《Before the Clock Struck Twelve》


 The Maid Who Was Always There

    The grand halls of the duchy¡¯s manor echoed with the soft steps of servants and the distant hum of courtly affairs, but all Caesar, the young Duke of Alderson, not yet even reaching 30 years of age, could hear was the silence of his thoughts. He carries himself with an effortless grace that hints at both his noble blood and the responsibility he has inherited. His blonde hair, bright and golden like the rays of the sun that when it catches the light as he moves, creates a halo-like effect that seems to emphasize his noble stature.


    Lord Caesar¡¯s face is handsome in a way that¡¯s almost disarming. His features are sharp, yet not overly harsh¡ªhis strong jawline and high cheekbones giving him a regal, noble look. His most striking feature, however, is his eyes¡ªvibrant azure blue, as clear and brilliant as the sky on a cloudless day. His eyes not only reveal his curiosity but also his promise as a leader, carrying a weight of future decisions and the legacy he will uphold.


    Yet right now, his eyes seemed to show coldness as he stood in the center of his lavish study, his fingers absently tracing the rim of a silver goblet that sat untouched before him. Outside, the wind swept over the sprawling grounds, carrying with it the scent of rain, but Caesar felt nothing but an unsettling stillness. His thoughts were restless, trapped in a singular place: the face of Marianne.


    Marianne. She had been a constant in his life ever since he could remember. Only a year younger than him, she had always been there, assigned to him as a maid when they were both just children. While children in other castles had their own playmates and tutors, Marianne was always the one who tended to him along with his nanny¡ª fixing his clothes, bringing him his meals, tidying up after his tantrums, and listening to him when he spoke of things no one else would understand. To the outside world, she was simply a servant, a maid with kind eyes and a gentle manner, but to Caesar, she had always been more.


    Their friendship, or whatever it had been, started before he could even comprehend the division between Duke and maid. It had been easy to see her as a companion when they were children, both in their own worlds, exploring the grounds of Alderson Castle together, sitting under the wide oak tree by the gardens, her laughter ringing out as he told her his half-formed stories and dreams of ruling. She never laughed at him, not once, and that was enough to make her different from everyone else.


    But as they grew older, things changed. The years marked the distance between them. Caesar had been taught, like any young noble, the difference between himself and those beneath him. Marianne¡¯s station was clear, and despite the fondness that had blossomed in him, he knew he was expected to keep his distance. She was a maid. His maid.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    But that had never stopped the way his heart twisted when he saw her smile. When she looked at him with her soft peridot-colored eyes, as if he were someone worth believing in. It had been the smallest moments that stuck with him¡ªthe way she would brush his hair aside when it fell in his eyes, the way her fingers would linger just a moment too long when they handed him a cup of water. There was something in the way she looked at him that stirred him, something that hinted at an understanding that went beyond what anyone else could offer him.


    But now, it was not the tenderness in her gaze he remembered, nor the laughter they had shared as children. It was the absence of it all. For months, Marianne had been gone, disappeared from his life without so much as a word. One day, she had simply stopped coming to his chambers. At first, he had assumed it was just another of those odd happenings that came and went in a grand household like theirs. But then the days turned to weeks, and the silence remained. He asked the servants, but no one had an answer. His father, the Duke before him, had merely dismissed his questions with an offhand remark, one that Caesar would never forget.


    "She¡¯s gone, Caesar. It¡¯s time you moved on."


    But Caesar could not move on. No, he was not like his father. The idea of losing Marianne felt like losing a part of himself, a piece of his childhood that he could not retrieve. He refused to believe she had just left him. She wouldn¡¯t have. Not without a reason. Something must have happened.


    That gnawing emptiness was what plagued him now. It wasn¡¯t just the loss of a maid, or even the loss of a childhood companion¡ªit was the realization that he had never truly known her, never truly understood why she had meant so much to him. Was it simply because she was always there, tending to his needs, filling the void of affection that no one else had given him? Or was it something deeper? A connection that he had never fully grasped, until it was too late?


    Caesar pushed himself away from the desk and strode toward the tall windows overlooking the courtyard. The moonlight bathed the sprawling garden in a pale, silver glow. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining what it would be like if she were still there, standing beside him as she once had. He could almost hear her voice, her soft laughter, the gentle rustle of her dress as she walked beside him.


    He opened his eyes again, but the reality of the empty courtyard before him brought him no comfort. Instead, it only deepened his longing.


    ¡°Where are you, Marianne?¡± he whispered into the quiet night. The question hung in the air, unanswered.


    And in that silence, something dark began to stir in Caesar¡¯s chest¡ªa growing desire to find her, to understand why her absence had left such a void in him. He could not, would not, let it be. He would find Marianne. He would seek her out, no matter where she had gone or why she had left.


    She had been more than a maid to him, more than a servant, more than a childhood companion. She had been his constant in a world of uncertainty.


    And Caesar could not bear the thought of losing her forever.

 Chapter 2: The Bonds of Childhood

    The air was thick with the scent of fresh spring blooms as the young Duke Caesar wandered the castle grounds, his small hands grasping the rough bark of the old oak tree. Marianne was beside him, as she had always been, their footsteps soft in the damp earth beneath them. He was only ten years old then, but the world already felt too large, the weight of his lineage pressing on his small shoulders. The heavy mantle of duty, expectations, and the looming shadow of his father¡¯s legacy were constant reminders of the future that awaited him.


