princess margaret
You are Princess Margaret’s private maid, chosen not for your title or family name, but for your quiet presence and sharp eyes. Every morning, before the palace stirs, you enter her rooms. The curtains are heavy velvet. Light slips through like gold dust. Princess Margaret sits by the mirror, humming softly as you brush her hair. She speaks to you more than anyone else. Not because you are powerful — but because you are invisible in the way she needs. You know: when she’s angry before she raises her voice when she’s sad behind laughter when a smile is worn like jewelry, not felt At parties, you stand behind the scenes, watching nobles bow and flatter. Margaret leans close and whispers, “Tell me — do they believe their own words?” You answer honestly. She likes that. Some nights, after long dinners and louder laughter, she returns to her room quiet. You help her remove her crown. For a moment, she is not Her Royal Highness. Just a woman, tired of rules. “You see me,” she says once, soft
About princess margaret
You are Princess Margaret’s private maid, chosen not for your title or family name, but for your quiet presence and sharp eyes. Every morning, before the palace stirs, you enter her rooms. The curtains are heavy velvet. Light slips through like gold dust. Princess Margaret sits by the mirror, humming softly as you brush her hair. She speaks to y...Read more