Foster

“Curiosity. My curiosity.” The next morning, I shove my blankets under the bed so aggressively that a splinter nips my palm. “’Since your curiosity is sated,’” I mock while tugging the splinter free. “That deplorable jackass is asking to be cursed.”

There I was, pouring my heart out last night, and he calls it mere curiosity. I may not be as studied in witchcraft as I once was, but a long list of curses is seared into my memory.

This shouldn’t upset me so much. Harvey warned me that Sylas is going down a bad path. I have yet to see what that path entails, but he certainly has a bitterness to him that wasn’t there in our youth. People change. We make decisions we regret. We meet people we wish we hadn’t.

Obviously, I didn’t come here expecting Sylas to be the same, but that doesn’t make this less disappointing, worrisome, and bothersome. If he weren’t a king that could have me killed for looking at him funny, I would have cussed him out.

“Foster?” Alyssa calls with a soft knock. “Are you awake?”

“I am. Please, come in.”

Alyssa enters carrying my uniform, explaining they will bring more over the coming days. She says she’ll wait in the lounge while I change. The fabric of the suit is thin, soft, and breathable. Afterward, I step out to find her speaking with Harvey. Their conversation falls silent, although Harvey’s nervous expression tells of bad news; he couldn’t convince Sylas to let me stay, which I already knew.

“I’m not leaving,” I say, causing Harvey’s eyes to widen and Alyssa’s lips to twitch into a wry grin. “Last night, His Majesty summoned me to his chambers and informed me you were to escort me home today, but I am not going.”

Alyssa pats my cheek. “Oh, I like you very much.”

“As do I.” Harvey crosses his arms and settles a hand beneath his chin. “His Majesty will be upset that we aren’t following his orders. I must remind you he isn’t the boy you remember. If we push him too far, there will be consequences.”

“He speaks truthfully,” Alyssa adds. “His Majesty shows kindness, but of late, there have been incidents. The wrong step at the wrong time and his cruelty knows no bounds.”

I’ve handled people like that before. Seems I’m incapable of ever truly losing them. Leaving may be best, but I owe Sylas a lot. I wouldn’t have learned magic at all if not for him and Lord Sarraze enthusiastically throwing spell books at me. For him, for the time we had, I must try.

“Are you trying to tell me he has hurt staffers before?” I ask.

“He has. Some punishments I found fitting and others I found too extreme,” Alyssa replies. “And over the last year or so, he has become increasingly suspicious. He fired twenty members of our staff in one day simply for mentioning the late Undying King’s name.”

“I appreciate the warning and understand this will be difficult, but if the two of you are alright with my decision, I still want to stay.”

“There is nothing wrong with a little challenge,” Harvey says. “His Majesty likely won’t see you this first week anyway, so he can cool off before you show up grinning like a maniac in his bedroom.”

“I imagine his expression will be priceless.”

“And I am jealous you will see it instead of me.” Harvey laughs. “Thank you for sticking with this. If you run into trouble, let me know.”

“Will do.”

With that, Harvey takes his leave, and I shadow Alyssa through her daily routine to get a grasp on how the staff works throughout the day. From caring for the linens to cleaning to locating where everything goes, all this information in a day makes me realize why I have a week to observe her. There is a lot to go over. Sylas’ housing area is extensive, but a mere speck in the grand expanse of the castle. At times, I may be sent to do other jobs, so I have to prepare for that. It differs from the pub, albeit equally exhausting. Alyssa kindly gives me moments sprinkled throughout the day to catch my breath. Then, at the day's end, my aching feet take me to the dining room for supper.

Staff sit at the tables congregated in the same groups from yesterday. I take to the connected kitchen where cooks have laid out plates on the counter. After grabbing one, I search for a seat when someone calls behind me, “You’re His Majesty’s new attendant, is that right?”

The handsome man has a charming smile that reveals a single dimple in his sun-kissed left cheek. His hooded eyes hold an unusual red color, almost pale. A half vampire, then. The sleeves of his white button-down shirt have been rolled up to the elbows, showing off the veins in his muscular arms.

Heat creeps up my neck, and I have to remind my voice that it can work. “Yes, I’m Foster Laywell, and you are?”