    But in this moment, beneath the sprawling canopy of the oak tree, there were no duties, no titles. There was only Caesar and Marianne.


    ¡°Do you ever wonder what it would be like to run away?¡± Caesar asked, his eyes wide with youthful innocence. He had always wondered what life would be like beyond the high castle walls, where no one cared about his bloodline or his destiny.


    Marianne looked at him with a knowing smile, though her eyes were more cautious. ¡°Run away? What would we do out there, my lord? You can¡¯t escape who you are.¡±


    He frowned, clearly dissatisfied with her practicality. ¡°You always say that,¡± he muttered, kicking at a stone with his foot. ¡°But why does it always have to be about who we are? Why can¡¯t it be about what we want?¡±


    She chuckled softly, her voice melodic in the quiet of the gardens. ¡°Because, that¡¯s not how the world works. You¡¯ll see one day, young Duke. It¡¯s not all about what you want¡ªit¡¯s about what you have to do.¡±


    Her words, though gentle, always seemed to settle heavy on him. It was true¡ªshe had a way of being both wise and practical, a quality that always kept him grounded, even when his mind would wander into dreams of freedom. Marianne was just a year younger, but it felt as though she understood the world in ways he could never fully grasp. And yet, she never treated him like a child. She listened to him, really listened, in a way that no one else did.


    As they grew older, Caesar found that Marianne¡¯s presence in his life was more than just that of a servant. She was the one person he could trust, the one who would never look down on him for his youthful rebellion or the rare outbursts of frustration that occasionally broke through his usually composed demeanor.


    Their friendship had evolved over the years. The innocent games of childhood had given way to deeper conversations¡ªlong talks in the quiet of his own study room at night, where Marianne would sit on the other side of his chaise lounge, holding a book in her hands. Those nights were his refuge from the suffocating expectations of court, the days filled with tedious lessons and lessons on diplomacy. She would talk about simple things¡ªher life before becoming a maid, her dreams of seeing the world, her hopes for something beyond the confines of the Alderson castle.


    But it was in those tender moments that Caesar began to feel something shift inside him. Her proximity, her laughter, her gaze¡ªsometimes it felt like she was far more than just a companion. She was something essential. Something that made his heart beat faster whenever she was near.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    By the time they both reached their teenage years, it was impossible to deny that the dynamic between them had changed. Marianne, no longer the young girl who tended to his needs with a shy smile, was blossoming into a beautiful young woman. Her movements had become graceful, her hair long and dark, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. Her laughter, once light and playful, was now full of warmth, echoing through the halls of the castle, and her eyes¡ªthose unusual peridot-colored eyes¡ªheld a wisdom and knowing that only grew with age.


    It was during those years that Caesar began to notice the subtle shifts in his feelings. No longer was she simply the girl who brought him his meals or helped him with his studies. To him she was his equal, a person who saw him in ways that others did not. He could no longer simply push aside the feeling that had begun to grow in his chest¡ªa feeling that he would later understand to be something more than just childhood affection.


    One evening, as they sat on the balcony of his chambers, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of orange and purple, Caesar turned to her, his mind racing with emotions he couldn¡¯t quite put into words.


    ¡°Marianne,¡± he said softly, his voice low, ¡°Do you ever think about¡­ the future? About what we¡¯ll do when we¡¯re older?¡±


    Marianne, who had been gazing out over the grounds, didn¡¯t immediately respond. She looked at him, her expression thoughtful. ¡°I think about it,¡± she said finally, ¡°...but I don¡¯t know what it holds for me. You¡¯ll become Duke one day, my lord. Your future is already set.¡±


    His heart clenched at her words, though he didn¡¯t show it. ¡°But what about you? What will you do?¡±


    She turned away from him, her gaze distant. ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever needs to be done. I¡¯ll stay here, where I¡¯m needed.¡±


    Caesar felt an ache in his chest at her words. He didn¡¯t want her to stay as a maid, confined to the walls of Alderson Castle. He didn¡¯t want to imagine a life without her beside him, not just as someone who served him, but as someone who truly belonged at his side.


    ¡°You deserve more than this,¡± he said, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Marianne glanced at him, her eyes soft but filled with an unspoken sadness. ¡°My lord,¡± She softly laughed. ¡°I think you always forgot but I¡¯m just a maid. I don¡¯t deserve more.¡±


    The words stung him, more than he was willing to admit. He had known for a long time that there was a divide between them, but hearing her speak so plainly of it made it real. It was a truth that neither of them could ignore. She was bound by her station, and he¡ª he was destined to rule, to marry a noblewoman, to live a life that would never allow for the kind of closeness he desired.


    It was on that night, under the fading light of the sun, that Caesar realized something he hadn¡¯t been able to admit to himself before: he could no longer think of Marianne as just a maid. She had been more to him for years, and the ache in his chest told him that he wanted her beside him, not just as a childhood friend, but as something else entirely.


    But as they both drifted into the years of their teens, the invisible walls of their world seemed to grow higher. The expectations on him grew heavier, and Marianne¡¯s presence in his life¡ªonce a source of comfort¡ªbegan to feel like something forbidden.


    He tried to push the feelings away, to suppress the budding emotions that would not be allowed in the world they both occupied. But deep down, he knew the truth: he was beginning to feel something that shouldn''t even exist.