Book 1 Chapter 1: The Master's Wife

Quiet and alone, a young lad wandered the gardens, awaiting his master’s return. The cool evening air was cool against his wolf-like ears. With his sensitive hearing, he picked up on the normal palace rumors. Servants asking why they hadn’t heard from their Ulrika in such a long time. Truth be told, it weighed on his heart too. He hadn’t run away again, had he? If he had, what would happen to them? This was their home, a place of refuge against a cruel world that had left him orphaned and the others widowed, lone parents raising children.

This unique setting was the Old Ulrika’s doing. His dying wish lingered, a weight Vero carried: guide my son. Raised in the master’s stead, Vero had learned to tend this haven, a role that filled his young chest with pride, though he lacked the years or blood to claim it. The Ulrika, ever the wanderer, had fled noble duties before, spurning pomp and courtly ladies. Was this trip to “find a wife” just another excuse to escape? Vero’s tail flicked, a wry smile tugging his lips. He’d chide the Ulrika yet, as the old man asked.

A click at one of the doors of the palace made his ears twitch and he was drawn from his musings. His tail rose, heart quickening. A door swung open and Vero found himself quickly, yet calmly, walking towards the source. The Ulrika stepped through, cloak dusty from travel, and Vero smiled, bowing deeply.

“Welcome home Ulrika,” he said in greeting, relieved to see him back, and chiding himself for his doubts.

“It’s good to be back lad,” the master responded, warmly, still not sticking to decorum. Vero took the master’s cloak, it’s weight familiar, and followed toward the offive, ears still pricked.

“Was the trip a success?” Vero asked, testing if he should bring back his suspicions.

“Indeed,” the master replied with a hint of humor and amusement in his tone. Vero barely managed to contain his surprise. The way he had answered made him suspicious. It was too happy, too pleased.

“Welcome home, sir,” another servant said in greeting. Vero looked over at the whiskered man with a grin. His master also smiled at the sight of the other servant.

“Bartemaus, how did things go?” the master asked.

“Smoothly sir. With the young master Vero at the helm, how else could it go,” the older man said.

“I see,” the master said, looking at Vero with a gleam of appreciation and pride in his eyes. The young boy looked down bashfully. Even Bartemaus, the head servant, the one who had been here the longest and commanded the most repsect among servants was praising him. He didn’t feel he deserved it. He worked hard, but it was because of older Yowlume like Bartemaus, that this place functioned.

“T’was nothing Master,” he replied. The master laughed a hearty laugh, drawing his attention up.

“Don’t be bashful about this Vero lad,” the master replied and Vero nodded once in acknowledgement to the order, but his heart wouldn’t take it. He still lacked in too many areas.

“If you say so, sir,” he said and the master smiled. Vero heard a few of the other servants coming, no doubt having heard the voice of the master. Not wanting to have to face the throng who adored the master, he reached out his free hand.

“I’ll take those then, Master,” Vero said, indicating to his things. The master nodded and handed him the rest of his belongings right before the servants appeared. Vero ducked out and headed to the master’s quarters. Even from his location, he still could make out the voices of the others, asking for more information on the Master’s latest trip.

“Did you find one?” a lady servant asked. Vero knew her voice. She shared a lot of her romantic endeavors and had a chance to share romantic tips with the others.

“I found the one,” the master replied. There was lots of chatter so Vero lost track of what they were asking. Suddenly there were some outbursts and the tones changed to hurt or upset. He paused and concentrated on the noise instead of his work, making his way around the corridors and towards the stair.

“What do you mean that most of us won’t be able to serve?” one voice said above the rest. Vero looked back as his hand rested on the door to the master’s quarters and stilled.

“Only that this one I have in mind doesn’t like servants,” the master’s voice said calmly and clearly. Vero chewed on his bottom lip. Where they getting another servant who didn’t like others? Would he be dismissed? Would the others also loose their position, their livelihood? This was his family, his home. He couldn’t stand the idea of loosing it. He blocked out the noise, opting to get back to work. The rumors would reach him soon anyway, so he didn’t need to keep the work waiting.

Vero hung Ulrika’s cloak in the master’s quarters, the familiar scent of cedar and wax soothing his unease. The hall outside buzzed with servant voices—widows and fathers, still seeking answers about Ulrika’s absence. His ears drooped, heavy with their worry, his own doubts lingering. Footsteps approached, soft but deliberate, and a hand grazed his shoulder. Vero yelped, tail bristling, spinning to face Ulrika’s warm but troubled gaze.

“Sorry Vero. I didn’t mean to startle you,” the master said, removing his hand.

“No, it’s my fault for not paying attention, master,” Vero said with a deep bow. “I apologize.”

“So what were you thinking about lad? You were awfully lost in it. I called several times without a response,” the master pointed out.

“Ack, I’m so sorry sir,” Vero apologized again. “Just… thinking about your trip.”

“So you heard that then?” the master asked and Vero gulped, wondering if this was the moment everything in his life would come to an end. The master walked over to the window and stared out of it for a while.

“Sir?” Vero asked, having finished his work.

