Goblins.

Pitiful, wretched, creatures that dwelt in the dark tunnels and tight corridors of the Black Forest.

They were small, about the size of a human child – and hardly much stronger otherwise.

With regards to their abilities, they were the epitome of the creator’s unfairness, having been dealt such a bad hand in every way: being as a rule small, weak, unintelligent, impulsive, and – as if to add insult to injury – they were the only speaking race in all the continents without a divine gift

The goddess had been cruel to create such wretches indeed..

Perhaps the only advantage dealt to them was their rate of growth. A two year old goblin was about as capable as an eight year old human… and they would remain that capable for the remainder of their lives.

Even this advantage was a mocking one, however, meant to fit their fast lives and – very often – quick deaths.

Naturally, many naive adventurers quickly flocked into the Black Forests from all the surrounding lands, entering unprepared into the dark tunnels and tight corridors of that wicked place. They entered not as cautious warriors, but laughing and singing to themselves as if on a victory parade, expecting an easy round of conquest.

And, naturally… they were actually kind of onto something.

The Goblin tribes were shattered within weeks, and the villages routed, and the dominion of the Goblins over the Black Forest came to a quick and unceremonious end.

In the old days, the Black Forest had been known as a place of danger, an exporter of wondrous tales of fantastic beasts.

These days, the Black Forest had only one major export: goblin slaves, and profits were rising.

Goblins had become a hot commodity all across the Eyelelan Kingdom, not for their talent as much as their price and disposability.

Much of the market’s recent growth had been driven by an adoption of goblin servants by noble families in the more rural regions of Eyelela. It had been a tough battle by sales people and prospectors to sell to this market. The rural folk of Eyelela were a rough people that were bound by tradition, and having Goblins in the house – tending to your children and handling your food – was hardly traditional.

Still, hard fought as it had been, it was a battle that had been won by the sales department. Goblin servants had become a rising fashion among the rural elites of Eyelela, one that was quickly finding its place as an accepted norm.

Still, all changes had their growing pains and little troubles, and elites being what they were – wealthy with money and free time – every little trouble transformed into the largest scandal once the rumor mill got its mittens onto the story.

Thus, the stage is set.

For it was here, in Rural Eyelela, inside the Baumstein family palace, that a little goblin was born.

Her birth… was one of the expected growing pains, and the trouble it caused was serious enough that it never made it to the rumor mill.

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Jade… it was the color of her hair, and her namesake.

Looking at her, one might have been tempted to assume she was named Jade because of her skin color, but that would be a silly thought.

Name all your goblins after their skin color, and you’d run out of synonyms pretty fast.

No, Jade was named after her hair, and she was quite proud of it, too. She was just too lucky! Not only was she the most beautiful goblin in the household, she also had such a rare hair color to boot! It matched her skin, she thought.

Jade stood on the chair overlooking the vanity mirror, sticking her tongue out in concentration as she took a strand of her hair and pressed it against her cheek, trying to see how closely it matched through the corner of her eye.

Weiss let out a mocking scoff from the bedside where she was dusting. “Stupid. You know you can just use the mirror to look at yourself, right?”

Jade only kept straining her eyes to look down at her cheek. “Ugh, I know,” she scoffed back, “I’m just trying to see if my hair matches my skin when it’s not a reflection. You know mirrors can change how colors look, not that you have any reason to look in a mirror.”

Jade let go of her strands to laugh at Weiss.

In truth, Weiss wasn’t ugly by any means. She had smooth skin and a symmetrical face, but – in an honest account of things – she didn’t hold a candle to Jade. In fact, none of the other goblins did, and they knew it, and Jade just loved to remind them whenever she could work it into a conversation, or otherwise force the conversation to go in that direction.

Weiss only scowled harder and went back to dusting.

“Have you finished dusting the other side,” Weiss asked to the third goblin in the room.

Scarlet – the third goblin – remained silent, simply grunting as she continued wiping down the bedside silver.

“Oh, good,” Weiss smiled, “it sure is nice when people do their work.” Her eyes were on Scarlet, but the words were directed at Jade, who paused her rabble rousing on the chair to look over at Weiss. Placing down the fine set of Opera glasses she’d been looking, she turned fully towards the other goblin to make her answer.

Jade harrumphed, tossing back a wave of green hair behind her back. “Some people are too pretty to work. Don’t you know? Haven’t you ever wondered why humans never work?”

“Humans do work,” was Weiss’ simple reply.

“Well, whatever, pretty humans probably don’t,” Jade answered. “They just sit in castles and get things for free.”

Bang!

The heavy door slammed open. The heavy maid on the other side of it hid her curses under her breath… “...told them a million times to fix this door,” she muttered, rubbing her shoulder in a nervous habit. Stopping in her step, she addressed the three goblins in the room, hardly looking in their direction to say: “you three. Go downstairs and help fold the laundry. Clean the manure stall after that, the garner wants it all in the compost pile before it rains.”