“Tristan.” He presents a hand to shake, calloused and firm. “I’m one of the butlers. Would you like to sit with us?” He gestures toward a nearby table.

“Sure.”

I follow Tristan to the table where we take our seats. Beside me sits another handsome man, potentially my age or a few years younger, with golden tawny skin and thin brown eyes. A smooth beard hugs his round face and his shoulders span the horizon. He could move a house with hands that size, although his smile would make anyone view him as a gentle giant, which has me wondering if he has giant’s blood.

“This is Buddy. He is one of the groundskeepers,” Tristan introduces.

“And you must be that Foster fellow,” Buddy says with a voice that matches his powerful stature. He shakes my hand with a strength I doubt he realizes he has. “A pleasure to meet you. If ya need help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m always out in the garden.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply.

Tristan then gestures to the two cute maids across the table and introduces them, Kassi and Jasmine. Kassi’s brown hair is cut into a boyish bob that hugs her pale, thin, and bored-looking features. Her right arm is a wooden prosthetic, movable by a witch’s magic, and the strap holds tight across her chest. Jasmine has a bubbly smile set upon light brown skin. Long black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail and her bushy brows make one pay close attention to her upturned brown eyes, gorgeous as a winter forest.

“You don’t have to answer this if you do not want to, but you aren’t from around here, are you?” Jasmine asks. Her fingers tap together in front of her.

“No, I’m from the Gragoria Kingdom,” I answer.

“It’s the accent,” she giggles, then waves a hand. “It’s nice, is what I want to say.”

“What brought you all the way here? I haven’t heard of anyone posting a job for your position.” Kassi’s tone makes her sound disinterested, but she watches with careful calculation. That’s when I notice her eyes, they flicker silver in the light. Werewolf. There are plenty in Gragoria, seeing as the previous ruling family belonged to a long line of werewolves.

“Lord Halbert brought you, didn’t he?” Buddy asks, speaking Harvey’s name softly, like he thinks the witch may curse him if he uses the wrong tone. “I saw you arrive with him the other day. Did he seek you out personally?”

“No, uh, it is a bit of a long story. Lord Halbert was in my town at the time I was sick with the Weeping Plague. That’s how we first met. While he was out on personal business the other day, we ran into each other and got to talking. My job was falling a little flat, so he was kind enough to offer me this position, and thought I would hold up well under His Majesty’s scrutiny,” I explain the lie Harvey and I agreed upon with a smile, hoping it’s believable.

“He is quick in his attempts to find His Majesty a new attendant, although I am surprised considering the last one left with a broken hand.” Jasmine squeaks from my wide-eyed stare. “The attendant was a jerk. He got handsy with some of the other staff. Not to say His Majesty should have broken his fingers one by one, or maybe I am saying that. He was utterly insufferable.” Jasmine sighs and grabs her glass to mutter over the rim. “I will stop speaking now.”

“Don’t worry.” I laugh between bites of my meal. “I have been warned about His Majesty’s temperament. Trust me, I worked in a pub before this, so I’ve handled my fair share of violent customers, mortal and mythical alike.”

Vampires included. They were more rare, but Davin had holy water in a squirt bottle under the bar. When a vamp bared their fangs, we’d spritz them and they ran screeching.

“Speaking of His Majesty, could any of you tell me a bit about him?” I ask. “Any information may help with my upcoming duties.”

“I fear there is not much to share. He is secretive,” Tristan answers, and I pay far too much attention to the sliver of tan skin peeking past the few undone buttons on his shirt. “And even the oldest staff here hasn’t served for more than five years. When he took over, he fired everyone, and nearly a year passed before he had a full staff.”

“He is a busy man,” Buddy adds. “Doesn’t spend much time around us, but he has always been nice to the garden. I have caught him taking a walk there in the evenings from time to time.”

Sylas always liked the gardens at Sarraze, too. Neither of us knew a damn thing about flowers, but the gardens had a pleasant aroma and were a perfect place to nap or hide from his instructors.

Jasmine leans across the table to whisper, “This should be obvious, but never mention the late Undying King, his children, or anything that put His Majesty on the throne in his presence. Those who do lose their jobs or potentially their heads. It’s best to act as if the past never happened.”

It seems we both love to set the past aside.