Authors: Andrea Pearson
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #MG Fantasy
They surveyed each other, Jacob trying not to stare. There were things about the guy that were . . . well, noticeable. He was overweight—that wasn’t too different—but he had moles all along his neck, with some on his balding head. Each mole had thick, dark whiskers. And his jaw seemed uneven, like his teeth were missing on one side. But even though he wasn’t the most attractive person ever, he held himself with confidence, and his presence was commanding.
“What’s your name, boy?”
“Thojac.”
“Have you ever been a footman before?”
“No.”
“Have you ever worked in the castle?”
Jacob shook his head. He hoped the man wouldn’t ask him if he’d ever been a servant, because Jacob’s résumé was pathetic when it came to these things.
The man growled impatiently. “If it weren’t for Prince Dmitri, there would be no way you’d ever step foot in the castle.” He glared at Jacob. “Do you understand? If you don’t follow every instruction completely and thoroughly, there won’t be anyone to save you from the deserved fate of the king’s previous footman.” He pointed. “Forget that, and I’ll have you killed myself.”
Jacob nodded. “No, sir. I won’t. Sir. I, uh . . . What do I call you?”
A smile cracked the man’s stern appearance. “Didn’t introduce myself, did I? I’m Bekett. Head butler to the king. You’ll report to me each day and after each assignment.” He flipped his coat tails and turned to walk away. “Follow me. I’ll show you around.”
Bekett took Jacob around the side of the castle and to a rough-hewn wooden door. “This is the servant’s entrance. If you’re ever caught using the main door, your head will be lopped off before you step across the threshold.”
He stared at Jacob, waiting for confirmation that Jacob had heard.
“Yes, sir.”
“You won’t have many reasons to leave this place. Oh, and don’t lounge around out here, trying to catch the attention of the garden maids.” Bekett smirked. “They’re the king’s, and he doesn’t like sharing.”
Jacob cringed, and Bekett laughed. “Great! You understand.”
The large butler led the way inside and Jacob curled his lip in disgust. He didn’t want to know anything else about this king. Unfortunately, his whole purpose for working in the castle
was
to learn more about the king.
Bekett strode down several narrow, poorly lit hallways, then opened a door into a room with four beds in it. “Here’s where a few of the other footmen sleep. You’ll have that bed over there.” He pointed to one against the far left wall and glanced at Jacob’s rolled-up clothes with disdain. “Go ahead and put your stuff there.”
Jacob jumped to comply. The mattress was stained, and the smell in the room was musty and stank like old sweat. But at least it didn’t smell like urine.
Bekett waited for Jacob, then took him to an eating area for servants. “You’ll receive your assignments for the day here, first thing every morning. They’ll come through me. For now, I want you to memorize the halls of the castle.” He handed Jacob a map. Halls marked in blue were the ones Jacob could use. The ones in red were places he couldn’t ever go unless given permission by Bekett, one of the princes, or by the king himself.
Jacob looked over the map. He’d never Time-Seen to the passages he’d just walked with Bekett. He’d focused mainly on the bigger ones where the king usually walked.
“You can study it later. Come with me.”
Bekett then led Jacob to an incredibly huge laundry room. Great tubs were placed randomly throughout it, along with contraptions that looked like they were meant to squeeze water from clothing. All along one wall were shelves and shelves of clothes.
A cute girl around Jacob’s age approached and curtsied. “How may I help you, Mr. Bekett?”
“Thojac here needs footman uniforms. Figure out his size and get him a couple of sets.” He pointed at Jacob. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Jacob nodded, Bekett left, and Jacob faced the girl. “Thanks.”
She looked down shyly, then back at him, a sparkle in her blue eyes. “Certainly. Please hold out your arms.”
The girl proceeded to measure Jacob’s arms, legs, waist, and chest. He blushed, she blushed, then he blushed even more. Thank goodness Matt wasn’t there to tease them. That would’ve been awful.
She finished and left to gather clothing. He watched her for a moment—she acted a little unsure of herself. Maybe she could feel him looking? He glanced away, but felt his eyes drawn to her again. Then he took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. This wasn’t a good time to get interested in a girl.
