It must have been hours since she started doing the dishes. There were a lot of dishes, admittedly, the higher ups held a banquet to celebrate…something, she wasn't even sure.

Being the one to volunteer to take care of the leftover plates and cutlery after night fell, Shian was now alone in the kitchen since quite some time. The big room was dark and fairly cold, the wind coming through the open windows sending shivers down her spine.
Empty countertops lined the walls, usually offering enough room for multiple servants to prepare and arrange food but of course they all went to bed hours ago.

There was a lone candle spending her light as she scrubbed plate after plate and dipped knife after knife in the increasingly dirty dishwater. The flame lit up only her immediate surroundings and her eyes had grown tired, so she had fallen into a state of apathy after the chatter of her colleagues had died down around her.

After so many hours of monotone working, Shian found herself quite surprised when she reached besides her to grab the next cup to be dunked in water, only to feel the barren surface of the countertop. Her fingers rubbed against the wood, feeling the little indents countless knifes had left in it over time.
Awakening from her drowsy state she looked around, only to find each piece of dishware clean and dripping wet in the rack where she had put them so the water could drip off. The drops had formed a little puddle under the rack which Shian hastily dabbed away with a towel, which she then positioned under the wet dishes.
Welled wood was nothing unusual in the kitchen but there was really no reason to accelerate the process. It all would dry over night to be put away in the morning, so at least that was something she didn't have to worry about as well.

Shian yawned and stretched her sore back to loosen her stiff muscles. It really had been a long day and she felt the fatigue in every bone in her body.
Brushing her black bangs behind her ear to see better, she took the little candle from the countertop. It had burned down quite a bit over time and the wax had formed a big clump right over the handle, now resembling something that looked like a solid white cloud. It reminded Shian of the ones you could see in the sky over Kou on the rare occasions the country wasn't coated with heavy grey rainclouds.

Holding the candle in front of her to illuminate her way, she left the kitchen behind and stepped out into the empty hallway. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet, making her shudder because of the eerie sound. She hurried down the corridor, the rough floor soon changing to smooth carpet as she exited the kitchen area and entered the wing where the royals had their chambers.

Working in the palace sure has its perks, she thought to herself as she felt the soft fibres giving in beneath her feet. Sure, she had to walk through what felt like half the palace to get to the servants rooms, but she could name a small chamber her own. It had a rather comfy bed, a little drawer to store the few things she possessed and even a small window looking out to a speck of nature.
That window was something like a curse in disguise. How often had Shian sat by the windowsill and looked up at the night sky, losing herself in the vast wonders of space, only to be exhausted the next morning because she stayed up too late? She just forgot the time when trying to find constellations or admiring the Mare Tranquillitatis that was visible on the moon with the naked eye. Not tonight though, Shian had a feeling that she would fall asleep the second her head touched the pillow.

A loud voice ripped her out of her thoughts, startling her to the point of nearly dropping the candle. Someone was clearly upset, and her eyes darted around to find the source of the man swearing rather intently.
Her eyes locked with the door on her left as she recognized it as the office door of the second prince of the Kou Empire. The purple ornaments snaking themselves over the dark wood seemed to come to life under her tired stare, making Shian hesitate. The thought of her nice comfy bed lingered compellingly a few seconds longer before she blew out the candle and set it down on a nearby drawer. Then she knocked quietly on the door.

"Yes!?"
The answer sounded quite harsh coming from the usually calm prince but given what she had heard mere seconds ago, she really couldn't blame him. Shian opened the door a bit, scurrying in.
Almost immediately she bowed in a polite greeting but the picture that presented itself to her was already ingrained in her memory.

Koumei's desk was overflowing with scrolls and documents, each one being filled to the brim with letters and numbers, in the prince's small but neat handwriting. The heaps of paper were seasoned with brushes and pens, strewn about and forgotten.
That was just the usual amount of chaos you would always find at Koumei's workplace - what wasn't usual though was the fact that desk and prince were drenched in black ink. The area directly in front of him drowned in the dark substance and even his face didn't have been spared, his skin looking even paler than usual in comparison.

Koumei sighed and wiped some of the stains off his face, blinking a few times so the liquid wouldn't drip in his eyes. He let his gaze wander over the small figure in front of him. He couldn't see a lot of her except her long black braid given that she still bowed before him. He might have seen her darting around the palace once or twice but it was hard to tell – the palace had just too many servants.
"What do you want?"

Shian rose again, her gaze on the desk partially out of respect and partially because the sight was just so sad and funny at the same time. When she answered her voice was quiet, almost as if she expected to be scolded.
"I was on the way to the servant quarters when I heard you curse. I figured something was wrong and wanted to know if I could help."

