Only a Butler Knows the Secrets of his Master

“Keillweist.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Cancel the dismissal of the cook.” The Duke Luphor said in a categorical tone, one I barely heard him use for anything else than ordering an act of pure vengeance.

    A whim?

    My young master often had such, but it was always at the cost of someone’s welfare. A servant fired, an enemy beheaded, these were parts of what became my daily life at his side.

    But, a whim of goodness?

    Unsure if my mind wasn’t just playing tricks on me, I didn’t even notice that I stared at him for longer than I should have before the duke glanced at me. Knowing better than to make him wait, I hurried out of the room.

    Only once I passed the threshold did I take a step aside, leaning against the door. Collecting my thoughts, my mind drifted to the duke’s flustered state.

    When he asked me to do research about the Marquessa Ambrillia, I thought this lady would be but a fleeting distraction.

“Fleeting, it must be. For what will remain of my lord’s life if kindness clouds his judgment?”

༻❦︎༺

    A bunch of letters in my grasp, I take a few steps away from the double door. One after another, I review the envelopes, taking the time to observe the wax seal keeping them unprofaned.

    While most of them wear the mark identifying a given noble family, some are of little intricacy, if not a few drops of wax for the messiest of them. The latters are generally letters from these potion merchants, attempting to get a hearing with my lord in a hope of selling him more potions than he already has. And God knows how many he has of them… More than people he sent to jail, which is, in my humble opinion, quite concerning.

    Of course, it is in a hope of getting recognition that such merchants reach for him. Who would be more appropriate than a grand evil mastermind feared throughout Emphrellaig to promote their, more than often, twisted mixtures?

    As I review the letters one by one, a particular seal gets my attention. A gem finely depicted, down to the impurities dotted inside. One that I learnt to recognise at first sight over the past weeks.

    I pause.

    Another letter from the Marquessa Ambrillia…

    After a moment of hesitation, I resume my steps. Crossing the corridors with a steady pace, my feet retrace day after day the same route they are used to taking through the mansion at this early hour. A circuit that only changed a handful of times over the last four decades, depending on the number of this place’s occupants. Once twice, briefly three, twice again before fate left him lonely.

    For more than a decade, the young master has achieved not only restoring the Luphor’s influence, but even spreading his dominance beyond Oneixium’s original limits. The inhabitants suffer his whimsical dictatorship, and I fear that the number of them having once been part of his servants will soon reach a third of them… but at least no one else dares to spread chaos over these lands. Nor do they try to endanger his life.

    For more than a decade, he followed a steady path.

    And yet…

“My lord, we just received an important delivery of candy feathers. There are a dozen boxes of them in the entrance… What should be done with those?” I asked two weeks ago, the day after we announced Gallghaid’s parents’ execution.

“Ohh no… Not that…” He uttered with a hint of dread in his gaze.

    Yet I expected an answer.

“Ughhh… Send them to that orphanage in Ambrosia. The one the Marquessa Ambrillia handles.” He waved me off. “Orphans like this kind of things, right? That will do the trick.”

“Am I supposed to poison them with a lethal or non lethal substance?”

    At my words, my lord stared at me. He opened his mouth as if about to utter something, but held back. Instead, he frowned.

“None.” He ended up replying.

    Confused by the innocent request, I watched him turn away and resume his daily shenanigans.

    Only later did I learn that this was another proof of the young master’s growing affliction. Affection.

    Day after day, I observed him. Either while accomplishing my butler’s tasks or standing still by his side, awaiting any request. One day he paces through the mansion without aim, often ending up lingering in front of his father’s painting. Another, he proceeds to a curious ritual, scribbling furiously on parchment as if possessed by some uncanny demon before scrunching it and burning it right away. As if practising exorcism.

    I managed once to take a peek at the salvaged paper, spotting hearts inked over in a corner…

    Since the young master’s return from the Night of the Evil Moon, a week or so ago, his behaviour shifted again. He can now spend hours lost in reflection, something clearly weighing on his mind.

    As I reach the first floor, I’m about to head to the young master’s office, when a curious noise reaches my old ears.

    Pausing, I glance surprised at the corridor leading to a room, one left empty for many years now.

“Could this be a newly arrived maid? I am the one handling any cleaning duties in the room of the departed master… I guess they could have forgotten.”

    I should better handle this before the duke finds out. He never liked the idea of anyone approaching this room, let alone entering it.

    Last time a servant had the uncanny idea to get her hands too close to the precious black gemstones embedded on the door, and the young master caught her in the act.

    Her hands were off before she even noticed his presence.

    As I approach a large door adorned with elegant engravings, left mid-open, I hear the rustle of papers, small objects being moved around.

    The moment I reach to push the door open is the one I hear an all too familiar voice.

“Not there.” The Duke Luphor mutters. “It isn’t here…”

    Knelt near a willow chest of drawers, I find him reviewing its contents, a pile of books, papers, and personal effects carefully ordered at his sides.

“My lord?”

    At my words, he turns a weary look towards me, the dark circles under his eyes betraying a sleepless night.

“Ahh… Keillweist. You came at the right moment.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Do you know where father kept the feather he offered mother in proposal? I spent hours searching, yet I can’t find it anywhere.”

    Insecure.

    For a while, I remain without answering. Letting the words dissolve before they take up too much space.

    Why does the future of the Luphor always need to be so insecure?

“If I may ask, why… are you looking for it all of a sudden, my lord?”

    A sigh.

“During the Night of the Evil Moon, Gallghaid addressed me with some strange words. At first, I thought it was but a distraction, simply a way for him to win enough time.”

    In a slow motion, as if half lost in his memories of that night, the young master keeps massaging the back of his head. “Yet, I can’t help it. I have to see it for myself. I have to check if there’s anything weird with it.” He pauses. “It would make no sense, though. What could cause an angel’s feather to blacken?”

    Silence.

“Keillweist?” His voice calls. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you know where it is?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, my lord. Please excuse my ineptitude to help you.”

    After a while, the Duke Luphor gingerly places the different objects back into their drawers. Standing up. Crossing the room until pausing in front of me, glancing down.

“Today’s letters?”

“Ahh, yes.” I hand my young master the pack of envelopes, grateful for the distraction they represent.

    Not saying anything else, he takes them and begins to pass them in review, quietly, as he bypasses me.

    Another sigh. Heavier.

    Only when he reaches the threshold does he utter a few words in a voice lacking evilness.

“Again, no letter from Ambrillia.”

    Turning to face the duke, I observe his disheartened expression. Were the words of Gallghaid truly what concerned him, or was his morning research an excuse to banish unevil thoughts?

“Indeed, my lord.”