“So, that’s how I came to be not nearly as poor as my birth would typically allow me.” I say cheerfully. It was a nasty habit of mine to use gallows humor. “I was hoodwinked out of my parents hand and thrusted into the baron’s palms. I know, I know—they were truly generous people.”

  Ana had a remarkably concerned look on her face, her pretty features scrunched slightly. She shook her head and sighed. “How…kind of them. You have never told me of this Mister Anders before, Otto; who is he, exactly?”

  “Mh. Well, he was Lord Gregorious’s steward, a petty noble.” I tapped my chin in thought. “I made him out to be pretty horrible before, didn’t I? He was actually fairly nice to me after a while.”

  Ana gaped, eyes wide as saucers. “But he was horrible to you! How could he just—just look down on you like that?” She clicked her tongue and tisked, shaking her head in frustration. “It was completely abhorrent behavior, fully unfitting of a noble.”

  “Pot, kettle, my dear Ana?” I playfully chime back, giving her a deadpan stare. The offended look on her face was amusing. “Must I remind you about how you treated me when we met? Perhaps I shall skip to that, then, because your memory seems to be—”

  “Hush!” Ana cut me off, face red as a tomato. Her cheeks were a cherry crimson, embarrassment playing across her features. “Just…just get back to the story, you big idiot.”

  “Aww, you’re beet red. What if I don’t want to, hm? Teasing you is much more enjoya—hey!” I lightly whacked away one of her painted nails, the offending finger going back to jab me again. “Don’t poke me with your claws!”

  A scandalized look filtered across the blonde’s face. She held up her well-maintained hands and mimed looking over them. “Claws!? These are not claws. My nails are perfectly manicured, thank you very much.” She gave a huff, but she couldn’t hide the tiny smirk on her face as she kept speaking. “And I’ll stop when you get back to the story.”

  “Fine, you mean woman. Now, where was I?” I hum, jogging my memory. “Right! I climbed into the carriage, arms held timidly at my side as my head was tucked low—wait, no, the ride wasn’t particularly important. I just sat there timidly and said nothing.”

  “Cut to after the ride, then.” Ana said in exasperation, rolling her eyes.

  “Good idea! Let us begin: I stepped out of the vehicle...”

  ***

  ...eyes wide open as I stared at the opulent building in front of me. There was a large, central courtyard surrounded by a long building on all sides but the front. The villa was made up of some sort of smooth, beige stone and had red terracotta roofs.

  I looked back towards Mister Anders, a hesitant look in my eyes. “Do I get to live here, Sir? Where will I be staying?”

  “You will be staying here, yes.” Mister Anders flatly said, already stolling ahead of me towards the start of the courtyard. “The lord has taken an interest in your development, boy. You will not be treated as the servant you are.”

  “Really?” My eyes managed to get even wider. “Why does Lord Gregorious want me to develop properly?”

  Mister Anders remained quiet, walking forward through the courtyard as I hurried to keep behind him. “What did I say about questions, Otto?”

  “...no more questions after leaving the carriage.”

  “Good, you remember.” Mister Anders gave a satisfied nod. Then, he stopped and scrunched his nose in disgust. “For now, we need to make you presentable for the lord. I doubt you have bathed in weeks.”

  “I bathed three days ago!” I protested with a scowl. “I did it in the Rubium!”

  The look of disgust only grew on Mister Anders’ face. “Do you know how filthy that river is, child? No? Well, the sewage from Paracon is dumped into it and flows down here. You are bathing in filth, Otto—no, you will be bathing.”

  Nausea came over me. The capital puts their waste into the Rubium? Blegh, I’d drunk from the river before! Gah, that’s so nasty… “Are you messing with me, Mister Anders? Surely—surely the Rubium isn’t ridden with filth!”

  “Do you really think I’d kid you, Otto?” Mister Anders asked, and I decided to not respond. Mister Anders was definitely not messing with me, and I felt horribly disgusted. I’d been bathing in—in filth my whole life!

