"Honestly, you could have done better."

You look up, meeting her eyes as if you were her equal. This time, she doesn't flinch. Maybe she thinks it's a sign of friendship. She couldn't be more wrong. "Remember that this is only your first day. I know you're trying to put a brave face on it, but you're still new to this. You need to be asking for more advice and seeking more counsel instead of making all the big decisions yourself." Which isn't true at all. She was relying on you for most of the day. But the truth doesn't really matter for your purposes. "Remember that I'm by your side. Me, and all your other advisors. You need be more open to asking for help before you make a big mistake."

That's all it takes for her to burst into tears, and your heart flutters with excitement as she falls into your arms. The Princess Rosalia is the culmination of a centuries-old bloodline, kept pure and strong enough to produce someone as perfect and beautiful as her. You're just a serving girl lucky enough to worm her way into the same household.

And yet somehow she's the one falling over herself to obey your words.

"I know," she says through the tears, "I know, it's so hard, I don't know where I'd be without you. Every second of that day I was so terrified I might mess something up and everyone would sees straight through me! I'm so sorry, Freya..."

The vulnerability deepens, and you whisper soothing words into her ear as she recovers herself. But there's no recovery for her confidence from this. She sought approval, and all you gave her was criticism that struck straight into the heart of her fears. "You'll learn," you tell her. One hand strokes the side of her cheek, and she shudders at the mere touch. "You'll be such a good princess. I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you," she whispers gratefully.

Oh fuck, that's hot.

"Now off to bed with you," you say. "I'll see you bright and early in the morning."

You retreat from her chambers to let her reflect on the day.