Clariza was jolted awake by the familiar sounds of her father and brother bustling about in the kitchen. The scent of freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the sound of flour being sifted and dough being kneaded.

She stretched, blinking sleepily at the early morning light that filtered through the small window of her room.Curious about the unusual commotion, she stepped out of bed and made her way to the kitchen.

"Why does it feel like everyone is so busy today?" she asked, rubbing her eyes as she approached her elder brother.

He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, pausing for a moment from his task. "Don't you know? Today’s the day when the king will choose which of his two sons will inherit the throne. There’s going to be a grand feast at the palace tonight."

Their father, kneading a mound of dough with practiced hands, chimed in, "Exactly. So, get dressed and help us, Clariza. We’ve got a lot of bread to deliver to the palace later."

Clariza nodded quickly. She was a kind and dutiful daughter, always ready to lend a hand when needed. Without further delay, she hurried to get ready, eager to help her family and curious about the events that would unfold later that day.

Clariza’s life had not been without hardship. Her mother had passed away when she was young, taken by a severe heart illness. Yet, even in her absence, Clariza had never lacked love or care. Her father, Artimeo, and her older brother, Rio, had dedicated themselves to ensuring that she grew up surrounded by affection and warmth.

Artimeo worked tirelessly in their small bakery .Despite the challenges they faced, Clariza had grown into a beautiful and intelligent young woman, known throughout their village for her kindness and gentle spirit.

Many suitors had tried to win her heart, captivated by her grace and charm. But Clariza had turned them all away, not because she was uninterested in love, but because she felt a deep sense of duty to her family. At twenty-five, she remained single, focused on helping her father and brother, and determined to see them through their struggles before even considering marriage.

To her, family came first, and she found fulfillment in their happiness and well-being. The idea of a husband or children of her own had always been something she placed on the back burner, knowing that there would be time for that later—once their lives were more stable.

The soft chime of the bell above the bakery's front door caught their attention. Clariza and Rio exchanged a quick glance, knowing who it was before she even called out. "Good morning! Rio, where are you?" came Hellen's familiar voice, warm and cheerful as always.

Hellen, Rio's wife of three years, entered the kitchen with a basket in hand, her smile lighting up the room. Despite their hopes, the couple had yet to be blessed with children, but their bond was strong, and they supported each other through every trial.She placed the basket on the counter, revealing it to be full of fresh berries, ready to be used in the bakery’s popular berry muffins. Walking over to Rio, she gently wiped the sweat from his brow, her touch tender and loving."Is the first batch of choco cookies ready?" Hellen asked, glancing around at the trays of baked goods.

"They need to be delivered to the palace soon."Artimeo pointed to a stack of five sealed boxes neatly arranged on the side.

"All packed and ready to go," he said with a nod of satisfaction.

Hellen turned to Clariza with a thoughtful expression. "Clariza, would you like to help with the delivery to the palace? I just remembered I need to pick up more berries from Sir Pedro’s orchard."

Clariza smiled and nodded. "Sure, I can take care of the delivery. Don’t worry about it," she replied, happy to lend a hand.

With that, the plan was set. Clariza quickly prepared herself for the trip, the thought of visiting the palace sparking a flicker of excitement within her. She had always been curious about the grand celebrations that took place within those towering walls, and though she was only delivering cookies, the chance to glimpse the grandeur up close was something she looked forward to.

Carefully, Rio helped load the sealed boxes onto their small wagon, which was hitched to a sturdy horse. Clariza climbed into the driver's seat, taking hold of the reins.

Before she could leave, Hellen walked over, giving her some last-minute instructions."Don't go through the front entrance," Hellen advised, her tone serious. "Head to the back of the palace instead. There are too many people at the front today, and the palace staff will be busy. If you're unsure where to go, I'm sure there will be plenty of people you can ask. Look for the door that leads into the kitchen. Once you're there, just tell them the cookies are from Artimeo’s Bakery. They’ll know what to do. And don’t forget to collect their payment!" she added with a light laugh, her eyes twinkling.

Clariza nodded, absorbing every word. With a final wave to her family, she gently urged the horse forward, starting her journey to the palace.As she made her way through the bustling town, she was greeted by familiar faces. Some waved, others called out cheerful greetings, and Clariza responded with polite smiles and nods. The people of the town knew her well, not only because of the delicious bread her family produced but also because of her striking beauty.

Unbeknownst to Clariza, her beauty was admired by many. She had inherited her mother’s large, expressive eyes, a delicate nose, and smooth, flawless skin. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down past her shoulders, and her figure was slender yet shapely, perfectly complementing her modest height. Though she was humble and unassuming, her presence never went unnoticed.

As Clariza neared the palace, she noticed the increasing number of people converging toward the grand gates. Merchants, businessmen, and all sorts of individuals were making their way to the palace. Some were commoners like herself, while others rode in ornate carriages, likely wealthy individuals or royals from distant lands. The sight of these elegant carriages, adorned with intricate designs and drawn by majestic horses, made Clariza pause for a moment in admiration.