Surprise showed itself on Koumei's face for a split second, that late at night the palace was usually sleeping. Well, except the guards of course and the ever working prince.

"If you were to clean up a bit, that would be appreciated", he said before standing up and hurrying to the adjacent bathroom to rid himself of the ink. The door closed with a silent "thud", leaving behind the maid.

Shian lifted her head, standing there for a second a bit dumbfounded. She was used to being ordered around, being a maid and all, and she was used to being ordered around rudely. But his words sounded more like a polite request and so she hurried over to the desk. Close up the mess seemed even worse.
The papers had already soaked up a lot of the spilled ink, rendering them seemingly useless and the ink had already begun to drip down the sides of the desk.
It is quite a shame, Shian thought. Having seen the desk quite a few times while cleaning during the absence of the prince she came to like that particular piece of furniture. Its dark wood and golden inlays always gave it an aura of old dignity. Said dignity was a little bit tarnished by the unsightly spot in its middle though.

Shian didn't have any towels with her so she untied the white apron around her waist, using it to dab the pools of ink from the wood and the contents of the table. Having already seeped into it, it was quite difficult to remove the ink, but she did her best to clean away at least the most obvious stains, before spreading out the wet paper so it would dry more quickly.
She scurried around the table, trying to get the stains out of the sides when she heard a harsh scrunching sound under her feet, like teeth gnashing against each other.

The realization of what had happened settled in immediately. The pain set in a split second after, causing her to let out a small whimper as a sharp sting raced up her leg.
Shian leaned against the table, taking a deep breath to calm her down. Her left hand curled around the edge of the desktop to support herself and she lifted her foot to inspect the damage.
A curved shard of glass was wedged in the underside of her shoe, having penetrated right through the leather sole. A wave of nausea hit Shian, causing her to waver a bit before she found her balance again. The pain was tolerable but the mere sight of the foreign object really wasn't pleasant.

She reached out carefully, gripping the shard and pulling it out in a swift motion. Flinching from the sensation she let the piece fall to the ground, next to all the other scattered shards that adorned the carpet. She crouched down next to the remains of the inkbottle and started to pick them up, cautiously placing each part on her apron before gathering the edges and tying them together, forming an ink-stained bindle.
The carpet seemed empty now except for the occasional ink stain but she run her hand lightly through it again anyway, just to check if she had overlooked any stray particles.

Shian stood up again, focusing her weight on her right food as to not strain the wound and let her gaze wander through the room. It was surprisingly tidy given the mess on the desk, but Shian knew better – it was her doing that the room looked like that. Hers and that of the other maids responsible that is.
They would put back the books Koumei left all over the place when he wasn't able to find that one fact again and air out the room. Shian had begun to like the daily ritual of tidying up the books just to find them everywhere the next day again – mainly because that meant she could stick her nose in them for a few seconds while she was alone.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she caught a figure in the corner of her eye. Koumei had returned and was standing in the doorway, his face clean but his hands still stained, observing her.
Flinching a bit in surprise she turned towards him. She didn't know if he had seen her mishap with the broken glass, so she just acted as if nothing happened and took a step away from the desk, allowing him to return.
He sat down and took a look at the documents she had spread out on the table top, looking at each one carefully before putting them in two separate stacks.
Shian assumed it was which papers he could salvage and which were totally lost – the pile for the latter being depressingly bigger than the other one. It must have been a lot of work that just went down the drain.

Koumei sighed deeply and the sight of him sitting there like a drowned rat tugged at Shian's heartstrings.
"Is there something else I could do, Sir?"

She had asked without even thinking about it. Koumei looked up at her, visibly hesitating before giving her a short nod.
"Some tea would be nice", he said, sounding a bit defeated. Shian allowed herself a small smile.
"Of course, Sir. Camomile?" She figured he could use something to soothe his nerves a bit. He nodded again and so Shian grabbed her apron bindle, securing the strings around her wrist so she wouldn't accidently drop it. Then she bowed once more and left the room.

The door clicked faintly behind her, leaving her in the dim light of the night. She let out a short sigh. It was so late and she was so tired. What added to her conundrum was the fact that her foot hurt from pretending to walk normally and now she could feel her blood throbbing in her veins. What had to be done had to be done though, so she produced her matches out of her pocket and relit the candle. The flame illuminated the corridor once more, the shadows dancing on the pale red walls as she started to make her way back to the kitchen, candlestick in one hand, apron in the other.