  I morosely kept walking with Mister Anders to the front entrance of the villa. Once we had reached the door, Mister Anders stopped and looked down at me. “I will lead you to a maid and you will be cleaning yourself up for the lord. You better be on your best behavior, child.”

  “I will be.” I swore, bobbing my head. “And there are maids here?”

  “No questions, boy.” Mister Anders repeated, pushing open the door to the villa. The inside was warmly lit, but it was far less spacious than I’d expect. That didn't mean it was small. The hall we walked into was still far larger than my pare—my parent’s home…

  I wonder how they feel right now. Are they crying about me? I don’t want them to cry—Pa said to never cry, so I shouldn’t make them cry. I hope they can forget me, they’d be happier.

  “Walk down the hall to the right, Otto.” Mister Anders ordered, already moving past me into the building. “The maid’s quarters are at the end of the hallway. Jane will assist you from there.”

  Jane must be the maid. I nodded my head in assessment and turned towards my right, walking down the hall. It was a very pretty white hall lined with archways and mahogany windows. The natural lightning from the several windows gave the hall a very warm look.

  Trudging through the building with eyes full of wonder, I finally made it to the end of the hallway. There was a door made of mahogany exactly at the end, just as Mister Anders said. Maybe I should knock on the door?

  But…what if that’s considered rude? Mister Anders didn’t like me asking questions, so what if it is rude for me to knock on the door? It seems stupid, but it was stupid that Mister Anders wouldn’t let me ask questions, so this could be much the same.

  I steadied myself and raised my fist to knock on the door. I either may get scolded for knocking on the door or I will get scolded by Mister Anders for not bathing. I have better odds to just…knock on the door. So, I thumped my knuckles against the wood of the door.

  And waited…

  And waited…

  And waited some more…

  I don’t think she is in there—was Mister Anders lying to me? No, maybe he just didn’t know she was out. It isn’t like Mister Anders could track where the maid was at all times. Wait, or could he? I heard magic can do weird things.

  My thoughts were slammed out of my head as the door opened and smacked me in the temple, sending me tumbling backwards onto my butt.

  “Ouch!” I yelped, scrambling to stand up. A fairly plain woman grasped my hand and pulled me to my feet.

  “I’m so sorry!” The woman—probably Jane—said as her hand rushed to my forehead to gently touch at the tiny bruise forming. “Are you alright? I didn’t expect you to be standing right there, I feel horrible!”

  I winced slightly as her hand touched my head; there was no blood, luckily. “I’m okay, Miss…Jane, right?”

  “Mhm!” She nodded her head, still looking me over to make sure I wasn’t hurt. “And they didn’t say you’d be so adorable! Although you need to get all of that dirt off of you, when was the last time you bathed? You smell terrible.”

  “...I bathed a couple of days ago,” I said with a slight pout. I wasn’t dirty! It isn’t my fault I can’t bathe as often as rich people do.

  Miss Jane immediately started tugging me by the hand, leading me down the hall to somewhere else with gusto. “We can’t be having that. You will be given nice clothes, not these…rags. You’re too adorable to be in this condition.”

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  I gave her wide eyes as I was being yanked off towards the bathroom. She was far too much! “I’m not adorable!” I protested weakly, dazed by her exuberance. “I’m a big boy!”

  She just cooed even more, my pout deepening at the noise. She placed a hand on my head and ruffled my hair, making me scowl. Miss Jane cooed more. “You’re too cute~! Anyways, let’s get you off to the bath.”

  I gave her another weak glare. She acted like my ma. I didn’t like it very much, but I was too tired to try and argue with her. I huffed and followed her.

  ***

  “You aren’t going to say what happened after you kept walking to the bath?” Ana curiously asked as she sat across from me. The warmly-lit room reflected nicely off of her honey hair.

  “Nothing really important happened.” I shrug, not desiring to talk about the act of me bathing. “Anyways, I doubt you have any desire to hear about me taking a bath.”

  Ana flushed red. “I…will not be responding to that.”