“Those must be important people,” she thought to herself, her eyes following the grand procession.

Keeping to the side of the road, Clariza guided her wagon steadily, careful not to disturb the flow of traffic. However, her peaceful journey was abruptly interrupted when a carriage, speeding recklessly down the road, nearly ran her over. The sudden rush of the carriage sent her wagon swerving dangerously to the side, causing the boxes of cookies to teeter on the edge of falling into the grass.

Clariza struggled to maintain control, her heart pounding in her chest. She managed to steady the horse and keep the wagon from tipping over, but in the process, she lost her balance and fell to the ground with a thud. The impact left her momentarily stunned, but it quickly gave way to a surge of frustration.

How could someone be so careless? Gritting her teeth, she sprang to her feet, determined not to let the incident slide. She quickly untied the horse from the wagon, mounted it with practiced ease, and took off after the carriage. Clariza had been skilled at riding since she was a child, taught by her father to handle horses with confidence and grace.

“No one should be able to get away with such recklessness,” she thought fiercely, her determination only growing as she closed the gap between them. Whoever had nearly caused her to lose the precious cargo—and possibly even her life—needed to be held accountable.

As she drew closer, Clariza prepared herself for a confrontation, her resolve unshaken. She might be just a baker's daughter, but she knew right from wrong, and this was something she couldn’t let slide.

“Stop the carriage!” Clara shouted, her voice cutting through the noise of the busy street as she urged her horse to go faster. She could see the carriage up ahead, still speeding away recklessly, oblivious to the chaos it had caused.

Clara’s heart pounded in her chest, her frustration growing with every passing second. She leaned forward, narrowing the gap between her and the carriage. She wasn’t going to let them get away with this. Not after nearly getting run over.

“Stop the carriage now!” she yelled again, this time with more force, hoping to catch the attention of the driver.

As she drew closer, she could finally see the figure at the front of the carriage. The driver, a man dressed in fine but slightly disheveled clothing, turned his head at the sound of her voice. His expression was not stern, as she might have expected, but rather guilty. It was clear that he knew he had done something wrong, and the realization seemed to weigh heavily on him.

The carriage came to a halt, and the driver quickly dismounted, hurrying over to Clara with an apologetic expression. “I’m so sorry, miss,” he said earnestly. “I was rushing because my employer insisted I drive faster, even though I warned her we might cause an accident.”

Before Clara could respond, a young woman, who appeared to be about her age, stepped out of the carriage. She had fair skin, brown hair, and wore an exquisite red dress that resembled something a princess might wear. Her beauty was undeniable, but her heavy makeup and the strong scent of perfume that hit Clara as soon as she approached were overwhelming.

“What’s the commotion? And why did you stop?” the young woman demanded, her voice dripping with irritation. She glanced at Clara, taking in her simple attire and the way she stood close to the driver. The look she gave Clara was one of condescension, as if she were evaluating a commoner beneath her.

“Who are you? And why are you interfering with our journey? Don’t you know who I am?” the woman continued, her tone boastful and dismissive.

Clara was about to speak up when the woman raised a hand, signaling that she didn’t want to hear from her. Turning back to the driver, she ordered, “Get moving now and don’t stop again. I don’t want any more delays.”

Clara stood there, stunned and disbelieving. The whole situation felt like a whirlwind, and she hadn’t even been given a chance to speak. As she watched the carriage disappear, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was how the wealthy and privileged truly behaved—disregarding others and treating them with such blatant disrespect.

Clara mounted her horse and made her way back to where she had left her wagon. She resumed her journey to the palace, still shaken by the earlier encounter. Despite her frustration, she decided it was best to let it go and focus on the task at hand.

Arriving at the back of the palace, she was immediately greeted by guards who checked the contents of the boxes. Once they confirmed that they were indeed just cookies, they allowed Clara inside.

Helen was right; the palace was bustling with activity. Clara muttered to herself, “Looks like the place is really busy today.” She glanced around, trying to figure out where to find the kitchen.

She attempted to ask a few of the busy servants for directions, but they seemed too preoccupied with their tasks to notice her. Clara sighed in frustration. “It seems I’ll have to navigate my way around here,” she said, taking hold of the boxes and carefully maneuvering through the crowded hallways.

The boxes were not very heavy, but they partially obstructed her view, making it difficult to see where she was going. She had to lean slightly to ensure she wasn’t bumping into anything or anyone as she walked.

Clara entered a door that seemed to lead further into the palace, but after walking through a maze of hallways and turning at various corners, she found herself thoroughly lost. The grandeur of the palace, with its endless doors and twisting passages, only added to her confusion. She felt overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place.

