I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 329: A Heavy Heart

The weight of the wet bedsheets always left Wina’s shoulders aching after a few hours of work, but today, she barely noticed the strain.

The courtyard behind the servant quarters was thick with the scent of damp wool and soap. Wina stood before the long lines, her hands moving almost on their own as she lifted a massive linen sheet and pinned it to the cord.

The snap of the fabric catching the breeze was a familiar, comforting sound. The breeze caught the sheet with a sharp snap, as predictable as the morning itself.

She reached for another pin when the hurried whispers of two older maids by the stone archway reached her ears. They were stacking empty wash tubs as they talked.

"So the rumors were true. They’re really coming!"

"For the peace treaty?" the second maid asked, her voice dropping into a bitter, hollow scoff. "What’s the use of a treaty now? After everything that’s already happened? After all the lives that were lost?"

"Well, at least there will be no more war," the first maid murmured softly, shaking her head. "That has to count for something, doesn’t it? My cousin died. Left behind his wife and three little ones with absolutely nothing. If this treaty keeps them from dragging more people into the army, I won’t complain."

"I’m not saying losing your cousin wasn’t painful," the other replied, her eyes drifting across the grass toward the lines. "But look at Wina’s father and brother."

Wina froze. Her fingers stayed locked tightly around the wooden pin in her palm, the rough wood biting into her raw skin. She snapped her head back toward them.

The two older maids caught her look and instantly went rigid. Realizing they had been overheard, they quickly gathered their tubs, avoiding her eyes entirely as they scurried away through the archway in a frantic, embarrassed hurry.

The courtyard fell quiet again, save for the snapping of the wet sheets, but the peace was entirely gone. Wina let her hands drop slowly to her sides, her chest tightening as the old, buried memories came rushing back like a sudden flood of cold water.

Her mother, a faint, distant memory of a soft voice and a cough that had taken her away when Wina was still a child too small to reach the wash tubs. After that, it had just been her, her father, and her older brother. They hadn’t had much, but they had a home. Then everything changed when the war with Solaric began. Her father had been called first. Her brother had volunteered a month later, promising he would bring their father back safely.

Neither of them ever returned. The official notice from the crown had been brief, a scrap of cheap parchment delivered by a tired messenger. With her family gone and the rent unpaid, Wina had been left with nothing but the clothes on her back, until an distant uncle managed to pull a few strings to get her accepted as a laundry maid inside the palace walls.

She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel when she first learned that Auzelian and Solaric were finally attempting to forge a peace treaty. Part of her knew she should be happy, happy that no other sister would have to wait by a window for a brother who was never coming home.

But underneath that logic, a deep, stubborn bitterness burned in her throat. A treaty meant shaking hands. It meant smiles, banquets, and clean slates. It meant the people who had ordered the marches would sit in warm rooms and drink fine wine, while her father and brother remained buried in unmarked dirt across the border.

Shaking her head to clear the fog, Wina gripped her empty basket tightly against her stomach. Her breath came in a short, ragged exhale as she turned away from the lines. She couldn’t stay out here anymore.

She walked toward the service entrance in a daze, her eyes fixed entirely on the floor beneath her as her mind spun through the past. She wasn’t looking. Lost in thought, she never noticed anyone approaching from the cross-corridor.

Thump

Wina collided directly into a solid frame. The impact sent her stumbling backward, her wicker basket slipping from her fingers and clattering loudly against the polished stone floor.

"Oh! I... I am so sorry! Please forgive me, I wasn’t looking where I was going!" Wina cried out instantly, her face burning with a sudden, intense panic as she dropped to her knees to scramble for her basket. In the palace, bumping into the wrong person could cost a maid her monthly wages, or worse.

"There is no need to panic. It was an accident," a voice responded.

The voice was gentle enough to ease some of the panic gripping her chest. Wina looked up from the floor, her breath catching in her throat.

Standing before her was Philia. Behind him waited Valen, his personal attendant, his presence alone enough to keep others at a distance.

Before Wina could even attempt to stand, Philia reached down. His fingers, entirely free of the rough calluses that marred her own hands, gently picked up the wicker basket from the floor. He held it out to her, offering a warm, pleasant smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Philia asked, his gaze searching her face with genuine concern. "You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?"

Wina quickly took the basket back, holding it like a shield against her chest as she scrambled to her feet. "I’m okay, My Lord. Truly. I am so sorry for my clumsiness."

"No harm was done, Wina," he murmured.

As she stood before him, all the talk in the servants’ quarters came rushing back. Everyone talked about Philia.

He was the Crown Prince’s fiancé. But unlike the rest of the high nobility, he was famous for his kindness. He was always patient with those around him, never raising his voice or scolding people over small things.

He was completely different from the Crown Prince’s former fiancé, that fierce, terrifying noble who now lived in the extreme North and used to make the younger staff tremble with a single glare.

Philia felt safe. He never made anyone feel small.

Philia tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes noting the faint trace of redness around her eyes and the tightness in her shoulders.

"You look rather pale," he noted softly. "The palace can be a very overwhelming place, especially today with all the preparations. If you are not feeling well, you must promise to take some rest. Or, if there is a specific problem weighing on your mind... you should never hesitate to ask for help."

Wina looked at his smooth, flawless face, his words washing over her like a gentle balm. Wina looked at him, his quiet reassurance slowly calming her racing thoughts. A man of his rank had no reason to spare her a second glance, yet here he was.

Wina offered Philia a small smile before lowering her head, her hands still wrapped around the basket.