  “Oh? And why not, hm? Did an image appear in your mind when I said that, hm?” I ribbed teasingly, leaning forward so that my face got remarkably closer to hers. “Perhaps you thought of me—”

  I got poked by one of her nails. “I hate you so much. You’re such a bully, Otto. “ Ana whined, moving to poke me again. I niftily dodged the sharp weapon, falling forward so that I smothered her on the couch across from me.

  “Yes, I am so dreadfully mean to you, Ana.” I said as I laid on top of her. I quickly rolled to the side and sat next to her. My head fell onto her shoulder. “Now, where was I?”

  “...I hate you.” She moped, leaning her head against my own.

  “Sure you do.” I nodded noncommittally. “And I believe that I was just going into the baron’s office. My palms were wet with sweat as I…”

  ***

  …stared at the door of the baron’s office. Mister Anders stood a foot or so behind me, waiting for me to open the door and go in. I felt strange being so clean. The clothes I wore were soft and smooth, something completely foreign to what I was used to.

  My sandy brown hair was much too silky and my skin was scrubbed until even the oils had gone away for a bit.

  “Are you going to open the door, Otto?” Mister Anders said, voice harsh and annoyed.

  I stared at the knob for a moment before reaching for it. “Sorry, Sir.” I mumble softly, turning the doorknob and pushing the door forward with a creaking noise.

  Soft yellow light filtered towards me as the door opened. The lord’s office was brightly lit by grand windows behind the man, sunlight passing by to illuminate the room. The office itself was made up of cozy walnut wood with shelves of large books lining the walls.

  The office was nice, and I would have found myself admiring it if it were not for the fear clutching at my stomach. I couldn’t focus on the fancy chandelier hanging on the roof or the ornately decorated carpet on the floor—worry held onto my mind too strongly for me to be able to think of much else.

  “Ah!” A man called out from behind a mahogany desk. He was older, likely the age my grandpa was when he passed. Wrinkles clung to his face from a good sixty or so years of age, his skin crunching as he stared down at something on the table before him. “Patch, you better win you damned horse! If you lose first place I swear to the spi—no! No no no! Hurry up, you bloody—”

  “Ehem.” Mister Anders cleared his throat from just behind me. I was simply staring at the lord in complete shock. Why was he yelling at a horse—a horse named Patch of all things—while looking down at…a flashing sheet of something?

  Lord Gregorious’s head snapped up, surprise flashing across his older face. His eyes locked onto me and he let out an embarrassed chuckle. “You’re the smart boy, right? Lovely, lovely! I had worried Andy would take days, but clearly that was no trouble, ha!”

  He was…very exuberant. Lord Gregorious’s pale blue eyes constantly flickered between whatever was on his desk and myself; finally, though, they settled on Mister Anders. “Andy!” He cheerfully said, smiling towards the tax collector. “I’m impressed you managed to convince his parents to let him live here so easily! My, I thought it would take weeks to wear them down—but I always know I can count on you!”

  That did not sound like what Mister Anders had told my parents…maybe Lord Gregorious is censoring himself? The aged lord doesn’t seem the type to do so, though.

  I am very confused.

  “Yee—ess…” Mister Anders slowly agreed, retreating backwards. “Well, milord, I will leave you and the boy—Otto—to speak.”

  “Yes, yes, you do that.” Lord Gregorious waved his hand fairly absentmindedly, eyes sticking to the sheet on his desk. The door shut as Mister Anders left me to speak to the man alone.

  Yet again, the lord struggled to tear his eyes off of whatever it was on his table that he was so focused on. A scowl flashed over the lord’s face very briefly when a light flickered on the sheet, but it faded with a small hiss as Gregorious looked towards me.

  “So your name is Otto, right?” The aged lord said, pushing the sheet to the end of the desk. He didn’t let me respond. “Do you know why I called you to my home?”

  I blinked slowly and then shook my head hesitantly. “I don’t know why, Lord Grego—”

  “Pah, just call me Grey, Otto.” Lord Gre—Grey—ordered. “My name is just terribly long winded, is it not?” I did not know if I should agree or disagree. “And of course Andy wouldn’t tell you, my nephew is far too stuck up these days.”

  Yet again, I did not know if I should agree or disagree.

