Presently, a disguised Raphael was talking to one of the warriors stationed at the gate of the Demon Castle about his sister's employment. 

Amara who was masked as Raphael's mute sister was watching them converse. The reason they had opted for a mute disguise was Amara's accent. It would definitely give her away, Raphael had said. 

The warrior looked at her and recoiled. It was a subtle movement but it assisted her confidence. 

She knew she looked hideous. 

Raphael suggested that she make herself look unappealing. He told her that all the pretty maids were sure to serve the higher lords who were known for their careless attitude toward women. If she wanted to get to the Prince within a short period of time, she had to avoid all the unwanted attention. 

So Amara wove a disguise of a disfigured face. Her jaw was misaligned and her nose was crooked. She wanted to add a humpback too but Raphael shook his head telling her that it would be too much.

Together they named her disguise Noraelena. It was a peculiar name but according to Raphael, it was a very popular name in the Demon Kingdom. 

'You're lucky,' the warrior addressed her, 'Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't be allowed inside but ever since the explosion, we need all the hands we can get.'

Amara's head snapped so fast at the word 'explosion', that she almost spoke. 

'Explosion?' Raphael asked. 

The warrior shook his head, 'Tch, peasants! Such an uneducated bunch!' He then turned to Raphael, 'Haven't you heard? There was an explosion two days ago in the dining hall. We lost many good soldiers and servants.' 

She wanted to take off and look through every room in the castle to find her Damien but Raphael gripped her shoulder with his hand and continued the conversation, 'Oh, yes, yes, that explosion. I remember now,' he bobbed his head. 'I'm sure you'd need some extra hands. My sister is here to serve her country at the time of need,' He added dramatically. 

The warrior rolled his eyes and turned his back on them, 'Come along!' 

'Good luck, Noraelena.' Raphael hollered and swiftly turned his back as he pulled his cowl over his head and disappeared into the market crowd. 

'Some brother you've got,' the warrior spoke to Amara. 

She knew the reason why Raphael had hurried. He had to go check up on Felicia who was very cross. He feared that she would so something that would risk their identity.

Though it was highly unlikely, Amara knew that they had to be careful. 

Her heart raced as she followed the warrior through a tiny passageway. 

'You're going to meet the Head of Household, Mrs Lira. Just be nice and answer her questions to the point and-' He cut himself off, 'oh, you can't speak.' He spared her a glance and made a face at her. 'Just do whatever you do.'

The passageway opened into a large chamber that was bustling with energy. Laundry maids were running about, cleaning and dyeing everything, from bedsheets to curtains to clothes. 

The chamber was hot. 

No one paid them any attention as they were busy. Some of them ran into Amara and almost yelled at her but one look at her face and they were rendered speechless. 

They walked through another passageway which opened into a kitchen. 

If the laundry chamber was busy that the kitchen was busier.

The sound flames crackling, hushed whispers, boiling water and loud utensils were obscured by a strong feminine voice, 'This tart is tasteless! SOMEONE HERE IS ABOUT TO LOSE THEIR JOB!' It was followed by a loud crash which startled everyone. 

All the maids looked up to see who was at the receiving end of Mrs Lira's rage. 

'Mrs Lira!' The warrior called her. 

'WHAT!'

The woman was huge and terrifying. If she wanted to, she could swat the warrior with her hand. 

Her apron barely fit her anymore. She wore makeup but her sweat had smudged it. 

'This girl, her name is Noraelena, wants a job here-'

The bulky demon turned to look at Amara, 'What are your talents? Cooking, washing, scrubbing the floor?' Those red eyes bore into hers trying to intimidate her. Amara almost gave into it but she reminded herself of the task she had come to fulfil. 

She bobbed her head. 

From the corner of her eyes, she saw the warrior slip away. He was a smart guy. 

'What? Can't you speak?'

Amara shook her head. 

The answer had clearly taken the demon by surprise before her face contorted with irritation. 'FINE! FINE!' She rolled her eyes. 'You're lucky we need more hands around here.

'What did you say her name was again?' The woman turned to where the warrior was. When she did not find him there, she rolled her eyes, 'Whatever.' She turned to the maid who had made the tasteless tart, 'You!' 

Of course, the maid flinched at her harsh tone. 

'Take her to the fourth floor and make sure you teach her how clean! Hurry now!'

'Yes, madam!' The maid grabbed Amara's arm and dragged her out of the scorching hot kitchen. 

'My name is Emery. What's yours?' The maid asked once they reached the utility room. Brooms, mops and large buckets were neatly placed in one corner while the other had the dirty dishes piling up. Flies swarmed over the dirty stacks and the foul odour was unbearable.

Amara gestured that she could not speak before she pinched her nose and breathed through her mouth.

'That's terrible. Were you born like this?'

She nodded.

'Oh, that's sad. I can't imagine not being able to speak. Boy, how difficult life must be for you.' 

Emery seemed unfazed by the stench. She reached for a bucket before instructing Amara, 'Grab two mops and follow me.'

Amara complied. 

Carrying mops was a strange experience as she had never done so in her life. She held them up awkwardly as she followed the maid through many more passageways.

They went to the courtyard next where there was a well. She watched as the maid drew water from the well. She could hear the hooves of horses nearby often accompanied by the cracking of whips and the neighing of horses.

There must be stables nearby, she thought to herself.

With a mighty heave, Emery pulled the filled bucket from the well and lifted it with her small hands.

Amara followed her as they walked the narrow staircase which was specifically designed for servants.

When they reached their designated floor, Amara was appalled.

There was a big and jagged hole staring back at her. The walls had darkened because of the explosion. As they stood at the opening in the wall, she stared at the soot-covered remains of the chamber that had once been. She wondered what could have caused it.

'Come inside,' Emery touched her arm and led her inside. 

Amara swallowed. 

The air in the chamber seemed suffocating. She felt the need to flee the nauseating atmosphere. 

The magic in the air was familiar to her. Her eyes watered as she fought the urge to throw up. 

This magic, she thought, it is the same. 

She almost shed a tear when she realized that Damien had been there. 

'I know how you feel. It's terrible!' Emery said, sympathetically. 'The Queen was in here too. It was a miracle that she survived.' 

Amara combated the urge to inquire further. 

The gigantic hole opened into a darkened chamber. Many servants were kneeling down and scrubbing the floor with brushes in their hands. No matter how hard they scrubbed, some stains refused to disappear. 

When she walked past a maid, she saw a thick and dark stain of of blood staring back at her.

The ceiling had enormous cracks originating from the place where the chandalier had been. Cold and naked fear hit her as she looked around her when she realized how unstable it was. 

'What are y' two doin' with 'em mops!' One of the older maids screamed at them, 'They ain't goin' t' d' any goo'.' She gave them a crooked smile, revealing her decayed teeth. 

Emery was embarassed. She turned to Amara, 'Wait here, I'll go get some brushes.' She took off without any acknowledgement from the latter. 

'Wha' y' doin' there standin'?' 

Amara gestured that she could not speak. 

The old maid who Amara guessed was the supervising maid, huffed. 'That wench!' She cried before she gave her the croocked smile again, 'D' y' know wha' happened here?'

Excitement thrummed through Amara's veins. She shook her vigorously. 

'Ah! Y' poor thing. Lemme tell y'.'