Somehow, she felt sorry for the prince. Of course everybody in the palace knew that he always stayed up late, working himself to the bone doing paperwork, but actually seeing him like that was a different thing. He had reminded her of her mother, who always worked so hard despite having a poor physique. Before she could dwell on the thought too long though, Shian hastily pushed it aside.
Comparing a potential heir to the throne of the Kou Empire to her deceased mother seemed quite disrespectful.

As she entered the kitchen again she focused her mind on the task at hand. She put down the candle on the countertop next to the backdoor and pushed it open with her now empty hand. The door swung open with a creaking sound, opening the view to the backyard. It was a little cobbled square with weeds growing through the cracks. At the other end of it, backed against a wall, was the dumpster and over Shian's head swayed the clotheslines softly in the wind. Usually the place was obstructed with freshly washed sheets and Shian couldn't help but smile as she remembered the many times she got caught in them trying to reach the other end. Now the lines were of course empty and so the wind could blow freely around her, causing a few strands of hair to escape her braid.

She made her way through the small yard and emptied the contents of her apron into the trash. The wind freshened causing her to shudder and so Shian turned around and entered the kitchen again, pulling the door closed behind her.
She shook out her apron, looking critically at the ink stains. She did have the means to at least brighten them but getting the fabric totally clean again would be a task in and of itself. However right now she couldn't do a whole lot about the spots so she shrugged and tied the apron back around her waist, neatly covering the string with the red ribbon that was wrapped around her body.

Shoving the candle a bit closer to the cupboard she reached up and retrieved the copper kettle, the metal cold against her skin. She dunked the kettle in the fresh water barrel and finally set it down on the stove.
Lighting it was always a hassle, especially in the dim candle light, but after struggling with the matches for a bit the coal had begun to glow.

She sighed contently as the heat flowed through her body and she stayed for a bit before she closed the oven door and got up again. The cupboard was still open and she went over to it, grabbing a teapot and cup. Shian loved the teacups, they all had been painted skilfully with little cherry blossoms or tiny birds. Automatically she had picked a cup with birds on it, figuring that the prince would like the design.

Putting down cup and pot next to the stove she reached for a tray and finally went to the pantry to look for the tea leaves. There was a whole shelf filled with crystalline jars full of dried herbs and flowers – whatever the royals of the palace might desire.
Though they were all closed the unobtrusive smell off all the plants lingered in the room, causing Shian to take a deep breath before grabbing a jar near the bottom. With her loot she returned to the kitchen, filling the contents into a tea strainer and putting it down next to the tea set.

With a canvassing look to the kettle she confirmed that there was still some time left, so she dropped down next to the stove and took off her shoe to inspect the wound. It really wasn't that bad and it had already stopped bleeding but given that she would have to walk around on it the whole time, it promised to be a rather painful experience.
Her shoe was another dilemma, until she would be able to go to the market to get them professionally fixed it would take some time. On the other hand, she thought, it is a small hole. Maybe I can fix it by myself.

The shrill whistle of the kettle made Shian put her shoe back on and get up. She turned down the air supply of the stove to extinguish the flames and carefully poured the steaming water over the tea strainer and into the pot. The smell of the camomile leaves grew stronger and a wave of nostalgia washed over Shian, the scent bringing back a lot of memories. Camomile tea had been the go-to remedy in her family ever since she could remember.
Tears dared to well up in her eyes but she shook her head vigorously in an attempt to keep out the negative thoughts. Putting on a determined façade she arranged the pot and the cup on the tray and added the candle so she didn't have to carry it separately.
The tray in her hands, she made her way back to the office, her walk a combination of carefully swaying to avoid anything spilling and hurrying so the tea wouldn't get cold.

She pushed the door open with her shoulder and entered the room. Koumei sat at the desk how she left him, apparently copying what could be saved from the ink stained papers. He was scribbling swiftly, filling document after document anew, obviously aiming to make up for his lost work.
He didn't look up but acknowledged her presence with a short nod. Shian set down the tray on a corner of the table and poured some of the steaming liquid into the cup. The steam curled up and mixed with the thin line of smoke coming from the candle, forming swirls over Koumei's head.

"You may go now".
His voice sounded like he was far away, back in his own world made of paper and ink. Shian made a little curtsy before grabbing the candle and leaving the room for good this time. She stumbled back to the servants' rooms and practically crashed onto her bed after stripping out of her clothes and donning her night gown.
The bedding was rough and a bit on the thin side but given how tired Shian was, it felt like laying on a cloud.
Within seconds she fell asleep, drifting off into a deep, dreamless slumber.