  “Anyways, what do you know of horses, Otto?” Lord Grey looked at me with eager eyes, an interested light glowing on his face.

  I…had no clue how to respond to that. “Nothing?” I offer weakly.

  Lord Grey huffed. “What about roulette? Blackjack? Keno, even?” My face grew increasingly confused, and Lord Grey sighed, shaking his head. “Never mind that! What matters is that you will be learning about all of these things.”

  “...why, Sir?”

  Lord Grey grumbled, a frustrated look appearing on his wizened face. I momentarily worried that I had angered him, but that was not the case. “I have a…slight…gambling issue as my late wife would say. It would not be such a problem if I weren’t terrible at it.”

  I couldn’t stop the slightly baffled expression on my face from showing. “But—but why not quit, Sir?”

  “Bah, I can quit whenever I want.” Lord Grey waved his hand casually forward. His eyes unfocused somewhat, almost as if he were caught in a fond memory. “However, I have no desire to do so. Gambling is fun, child…but I have lost eighty percent of my estate. That is why you will be getting an excellent education so that you can make the proper bets for me!”

  If my face could do so, a giant question mark would have glowed on it. “I…do not follow, Sir?”

  “Mh. Well, you see, I am not particularly skilled with numbers. I also do not have the monetary assets to hire a statistician to help me with my bets; but I do have an intelligent serf who could become a great statistician.” Lord Grey mimicked weighing scales between his hands. “It is a win-win, no?”

  I shakily nodded my head, unsure if I was allowed to disagree or not. Lord Grey didn’t seem…that bad, if a little weird. The place was also very nice, the opulence of it far beyond anything I could have ever imagined!

  But…I don’t want to leave my parents. I’ll miss my ma and pa dearly if I have to never see them again.

  Lord Grey remained oblivious to my turmoil, hands clapping together as he smiled brightly. “Great, we have a deal! I believe we are done here, so have Andy bring you to your room.”

  “I get a room?” I asked curiously, excitement clinging at the edge of my voice as I was pulled out of my more depressing thoughts. My family had a one room home in our village, so I can’t even imagine what it is like to have my own space for myself! “As in a place just for me?”

  I had an odd look cast at me by Lord Grey, his forehead wrinkling while his eyes narrowed. “Yes…? You will be earning me great money one day so of course you will be treated well!”

  He spoke like he had never considered treating me badly, something that shocked me a little. I had been expecting a scary, mean noble to be waiting to greet me…but Lord Grey is just weird.

  Maybe I could someday convince him to let me see my parents! Hopefully…

  “Anyways, shoo, shoo. I have work to get back to.” Lord Grey waved his hand casually, dismissing me.

  I was unsure what to do, so I bowed my head and turned around, quickly fleeing the room. I opened the door, walked out, and quickly shut it behind me. Mister Anders was standing outside of it. “...should I call you—call you Andy, Sir?”

  I heard the most pained sigh imaginable from the man. Mister Anders shut his eyes and took a breath in; he quickly let out another agonized sigh. “Your room is five doors down on the left. Find it yourself, child.”

  So maybe I shouldn’t call him Andy, then? I opened my mouth to ask for confirmation, but Mister Anders was already fleeing.

  Okay, then. Time for me to find this room—my room! I moved my legs rapidly and made my way down the hall, counting the doors carefully as I ran. Door one, door three, door five! This one is mine!

  My fingers grasped onto the knob and I pulled the door open: the room was huge! It must’ve been the size of my family’s home. It had the same theme of mahogany and walnut wood that the rest of the villa had.

  There was a big bed placed centrally in the room with each corner having pillars jutting upwards. The blankets were a pristine white—I’d never seen anything so pure before! I ran forward and jumped, flopping face first onto the mattress.

  …holy spirits, it was so soft. I ripped the blankets upwards so I could get under them, the sheets rippling over my body a moment later. It was then that I felt the exhaustion of the past couple days come over me.

  I was exhausted. Snuggling under the white blankets, I was pulled into the land of dreams gently.

  And in my sleep, my mind was met with scraps of memories from a life foreign to my own.