She returned, handing him an odd assortment of clothing. “When you’ve worn these two days in a row, use the next set and return the first for a replacement.” She flushed once more. “I’ll be here. I’ll help you again.”
Jacob smiled and she returned it, the grin reaching her eyes. She really was cute—maybe things in the castle wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Okay, I’ll come again.”
He turned to leave, then remembered Bekett had said he’d be back for him. So instead, Jacob leaned against the wall, trying to appear as casual as possible. He felt the girl’s eyes on him and every time he turned to see, she glanced down bashfully. Was she flirting with him? Or was she genuinely shy about him looking at her? He couldn’t tell, and almost wished Matt were there to interpret. But if Matt were there, then he’d have to deal with the teasing . . . so not worth it.
Jacob couldn’t help it—he enjoyed her attention. But at the same time, he wished Bekett would hurry. There was only so much “casual” Jacob could pull off before his façade disappeared and he did something to embarrass himself.
Finally the senior footman-valet-butler-whatever-he-was returned. He took Jacob back to the footmen room and had Jacob change clothes, leaving his own in a box by his bed. Jacob was surprised to find that the new clothes were much better than his old.
He joined Bekett in the hall. “These are nice clothes. Why?”
“You’ll be in the presence of the king. You need to be presentable.”
Bekett led Jacob to the eating area again just as others were arriving for dinner. He explained that the servants ate in shifts and that Jacob would take his turn at six thirty. Jacob looked around, wanting to see the girl from the laundry, but she wasn’t there. He did notice one thing, however—he was getting a lot of stares and gawks. That wasn’t surprising. He was probably the newest person employed at the castle.
Bekett took charge as everyone loaded their plates with food from the dishes that lined the center of the long table. He introduced Jacob, and Jacob watched the room curiously—these people weren’t pleased to have him around. The expressions on their faces were skepticism, annoyance, and jealousy. He figured he’d probably jumped over several people to get into his new position, and they weren’t happy.
Jacob ate dinner in silence, listening to the chatter around him. He wasn’t surprised most of it was gossip about servants not present or the princes or the king. Jacob would need to be very careful not to do something to put himself in their conversations. They were really vicious and bitter.
Nervousness hit him hard—this was going to be difficult. How would he pull it off? If Dmitri had questioned his originations and story, these servants definitely would. Nearly every person present at the table would love to get rid of the newest footman.
Jacob would need to become practically invisible to everyone except Bekett and the king, and soon.
Oh, and except to the girl in the laundry. He smiled at his plate, sheepish for having this thought. He hadn’t really liked someone since Aloren . . . and, well, that hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped.
The rest of Jacob’s evening was open—no assignments just yet. He decided to go to his room with the intention of returning home to deliver a report. But the room wasn’t empty—one of the other footmen was there. The guy was probably Matt’s age—around sixteen—and about the same size as Matt. That was where the similarities ended, however. He wasn’t confident and bold and he didn’t have a strong personality.
The guy’s name was Sarot and he seemed nice enough—the colors in the air around him showed he wasn’t hiding anything. But Jacob wouldn’t be able to trust just yet. He’d need to see how things went first.
“Is there anything you want to know about being in the castle?” Sarot asked. There wasn’t any malice behind his question, and that was refreshing.
Jacob shrugged and sat on his bed, leaning up against the wall. “I’m just overwhelmed.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” Sarot also sat, his bed two away from Jacob. “I can give you information on who to avoid, if you’d like.”
Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Why? I mean, I don’t want to be rude, but why would you do that for me?”
Sarot smiled. “Not everyone here is evil.” He laughed. “Okay, only a couple aren’t. But when I became a footman, I decided I’d do all I could to help other people feel welcome. We do get new servants occasionally who weren’t raised working in the castle, and most everyone treats them like sewage. I can help prevent unpleasant situations and I’d like to do that, if you’re interested.”
Jacob could feel Sarot’s sincerity, and the colors in the air around him showed he was telling the truth. Jacob sat up straighter. “That would be great, actually. I really don’t want to step on toes.”
“Well, the other two footmen who sleep here, Jesson and Mindac, are rude and immature. They’re both eighteen, but act as if they’re twelve. They’re crude and vulgar. Stay away from them as much as possible—they’ll do their best to make life miserable for you, especially Mindac. He’s the one with red hair.”