She turned to leave before turning, as if suddenly noticing something.

“And, Jade…”

“Yes, Miss Madë?” Jade asked sweetly, hooking her hands at her lower back.

“You can leave working early today. Lord Baumstein’s asking for your presence at dinner tonight.”

An annoyed groan came from Weiss at this.

“Oh? Is that going to be in the evening?”

“Aye the usual time.” the maid answered simply.

Jade leapt up onto her toes in a short hop. “Then, I can keep working until then! I’m sure the staff is busy!”

Another, pained groan from Weiss.

“Suit yourself,” the maid turned to leave, mind already on other things.

The heavy door slammed shut with a creak and more curses about the maintenance staff.

A short silence followed as every goblin in the room counted the retreating footsteps on the other side. It was after the fifteenth one that Weiss felt bold enough to speak again:

“Clean stables before it rains-” she mimed in a mockery of the maid’s northern accent. “Why do we always have to do the cleaning!” She scrubbed down the bedframe with increasing ferocity.

“Because humans tell us to,” came Scarlet’s usual answer, and normally – her depressed voice marked the end of Weiss’s grumbling and all friendly conversations.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

This day, however, Weiss said something that Jade had been too busy staring into mirrors to think of.

“Well.. why do we have to do what Humans tell us all the time?”

The question was rhetorical, and Scarlet didn’t bother answering it, for every goblin with some sense knew the answer to that.

For Jade, however, it was the inquiry of her lifetime.

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Family dinners were held in a small, private room besides Lord Baumsteins study.

The room was decorated lavishly with extravagant layers upon layers of rugs and velvet hangings, all of which contributed to keeping a warm atmosphere in the dining room even as the first flutters of snow sprinkled down outside the window.

Lord Baumstein rarely had the opportunity to attend such family gatherings, so it was treated like a special occasion whenever he did.

This being a rural palace, candle-light was still the way of things, and setting up the hundred prong chandelier was a painstaking effort. The staff only bothered when Lord Baumstein made an appearance.

And Lord Baumstein had quite an appearance, his dark handle-bar mustache shining as he gingerly lifted a spoonful of soup up to his handsome face.

Lady Baumstein sat on the opposite end. She had a professional appearance as always, though an attentive eye could tell she’d been drinking more than usual lately.

The window-side of the table was – as tradition –- reserved for family, and the two daughters took it for themselves, each one sitting next to a parent, and leaving a whole row of empty chairs between them… an embarrassing deficiency for a noble family.

The elder daughter Iara sat by her father, emulating the upright posture and prim airs of her mother. Unlike most 11 year olds who made the attempt at looking grown up, Iara seemed to fit naturally in her own skin.

Lunette sat by her mother, giggling whenever the Lady Baumstein took a moment to pick her cheeks clean of debris. Unlike her older sister, the girl hid none of her childish charm as she looked up at the chandelier with amazement, and even Iara, despite her valiant effort at maturity, couldn’t help glancing up at the silver kaleidoscope of light.

Unlike the two girls, Jade was truly unimpressed by the light show. Only invited to dinner on the days it was lit, she had no mind to think of its lighting – or Lord Baumstein's presence – with any special degree of reverence.

Still… the light was dazzling. It filled the room, revealing everything to a greater degree than usual.

It revealed, for instance, the high quality stitching that made up Iara and Lunette’s dresses. In this light, even an amateur could see the gulf that stood between their fabrics and the common cloths of the house servants on the other side.

So, how easy it was for Ela Baumstein – a Lady trained in all manner of etiquette and societal fineries – to detect that Jade’s new dress was of noble fashion, and could only have been purchased with a noble’s salary, and in fact could only have been commissioned from her seamstress in Buch city!

Her blue eyes flew up, and a sharp glance cut across the dining table to her husband.

Lord Hasse did not respond, eyes downcast onto his food as he broke some bread over his bowl.

Lady Ela puffed up like an adder, and poisonous look came into her eyes.

“Jade,” she spoke the name as if spitting out something distasteful.

Jade sat up immediately, cheeks puffed as she quickly swallowed the lion’s portion of food she’d stuffed into her mouth. Coughing lightly, she answered: “Yes, Lady Ela?”, with her signature, super-sweet smile that never failed to work on anyone!

“Don’t call me that,” Lady Ela answered acridly. “A servants place is clear. You’re to address me as Lady Baumstein.”

Well… almost anyone.

Technically, the Lady was correct, but this had been the first time she’d made a point of it. Still, Jade only maintained her usual smile: “of course… Lady Baumstein.”

“Better,” Lady Ela said, not sounding it. “Go down stairs and help the rest of your kin clean out the stables. I’m sure they’re having trouble.”

“Of course, Lady Baumstein,” Jade stood up, leveled a polite curtsey in the lady’s direction, and made to leave.

Jade kept a polite and upbeat posture at this despite all the delicious food she was leaving behind, for experience had taught her that Lord Baumstein would come to her rescue in three, two, one-

“Jade. I order you to stay and finish dinner with the rest of the staff.” A deep voice came from the opposite end of the table.