“Lad, I have a special task for you,” the master said with a hushed tone. Vero stared intently and waited for the instructions that would spell out his fate.

“I’m asking you because I believe you are up to the task. Starting in one week, a certain gel will be coming here. She doesn’t know how things run around here, and I need you to teach her the manners and etiquette of being an Ulrika.” Vero’s wolfish ears perked up.

“Sir? Wait… does this mean?” Vero started to ask as the gears in his mind turned. “She agreed?”

“Yes lad. Will you take on this special task?” the master asked as he knelt down to Vero’s height. Vero bowed on one knee then looked at his master in firm determination.

“Of course sir. It would be my honor to serve your future wife,” Vero said with a big grin. His tail began to wag and he stiffened it. It wouldn’t do to show his pleasure at the idea.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” the master said, placing a hand on Vero’s shoulder. “She’s a special case, and a former warrior, so her manners are… shall we say rash…” the master said with a bemused chuckle. Vero cocked his head in question. “Well, you’ll understand when you meet her. In any case, I need a bath, mind drawing the water for me?”

“Of course Ulrika, sir. You have but to command it,” Vero said with a bow of his head. The Ulrika looked at Vero in surprise then chuckled. Vero had learned the phrase from Bartemaus, and knew that as a servant, it was fitting. He did not understand why his master found it amusing.

“Did I say something funny?” Vero asked, standing. The Ulrika looked at Vero and waved him off.

“Another time lad,” he replied. Vero bowed then left to do as he had been commanded to do.

He rounded the corner and ran down some steps, the impromptu wind whistling around his wolf-like ears. He jumped past the last step and dashed towards the well.

Vero hauled water from the well, the bucket’s weight familiar in his hands, the palace’s hum a faint comfort. Firelight danced in the bath chamber as he poured, steam rising to warm the stone. Ulrika’s words echoed. This woman, scorning servants, her fire a threat to all he held dear. The widows, the fathers, his found family… could they survive her? His ears drooped, tail still, the task’s rhythm no match for his racing thoughts.

A servant’s voice drifted from the hall, low and shaken. “A servant-hater, he says… what’s to become of us?” Vero’s heart tightened. The Ulrika’s worried gaze lingered in his mind. He set the bucket down, water sloshing, and steeled himself. Whatever this woman brought, he’d face it. He had to for the palace, for his family. The fire crackled, casting shadows, and Vero’s resolve flickered in the warmth.

With the water at a comfortable temperature he went and fetched the master’s towels and last, the master himself. When the master arrived, Vero closed the door.

Since he had first begun his service to the Ulrika, he had learned that the master did not like to be pampered like other royals and nobles. He preferred to have some sense of self-sufficiency, as opposed to human aristocrats. Even the former Ulrika, with all his commanding Yowlume presence had enjoyed the luxuries of Humans, but his son had not.

Vero left the master alone and wandered the halls, eventually coming up to the other servants of the palace. He had been told that their numbers were smaller than a normal human’s palace, but the master liked it this way. Vero noted the dropping ears and saddened faces of the servants.

“What’s the matter?” Vero asked, taking on his role as chief servant.

“Vero sir. We won’t be here for much longer serving the Master with you…” one of the younger ladies said. She was still a good age older than him, so he had to look up to her as she spoke. Vero kept his ears up. What he head was correct.

“Where will you go?” he asked, looking at each of their faces. They were like family to him. He worried about their futures. Bartemaus came forwards and placed his hand on Vero’s shoulder.

“Most will still work at the palace, but they won’t be serving the Ulrikas personally anymore.”

“Master mentioned something like that…” Vero started but a young boy spoke up and was silenced by the older Yowlume.

“She hate’s servants,” another child said.

“She hates servants? What… does she kill them?” Vero asked, a light tease in his words.

“Um.. Yes,” the young boy said and Vero’s countenance sunk. Was this what the master had meant when he said ‘special task’? Was he putting his life on the line?

“Young lad,” Bartemaus said, waving his hand in front of Vero’s face. “Are you alright?”

“Uh… yes…” he wanted to withhold his new role in conseradtion of their plight, but decided agaisnt it. “The master just is having me serve her,” Vero said softly. Some of the female servants lightly gasped and the energy in the space plummeted. Vero’s ears fell to the side along with his hands. Even his tail fell in dismay.

“Well, I’m sure that it’s just rumors lad. She’ll like you for sure, so don’t fret,” Bartemaus said, patting Vero on the back. His words were hollow and not at all comforting, no matter what he intended. Vero pushed away and walked down a hallway, slowly allowing himself to wander around till the Master would be likely done with his bath. As he approached the door, it swung open and the master peeked his head out the door.

“Ah, Vero lad, here you go,” the master said as he handed him part of the load of laundry and tools. Vero grabbed it and silently followed after the Ulrikan, lost in his own thoughts.

Author Note: Hi guys, this story is written in multiple books/arcs; 4 in total. However, I always considered it 1 book, so while it will be 'broken up' into 4 'books' it will all be in 1 book honeyfeed. Hopefully that makes sense.