“Where on earth is the kitchen?” Clara wondered aloud, feeling a pang of anxiety. She stopped for a moment, trying to regain her bearings, but the more she explored, the more she realized she was completely disoriented.

Clara took a deep breath, preparing herself to navigate the maze of the palace once more. “I’m ready to get lost again,” she thought with a resigned chuckle. Just then, someone suddenly bumped into her from behind, shoving her forward.

The impact caused Clara to lose her balance, and she stumbled, dropping the boxes. She fell to the ground with a thud, scraping her arm as she tried to catch herself. The cookies, which had been opened by the guards earlier, scattered across the floor.

A heavy weight pressed against her back, and Clara winced in pain. “Ouch, you’re hurting me! Get up!” she snapped, her irritation and discomfort clear. The weight shifted, and a muscular man got off her, standing up but not extending a hand to help her.

Clara looked around at the mess of cookies now strewn across the floor. Her heart sank. It wasn’t just the pain from the fall that upset her but the thought that the cookies, painstakingly prepared by her father since early morning, were now ruined. The floor was dirty, and she knew they were no longer fit to be served.

Feeling a wave of sadness, Clara couldn’t hold back her tears. “These cookies were meant for the palace feast,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “We worked so hard on them, and now...”

Her spirit as bruised as her body. She could only imagine how disappointed her father and brother would be. With a deep sigh, she began to gather the cookies, her hands trembling as she tried to salvage what she could from the mess.

The man who had bumped into her seemed oblivious to her distress. He looked down at the spilled cookies with a mix of indifference and slight annoyance.

The man’s voice was cold and dismissive as he addressed Clara. “This is your fault. You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t the place for servants.”

Clara, still seated on the floor and wincing from the pain in her back, legs, and arms, glared at him. His arrogance was palpable, and the lack of any trace of sympathy or remorse only fueled her frustration.

Clara struggled to her feet, her movements slow and pained. “Apologize!” she demanded, her voice strained but firm.

The man raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Apologize? For what?” he replied with a hint of amusement in his tone.

Despite his perfect features—handsome face, straight nose, and striking eyes—Clara could see that his good looks were overshadowed by his unpleasant demeanor. His beauty was matched only by his arrogance, making it clear that he was someone who used his charm to mask his lack of empathy.

“You’re the one who caused this mess, and you haven’t even offered to help,” Clara said, her voice shaking with a mix of pain and anger. “How can you act like this?”

The man stared at Clara for a few seconds before speaking, his voice dripping with authority. “If I were you, miss, I’d be careful about what you say. You might find your head separated from your body if you’re not careful.”

Clara was stunned by his words. Not only had he refused to apologize, but now he was threatening her. Her fists clenched in anger, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. With a determined effort, she bent down to pick up the cookies scattered across the floor.

As she picking the cookies, palace maids began to arrive, their presence adding to Clara’s growing frustration. Some of them stepped on the cookies, further mashing them into the dirt. Clara felt her spirits sink even lower. No one seemed willing to offer any help.

The maids, along with what appeared to be the head maid, gathered around the man, expressing their concern for him. “Your Highness, are you alright? Did you get hurt?” one of the maids asked, her tone filled with worry. The head maid, with a sharp gaze directed at Clara, added, “We were informed that this commoner was responsible for the incident.”

Clara’s eyes widened in disbelief as she processed the head maid’s words. “Your Highness?” she thought, realizing the man was of royal status. Her hand flew to her mouth in shock as she recalled her earlier confrontation with him. Despite her growing embarrassment, she couldn’t ignore the fact that the incident was still his fault.

The head maid continued, “Don’t worry, Your Highness. We’ll make sure this commoner is punished for her foolishness.”

Clara swallowed hard, her fear escalating. The prospect of punishment was terrifying.

“No need for that,” the man said coldly. “I’m not in the mood for punishment today. It’s an important day for me, and I can’t afford to let anyone ruin my mood.”

Before turning to leave, he glanced back at Clara and added, “Make sure to pay her for the damaged cookies. Compensate her even more than the original price. And Head Maid, ensure that no one else gets lost in this wing.” His authoritative tone left no room for disagreement, clearly directing his reprimand at Clara.

Clara watched, her heart heavy, as the man and his entourage departed. The head maid gave a curt nod, acknowledging the order, before turning her attention back to Clara with a look that combined disdain and resignation.

Just as the group was leaving, a familiar voice called out. Clara looked up in surprise to see the young woman who had been in the carriage that nearly ran her over earlier. The woman was now rushing after the man, calling his name.

Clara’s surprise grew as she saw the woman chasing after the man, but the man continued to walk, seemingly indifferent to her presence. The woman, looking flustered and out of breath, continued to try and catch up.

Watching the scene unfold, Clara couldn’t help but feel a sense of unfairness. It was clear that her day had turned from bad to worse, and the encounter with the royal had only made things more complicated.