I barely remembered the next hour. I recalled the fresh air after my gag was removed, the pressure releasing from my wrists as the ropes were unbound. I remember the whispering faces of the crowd as I passed them. I remember the long trek up through what I learned were the market, artisan, and manor terraces as we ascended.

My throat was parched. My stomach was empty. I was emotionally and physically spent.

We arrived at House Alaster and Kalculus said something curt at the door. I was whisked away by a hostess in a blue gown down a long hall, then shown into a room the size of a closet. I fell on the bed as if pulled by a powerful magnet.

***

I woke up to a brusque rapping at my door. My muscles protested from all the walking I’d been doing. My shins had lines from where the edge of the bed dug into them. It was about four inches too short for me. It hurt to swallow.

I opened the door. As soon as I opened it a crack, I was hit with a stream of introductions. I also saw the weak light of dawn filtering in through the hall. It was the same woman who’d brought me to the room. She wore a blue gown with black trim. She looked to be in her mid-50s, silver and black wisps of hair paired elegantly up into a clean bun. She had a bundle of clothes in her hands that she deftly hoisted into my arms. She spoke politely and quickly in a no-nonsense way.

“Morning sir. My name is Roquette and I am the head matron of this house. Lord Alaster has given you into my employ this morning. You’re to change then shadow the attendants and prepare and serve House Alaster their breakfast, after which you may eat yourself and tend to the washing.” She wore her authority by talking so quickly and clearly that there wasn’t any room for questions or refusal.

So I was a servant then, or maybe a slave? I mean, if I was to take my pick: polish the boots of nobles or take my chances outside the city, I definitely know what I’d choose every time. But still, the whole ordeal had me rattled.

“What are we to call you?” Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

Well, ok, I think Alaster’s definitely out of the question. Wait, no that makes sense. If Alaster is the proper name for this family, then maybe they do last names first when introducing themselves, like in Japan. Might as well give them my last name.

“Titus. You can call me Titus.”

Something else hit me in that moment. Like a brick. In my stomach. In the storm of emotions and experiences in the last few days, I hadn’t once used the bathroom.

“Um, sorry. Can you show me where the bathroom is?”

The head matron blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Water is provided for bathing once weekly on Rests.”

Oh, man. I’m gonna have to relearn the days of the week now? But more importantly, I really needed to go.

“No, um… I mean..” Think. What else would they call it? Think medieval. Think Renaissance. Think.. “Privy?” I croaked.

“Oh! This way.” Her shoes clacked softly on the wooden floors as she sped down the hall without a hint of impatience or judgment. I followed close behind. Soon we appeared at a set of double doors with silver handles. She made an ushering motion.

I started to feel relieved until I walked through the doors. The bathroom was made up of what looked like 3 benches in a u-shape. At the tops of these benches were holes spaced at regular intervals. An elderly man smiled up at me from the bench to my right. His hair was in a silver bowl cut and he had a bit of a hooked nose with a slightly crooked back. That’s when I realized he was wearing…absolutely nothing.

I quickly turned my head and rushed to the bench farthest opposite him. I hung my bundle of new clothes on a thin rack above my head. I tried to find a way to fold my tunic around me so that I could still have a shred of privacy while trying not to let it touch the hole. He chose that moment to start talking to me.

“Ah, the new ward! Heard a bunches about yas my boy! Did ye grow up a far ways from the city?”

“Yes.”I said shortly, hoping he’d get the hint and let me finish in quiet. No such luck.

“Well I’m glad for a fresh face around here, will make the days shorter, methinks.”

If only this conversation could be shorter. Under less vulnerable circumstances I felt I could have warmed up quickly to his companionable spirit. In anywhere but the bathroom.

“I’m Debble, a greenskeeper here,” he continued. I assumed that meant gardener. “Jol and Sheara be ‘t other two.”

What I thought was, “Go away, go away, go away.” What I said instead was:

“Name’s Titus. Nice to meet you.” After all, it probably wasn’t his fault. This talking-in-the-bathroom business must be normal around here.

He talked some more about his favorite parts of the garden: a sizeable vegetable patch and long rows of herbs. He also mentioned how efficient irrigation was, with this city being so close to the Mantrapper. Fresh water came in through the North of the city, routed through the farm channels and sewers, then dumped the dirty water filled with you-know-what into the river at the South side of the city. Into the same river. Gross.

