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Maria's POV
The air was filled with the scent of newly polished wood as I finished wiping the last table, my bruised fingers shivering from holding the cold wet cloth for hours. The sun was already starting to set, the golden rays shining through the large windows of Madam's estate, causing the marble floors to shine.
My legs ached from standing for hours, and my back complained each time I stood up straight, but the day's tasks were finally over.
I breathed out, pausing briefly to check out the room. Everything was shiny and clean, just how Madam preferred it. The shimmering crystal chandelier above sparkled, casting small rainbows onto the ceiling. Despite spending years in this place, the wealth around me seemed like it belonged to another realm, one I was permitted to only clean up but never genuinely felt part of.
Madam settled by the window in her chair, enjoying her afternoon tea with the same elegance she showed in all her gestures. Her silk robe, adorned with intricate floral designs, flowed around her like a regal mantle. She hadn't talked to me since lunchtime, completely engrossed in the novel she was reading.
I hesitated before stepping forward. "Madam," I said, keeping my voice low and respectful.
She didn't look up. "Yes, Maria?"
"I was hoping to ask if I could take tomorrow off." I joined my hands, my heart racing as I pushed the words out of my mouth. "My sister is getting married and I want to be there to help her and get ready for her big day."
At that, Madam finally lifted her gaze, dark eyes studying me with quiet scrutiny. She set her teacup down gently on its saucer, tapping a single manicured finger against the porcelain. The silence stretched between us, and I swallowed hard, trying not to fidget under her stare.
"Your sister," she mused, her voice cool but not unkind. "You never mentioned she was engaged."
"It happened quickly," I admitted. "They've been planning for months, but things have been...complicated."
Her lips pursed slightly, but she nodded. "I see." She looked out the window, where the sky had turned into hues of pink and orange. For a brief moment, I thought she would refuse.
Then, with a sigh, she said, "Alright then. You could have the day free, but I want you back by Sunday morning. I have an important brunch, and I'll need everything prepared."
Relief flooded my chest, so strong I almost staggered. "Thank you, Ma. I'll be back first thing."
She waved a dismissive hand. "Go, then. And enjoy the wedding."
I bowed my head, then turned and left quickly before she had a chance to change her mind.
I entered the front door of our cozy home; the aroma of roasted chicken and fresh bread filled my nose and surrounded me like a cherished hug. The home was hardly spacious enough for the three of us, but it had consistently been vibrant and filled with affection.
"Maria, you have arrived at last!" My father's voice resonated from the dining table, where he was bent over a pile of envelopes, writing intensely. His glasses with silver rims had slid down to the end of his nose, and his shirt was sprinkled with flour, probably from his effort to assist with baking the cake.
I placed my bag down and looked over his shoulder. "Dad, what are you up to?"
"Writing invitations, of course," he said proudly, lifting one up. "A wedding is a grand occasion, my dear. It should be treated as such."
I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. "Dad, the wedding is tomorrow."
"Exactly!" he declared. "Which is why these need to go out immediately!"
I laughed softly and planted a kiss on his cheek. "You're incredible."
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