"Princess… please let me clean you," the one maid about to clean her pleaded softly, gently dipping the cloth into warm water with trembling hands.
Dila blinked slowly, then said it flatly without emotion:
"No."
The maid froze mid-motion, hand hovering in the air.
Another heartbeat passed.
Suddenly, her eyes widened with fear, and she dropped to her knees, panicking.
"I—I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Your Highness! Please forgive me—I didn't mean to offend—!"
She kept bowing rapidly, her forehead nearly smacking the polished floor with each motion, her voice trembling in anxiety.
Dila sat up awkwardly, tugging the blanket to her chest. Her eyes darted around the room in disbelief.
"Wait, no—! Stop that," she said, voice stiff and unsure. She reached out a hand, a little too late, flinching from how uncomfortable the situation felt.
"That's enough bowing. I said that's enough...!"
The maid stopped mid-bow, frozen like a statue, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