Jacob nodded. “Kinda bites that I’m in the same room with them.”
“Bites?”
“Yeah. Meaning, it’s not good.”
Sarot shrugged. “Pretty much any room you’d end up in would be the same way. There are twenty-five footmen total. Most of them are horrendous.”
Jacob sighed. Of course they would be awful. That’s how Keitus operated things. “How did you come to be . . . er, employed in the castle?”
“Funny—I was about to ask you that same question.”
Jacob smiled. “I needed work, and Prince Dmitri said there was an opening here.”
Sarot’s face paled. “You know Prince Dmitri?” He glanced at the door, then back at Jacob, wringing his blanket. “He’s dangerous.” He opened his mouth to say something more, his eyes flicking to Jacob, then he shut his mouth.
Jacob frowned. Why the sudden change in mood? The colors in the air around Sarot were no longer peaceful, but showed suspicion and nervousness.
Then Jacob figured it out: Sarot was suspicious about
Jacob
.
But Jacob wasn’t sure why. “What’s going on? I don’t know much about the royal family. I only met Prince Dmitri a few days ago.”
“Well . . . the king is awful. And his sons are just as bad. I know there are rumors that Dmitri has changed, but I don’t believe them. People don’t change—not like that, anyway.”
Jacob tried to make it look like he hadn’t heard any of this before. He wasn’t sure how successfully he pulled it off, but he really did need to appear to be clueless. “I didn’t know—I don’t want to be involved in anything that’ll cause problems for me or my family. Please help me know what to do to protect myself.”
Sarot took a deep breath and relaxed. “I understand your position, and I will assist as things come up.” He closed his eyes. “You asked me how I started here. Well, my mom works in the kitchen and my dad in the stable. I was a page for several years and they wanted me to become a squire. But my dream is to be a valet, or even head butler, and I was really lucky to secure a position as footman. That’ll help me get to my dream fastest.”
Jacob had a hard time following as soon as he learned that Sarot’s life-long dream was to be a butler. That was really sad. Why would he set his sights so low? Jacob had always wanted to be an NBA player, making millions and millions a year. Or even a successful business owner, also making millions a year, hiring people who needed work. Now
that
was a goal to work toward.
They continued talking about the ins and outs of the castle, and Jacob was pleased to find that Sarot really did know a lot about life there. He couldn’t get over how lucky he was to have the guy as a roommate. Maybe someday he’d get up the courage to ask about the girl in the laundry. But it was better not to say anything yet—not until he knew Sarot better.
While they were talking, the other two footmen entered the room, interrupting the conversation. Sarot gave Jacob a half smile, then curled up under his blanket. Jacob understood Sarot’s actions—going to sleep was better than communicating with these guys.
Mindac was the taller of the two, and though Jacob had the body of a basketball player—good, defined arm and leg muscles—he knew he’d never win in a physical fight with the guy. Mindac was huge.
He quickly learned why Sarot disliked them, and wished he had earbuds and music to tune them out. He couldn’t believe how very foul-mouthed and vulgar a pair of guys could be. They were talking about some of the maids and Jacob found himself clenching his fists, wishing he could beat the heck out of them. Mom wouldn’t ever approve of him thinking that way about the guys, but even she would take a broom to them.
Eventually, however, they fell asleep. Jacob took advantage of their unconsciousness and returned to the present to report to Mom and get messages from Early. Things back home were exactly the same as they were earlier that day—Dad was still in prison, unfortunately. Mom missed him, Kenji missed Ebony, everyone missed someone. And the Lorkon still weren’t really doing anything, aside from being cruel.
Jacob Traveled back to Troosinal and curled up in his bed, wishing there were more blankets. He tried to fall asleep, but couldn’t stop thinking about Matt and Aloren, wondering if they were safe. After fifteen minutes, he sat up, making a decision.
Time-Seeing to Dmitri’s room, he verified that the prince was awake and in a position to possibly receive a visitor.
Knowing he could get in huge trouble for doing so, Jacob Keyed to a room next to Dmitri’s, then knocked on the prince’s door.
“Who is it?” Dmitri asked. It didn’t sound like he’d gotten up from his desk.