Jade turned from where she’d been about to turn the door handle. “Of course, Lord Baumstein,” she answered with another polite curtsey and returned to her seat.

“Please, call me Lord Verz,” the man answered, a mocking twist to his lips as he looked up at Lady Ela.

Lady Ela merely returned her attention to her meal, and the staff continued to eat in silence.

Little Lunette broke the silence and started a conversation with her sister. It was about horse racing and Jade followed the lead of the other servants by not joining in.

The Lord and Lady of the household, as usual, had an unspoken conversation that everyone seemed to shrink from.

Eventually, however, life slowly came back to the dinner table and some murmurs of small talk began to liven up the servant’s side as well.

As usual, Jade was excluded from these conversations. She didn’t mind this; adult conversations bored her, and she was much too busy enjoying the food to care.

Still, as the hours dragged on and her belly filled, Jade found herself more restless than usual.

Normally, sitting with a full belly was enough to make her content ignoring the chit-chat that flew over her head to the taller figures above.

Tonight, however, the thought rang insidiously in Jade's head: “why do goblins have to do whatever humans tell them.”

For once, one of Weiss’s inane ramblings had dug hooks into her mind, and it repeated itself inside her head.

Jade didn’t have much thoughts about this, beyond being thankful that she was serving humans and not orcs. Scarlett had been bought from an Orc tribe, and the slash across her face that was her namesake told more stories than the goblin herself was willing to.

More than that, she was working for nice humans! She was probably the luckiest goblin in the whole world. She got nice dresses, was invited to dinner, and didn’t even have to do any work!

Jade was different from the other goblins, she knew. She was taller, had a prettier face, and Lord Verz treated her nicely! He’d been the one to pay for her dress, and he was always the one that invited her to dinner.

He treated Jade’s mom nicely too! Every once in a while, he had the servants bring her mother flowers and candy and other gifts, too! Jade really liked the candy, and would sneak some of the chocolates away whenever mom wasn’t looking.

Lady Ela, on the other hand, was meaner to her than anyone else!

It was really, really weird to her. Why would Lady Ela be so mean when her husband was being so nice?

The thought and worry only lasted a moment before disappearing.

Jade, for the most part, was unbothered by these peculiarities. She simply was thankful for the good things in life and handled the bad, and right now the best thing in life was the roast that had been plopped right in front of her.

Jade abandoned her inquiry as soon as she saw the cut of meat, picking up a knife and fork with hammer grips as she sent a beaming look over at the dish

For, Jade wasn’t one to dwell on thoughts. Thinking bored her, and the wider context of the world – why the goblins had to do as they were told, why orcs were worse than humans, why she was treated so differently from the other goblins – they were but idle thoughts that she never developed the perspective to appreciate.

At least, until her next mouthful.

The roast on the fork was delicious, but not particularly special when compared to the rest of the meal. Still… it was a flavor that would remain with her for a lifetime, for the roast suddenly tasted different – it developed a hundred subtle notes of flavor that just weren’t there before.

No, that wasn’t it. The flavors were there all along, but she just wasn’t noticing them.

This was a small difference, however, when compared against the metric ton of context that crashed into her mind suddenly.

And Jade, in response to this shock and pain... wasn’t screaming.

That was strange. Screaming was her most common habit when something surprising or scary happened, followed closely by running.

Jade sat up a little straighter in her chair, mindful not to over-do the change in posture, careful not to arouse suspicion.

Again… that was weird, too. Jade never thought about her actions, or about how she might be perceived.

‘Perceived…’ Jade scrunched an eyebrow. She never used that word before.

Looking around the table, she could see the Lady Ela glaring over at her.

Her step sisters, tuckered out after such a long night, tried not to slouch as they watched the clock, and her father sat at the head, looking as regal as ever as he sawed away at his cut of meat.

And… that was the strangest thing. Why had it taken her this long to realize that Lord Baumstein was her father? It was so obvious in hindsight!

Why was it obvious now, though?

And the answer to that.. It didn’t come rushing in. Rather, Jade simply remembered what she already knew.

Jade remembered the past twenty two years of her life… another oddity considering she was only nine years old. Still, those twenty two years of memories were real and Jade remembered them like they were her own because they were, and she remembered the last day which took her here like it was yesterday.

Jade… no, Claudia Steel, pointed sharp eyes down at her hands.

Green skin.

She looked all around herself, at the fineries and decorations that filled the room to the brim in what she knew to be the gaudy sense of nobles with more money than sense.

And, she cast a quick glance over at the Lady of the house.

Lady Ela was a woman hard to read. A socialite at heart, she’d mastered the art of seeming and presentation.

Claudia Steel… Jade… whatever her name was, now, was a far more talented scout of image, however, and looking now at the Lady Ela, and at the memories collated in this little, green head, Jade understood instinctively that the Lady Baumstein was planning to kill her.