Thankfully Debble finally got up, and I angled my view so I couldn’t see him fully. I did manage to see how he flushed though. He pulled on a long sliding bar and I could hear a small gate open at the far side of the room. I listened as a stream of water flowed through to the other side, underneath the wooden bench he’d been warming. Then he put his robes on and left with a wave. I finally relaxed.

I finished, then pulled my own sliding bar to flush. I had to admit, I was surprised to see this kind of indoor plumbing here. But then I froze.

I didn’t see any toilet paper anywhere. Agitated, I whirled around to find a bucket. In that bucket was a long wooden dowel with what looked like a tiny pillow at the end of it.

Great, just great.

***

I left the uncomfortable experience behind me, no pun intended. But now I had a fresh new look, compliments of Roquette. I wore a dark blue jacket in black trim, with trousers that matched the same scheme. It came with well-worn leather boots that had just enough room around the toes. I knew it was supposed to be servant garb but I felt really fancy.

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If only DeAnna could see me now. She’d probably make some comment like, “At least you don’t look like a hobo now.” I wondered how she was doing. She was probably strangling a few policemen demanding answers as to where I was. A tinge of sadness fell over me.

Haste refused to let that emotion settle. Roquette’s quick steps ahead of me threatened to leave me behind in the long corridor.

She brought me to a large kitchen. Chefs in blue caps were blanching berries and baking fresh bread. Roquette beckoned me to the dining hall. In it sat a large table covered in cobalt, teal, and white settings. I was handed half a stack of flat cloth napkins, which I immediately realized I didn’t know how to fold.

The other servants flipped and folded the napkins efficiently and perfectly into what looked like little flower bouquets. I just stood there squinting, trying to copy the lightning quick folding of the others. In half a minute the other servants, noticing my still unfolded stack of napkins, quietly stole them away and finished the remainder of the settings. I hung my head in shame as I returned to the kitchen.

A small bell rang, and the chefs scurried on balanced feet with incredible speed, flipping dishes on platters.

“Follow my lead.” Roquette said, lifting a cauldron full of porridge with effortless grace. I hesitated, not knowing if I should grab the bread or the berries first.

“Hmph!” A man in my same garb stepped ahead of me, scooping up the basket of berries in one deft motion. His lower lip reached up to his nostrils.

I growled and picked up the bread basket, following him out the door.

For such a large dining table, only a few people sat around it now.

Kalculus’ wife was now saying some sort of blessing in a tender voice. Kalculus’ eyes were open, brows scrunched in thought. His face was stern, with purple bags under his eyes. He didn’t once look up from his plate. There were two others I didn’t recognize, both appearing proper and stately in blue trimmed with grey. The blessing ended and the servants placed food on the table one tray after another.

As I went to place the bread basket down, I noticed Kalculus glaring at me out of the corner of my eye. Then his expression changed. For an instant he raised his eyebrows, as if revelation struck him like a lightning bolt. His bottom lip twinged into a crooked quarter smile. It felt predatory.

“You. Boy.” he said.

I froze, startled that he addressed me. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Come to my study after your breakfast.” There was nothing warm about his tone. His wife looked curiously at her husband, then over at me.

“S-sure.” I stammered. He didn’t acknowledge me after that, but took a sudden interest in his porridge. I walked back to the kitchen, definitely more than just a bit apprehensive about this upcoming meeting.

After House Alaster finished their trays we moved to pick them up and set them beside the sink. I watched in amazement as a circle at the bottom of the sink started to glow. An orb of water hovered an inch from the bottom. The other servants pushed the gooey knives and berried spoons through the orb and out the other side, restoring them to a pristine shine. Got to be one of the coolest things I’d ever seen.

Then the atmosphere changed. The stiff and formal servants visibly relaxed the tension in their shoulders, and each grabbed a fresh plate to sit down at the dining table. Even Roquette sat at the table, opposite from me. I hungrily joined them. My stomach growled as I realized that I’d only eaten three things in this new world: the burnt porridge, the hard biscuit, and that small fruit. I tore into the soft bread with a beastly ferocity. The porridge was perfect and creamy, and I joined it with a thick spoonful of sweet fruit.

