She Worked As A Palace Maid To Raise Her Younger Sisters… Then They Pretended They Never Knew Her!

Chapter 5

A few mornings later, while polishing silver trays in the servants’ kitchen, two palace maids entered the room, chatting excitedly.

“Have you heard? The entire capital is preparing for Lady Victoria Ashford’s engagement celebration next week.”

Another maid laughed. “They say every important noble family has received an invitation.”

Clara stopped polishing. Her smile slowly disappeared. She had heard nothing about any celebration. No invitation had ever arrived.

Surely, there had been some mistake. Perhaps the invitation had been delayed. Perhaps Victoria had planned to surprise her. She quickly wiped her hands on her faded servant’s apron and hurried toward the head housekeeper. “Please, may I leave early today?” she asked politely.

The older woman noticed the anxiety in Clara’s eyes. “You’ve never asked before.”

“My sister — she’s celebrating her engagement today.”

The head housekeeper smiled kindly. “Go. You’ve earned it.”

Clara thanked her repeatedly before rushing to her tiny room. She opened the old wooden chest where Victoria’s beautiful silk gown rested neatly folded. Every pearl had been sewn on by hand. Every stitch had been placed with love after long nights spent working by candlelight. She carefully wrapped the gown inside white linen and carried it against her chest.

There wasn’t enough time to change clothes. Her servant’s dress was clean but worn from years of use. The cuffs had been patched several times. The hem showed signs of countless repairs. Clara glanced at herself in the cracked mirror. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “I’m her sister.” Then she ran.

She hurried through crowded market streets, crossed bridges, climbed stone stairways, and passed elegant homes decorated with colorful banners. By the time she reached Blackwood Manor, her breathing had become uneven. The estate looked magnificent. Fresh roses decorated the entrance. Crystal lanterns hung from ancient oak trees. Long tables overflowed with roasted pheasant, glazed ham, fresh bread, delicate pastries, and sparkling crystal goblets filled with expensive wine.

Clara smiled. She had never seen Victoria’s dreams come so beautifully to life.

Holding the wrapped gown carefully, she stepped through the entrance. A few guests glanced curiously at the palace servant walking among them. But before anyone could stop her, Clara spotted Victoria standing beside Lord Alexander Blackwood under a floral arch. She looked radiant. Clara’s eyes filled with tears of happiness.

“Victoria,” she called gently.

The music continued playing. Several nearby guests turned toward the unfamiliar voice. Victoria slowly looked around. The moment her eyes met Clara’s, the smile disappeared from her face. Her entire body stiffened. For several long seconds, neither sister moved.

Clara approached with hopeful eyes. “I only found out today. I came as quickly as I could. I made something for you.” She lifted the carefully wrapped package.

Before Clara could say another word, one of the noble women standing beside Victoria frowned. “Lady Victoria, who is this woman?”

The question echoed through the suddenly quiet gathering. Every conversation stopped. Dozens of curious faces turned toward Victoria. Clara waited patiently. She expected to hear the words she had imagined for years. My sister.

Instead, Victoria looked directly into Clara’s eyes and calmly answered, “I don’t know her.”

The words seemed to steal every sound from the garden. Clara blinked slowly. Surely she had misunderstood. “Victoria, it’s me.”

Another guest looked confused. “If she is not known to you, how did she enter the celebration?” Someone else whispered, “She appears to be one of the palace servants.”

Clara looked desperately toward Grace. The youngest sister stood only a few steps away. Their eyes met. For a brief moment, Clara hoped Grace would laugh, explain everything, and embrace her. Instead, Grace lowered her head. She remained completely silent. That silence hurt even more than Victoria’s words.

Clara’s fingers slowly loosened around the carefully wrapped package she had spent months sewing. The package slipped slightly against her arm. “I only wanted to congratulate you,” she whispered. No one answered. Victoria’s expression remained cold.

Two household guards quietly approached. One bowed respectfully. “My lady, would you like us to escort this woman outside?”

Without taking her eyes off Clara, Victoria gave a small nod. “Please do.”

The guards gently took Clara by the arms. She offered no resistance. Her feet barely seemed to carry her as they slowly guided her through rows of silent guests. Whispers followed behind her. Some pitied her. Others simply watched. None of them knew who she truly was.

As Clara reached the entrance gates, she stopped for one final moment. She turned toward the celebration. Victoria stood smiling politely beside Lord Alexander once more, speaking with guests as though nothing unusual had happened. Clara swallowed the lump in her throat. Then, so quietly that only one person nearby heard her, she whispered:

“Congratulations, little sisters.”

She lowered her head and walked away without looking back.

Standing only a short distance away, Lord Alexander Blackwood remained frozen. His eyes followed Clara until she disappeared beyond the gates. One sentence continued echoing inside his mind. Little sisters. He glanced toward Victoria, then toward the palace maid walking away with quiet dignity despite the tears running down her face. Nothing about the scene made sense. A servant had addressed Lady Victoria with the affection only family could share. Yet Lady Victoria had claimed never to have seen her before.

Why would a palace maid call Lady Victoria little sister?