32. Enough

Callista.

“See this corridor?” The maid who'd called me, Helen, points at an extremely muddy corridor, “This needs to be washed, like, ASAP. The Alpha King absolutely loathes uncleanliness.”

I look at the amount of dirt and gulp. “That’s…that is a lot of dirt,” I state the obvious, “This is the entrance, right?”

“Yeah, and we need to keep it clean, all the time. The newbie is usually in charge of this. So,” She thrusts at me a mob and a bucket, “Get on with it.”

So, the maids don’t really like me much. It might have to do with me being the stealer as well as a criminal now. They were all much older than me, in their twenties or thirties, and they were very, very cold. As soon as I was taken to the maid quarters and introduced to them, they’d told me that I wasn’t to expect any special treatment from them and that they didn’t really want a stealer of all people with them, and that the only reason they were gonna tolerate my existence was because their Alpha King had commanded it.

Very