Debble was led by his crooked nose towards us through the doors facing the manor proper. Behind him stepped a woman who looked to be in her thirties with cropped purple hair. Then followed a greying man with a receding hairline and poignantly green overalls. I assumed by the way the three had removed their gloves that they were Sheara and Jol, respectively.

Debble rushed over to me and sat next to me, not bothering with a plate. He grabbed for the bread with thin, strong hands.

“How yas holdin’ up with the slave driver?” Debble asked. He shot a wicked smile over at Roquette who raised an eyebrow at him over her bowl of porridge.

“Oh, she isn’t mean.” I said defensively. If anything, I didn’t want to end up on her bad side. I had enough problems.

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. Before he could continue, Roquette spoke.

“Young Titus, whose son are you?” Roquette asked emphatically. That threw me off guard. First, she transformed from an all-business polite professional to a gabby gossip. Second, she straight up asked about my parents. She continued, oblivious to my growing discomfort.

“I heard you have a connection to House Alaster by blood, but no one seems to know who your parents are.”

The food turned sour in my mouth. It was hard to swallow. A memory of my mom in a wheelchair, staring blankly out our balcony window flooded my mind.

I tried to steel myself, and hid behind a long drink of water.

“They’re…” I choked back a sob, masking it with a cough. “Leon and Rachel. They’re no longer..” I couldn’t finish.

“Oh my dear, I’m so dreadfully sorry. That was insensitive.” She said a few more things but I’d stopped listening.

“It’s fine.” I rose from the table, not even bothering to pick up my plate. “I don’t want to keep Lord Alaster waiting.”

Debble and Roquette exchanged a concerned look.

“He’ll be at your first right, at the doors at the end of the hall” said Roquette, hiding behind her voice of polite professionalism. The voices around me were quiet.

“Thank you.” I was glad I had an excuse to leave.

***

I felt so fragile as I repeated the way to the study like a mantra. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. The memories of my parents were so much stronger these last couple days. Was it because I felt helpless in this alien world, caught in a current so powerful I couldn’t escape? Even with the friendly people like Osner and Debble, I still felt like an outsider.

I found the study easily enough. I knocked on the thick wooden doors.

The pity party can wait. Let’s see what the old grump wants now.

“Ah, come in, come in.” The words were hospitable, but the tone was definitely not.

It felt like the air got colder as I walked through the doors. Many shelves were packed with neatly organized books and leather binders. Kalculus sat at a large mahogany desk, and waved a hand for me to sit. I did so in one of the simple wooden chairs facing him.

Without a moment of pause he started.

“Forgive me for my bare hospitality.” I didn’t hear any genuine regret in his voice, like he was simply reciting from a book on manners. “You are unknown to me, my wife, my son, and the rest of House Alaster. Plainly, I do not trust you.”

I mean, that made sense. Honestly I was as surprised as he was that I had been connected to his family somehow. A strong part of me wanted to figure out why.

“But…” he wagged a finger. A brief glimmer of hope warmed the gloom. Until I saw that predatory smile on his face. He continued.

“I’m going to offer you a chance to establish some trust. Who can say?” He held up his hands and dramatically shrugged. “If all goes well I may deem it appropriate to name a new young lord in House Alaster.”

So no promises, got it. I was really starting to resent getting thrown around. But to become a noble? That might give me access to the information I was looking for, or maybe some powerful connections. Connections I would need to get back home.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“His Excellency the charitable - he practically coughed the word out - King Extravagus the Second is hosting a hunting party and he’s invited each noble house to participate. I want you to go in House Alaster’s stead and contribute to the hunt.

Images of a large white stag being chased by hunting dogs ran through my mind. It was like in one of my father’s stories. Of worlds of magic, knights, princesses, and dragons.

I’m in one of those stories now, dad. I lost myself in a wistful moment.

Then I noticed the growing impatience in Lord Alaster’s face. I was no hunter, but I rode on a horse before. Ok maybe it was a pony. At the circus. Going around in a circle. I figured all I had to do was not fall off the horse and look on like a less-than-amused noble, as if the hunt was beneath me. I could do that.

“I’ll go.” The words practically jumped out of my mouth.

“Good,” the head of House Alaster said with a self-satisfied grin. “You leave this afternoon.”

I wished for a long time afterwards that I could go back to that moment and slap myself.