A wrought iron gate stood nestled among the hedges, behind which a stone wall protected a vine-covered chateau. Orioles flew overhead and perched on the willows which flanked the path leading up the steps and entrance of the villa’s main estate. Trails broke off to either side as they meandered through gardens dotted with flowers, benches, bird baths and ponds.

Early springtime in Oakenhaven was warmer and more forgiving than that in Grimros; Jessa had nearly forgotten as much after spending weeks away from home. The sweetness of lilacs welcomed her back as the dampness of the lake air crinkled her hair.

She approached the grand wooden doors, where bronze knockers in the form of barn owls stared down at her with their wings spread proudly. The eyes seemed to follow her as the doors swung open and a portly, elderly man with thin, graying hair greeted her.

“Miss Bisset,” He droned as he gave a slow bow. On either side of him stood two young wood elf maids. They appeared to be identical twins, with eyes that were thick pools of honey. Silver and white robes hung loosely against their lithe bodies, complete with scalloped collars and aprons. The one to the left emanated a blithesome radiance. Her tender smile warmed Jessa’s spirit.

To the right, the other seemed dour in comparison at first glance, but a more attentive look revealed that her narrow lips rested without tension. Polished silver bells chimed from ribbons in their braided red hair as they curtsied in greeting, reflecting sunlight streaming in from the windows which flanked the open doorway.

“Hello, Gilles,” Jessa greeted the butler. She gave a curious look to the two maids as they and Gilles relieved her of her belongings. The three led her through the foyer, silent except for the echoing taps of footsteps and a gentle jingling. Curiosity yet unsated, she thought to ask more about the two. “I didn’t know Father was planning on hiring new maids. What are your names?”

“Wouldn’t you like to—” An elbow to the ribs interrupted the stony Fenvar, forcing a sharp exhale.

“Please don’t mind my sister, Miss Bisset,” said the cheerful one, her smile unwavering even as she invoked discipline. “This is Mirelle. We’ve never worked as house staff before, so she may not be so inclined to understand manners, but I do promise she cleans well. I’m Aveline.”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you both. Are you from Sheannore?” Jessa asked, noting their Nelthrin names and presuming them to be from the only place the two races were known to mingle.

“No, silly,” Aveline said, following with laughter rather than elaboration. “Let’s get you to your room. You must be tired after traveling for so long.”

Jessa’s stomach turned with unease as they led her upstairs. The journey had indeed left her exhausted, and she had neither hoped nor expected to meet anyone new immediately upon her arrival.

Loose specks of dust stirred in the air, revealed in the sunlight which streamed in through the bedroom window. Gilles placed her bag on the vanity dresser to await unpacking. The two Fenvar gave a polite bow in unison before Aveline announced their departure.

“It was lovely meeting you, Miss Bisset. Please do call for us should you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Jessa said, giving a halfhearted smile as they scurried away. Exhausted, she sat on her bed, which let out a small squeak in protest as she threw her entire weight down. Gilles intended to leave along with the twins, but as he reached the door, she called out to him.

“Excuse me, Gilles?” The old butler stopped mid-step and turned around to face her.

“What can I do for you, Miss Bisset?”

“Well, I know I never ask this, but when is dinner? If I have time for a nap, I would like to take one.” Gilles chuckled to himself, dropping the air of formality that had enveloped him.

“In a few hours. Was there anything you were looking for in particular?” Jessa shook her head.

“No, thank you, that sounds lovely. Don’t trouble yourself over me, I’m the one making unexpected visits.” She closed her eyes as she lay back onto her bed, and the thick eiderdown fluffed up around her. Thanks to the meticulous work of Gilles, not a single cobweb loomed in the corners despite the room being abandoned for over a month. She smiled, feeling content with being home after her long trip.

“It’s good to see you again, Gilles,” she said as she turned her gaze to him. Before he left, he gave her a warm and friendly smile.

“It is good to see you too, Jessa.”

After a nap, a bath, and some time in front of the mirror, Jessa was dressed up and ready for dinner. Rosemary and butter livened the air with their fragrance as she descended the stairs. A contented sigh escaped her rouged lips as she walked down the halls lined with famous works of art and collections of well-polished, ornate armor. A veritable bounty greeted her around the last corner.

On the table, which provided enough space to seat ten individuals on each of the two long sides, a variety of dishes welcomed every palate. From baked apples which had been plucked from the villa’s orchard earlier in the day, to honey glazed artichokes wrapped in pancetta, and a roasted quail stuffed with pears, carrots and celery, nothing was amiss.

The chateau’s staff stood at the edges of the room as they waited for Jessa to take her seat beside the head of the table. Once she had settled into the carved walnut chair, they took plates from the center and served her. Jessa gave them a quizzical glance and turned to Gilles.

“Is Father not eating with us?” she asked, the natural flush of her cheeks overtaking her makeup.

“Your father is away in Wyvern’s Rest, I’m afraid. The city has had a growing concern with vampirism, and he was asked to lend his hand in taking care of the issue,” he said with his usual formal overtone. Jessa frowned, disappointed.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Oh.” Her stomach sunk with the realization that she’d gotten dressed up for nothing. “Do you know when he’ll be back? There were a few things I wanted to discuss with him.”

“He did not say how long he would be away, Miss Bisset. Apologies, I should have informed you earlier about your father’s whereabouts, but I assumed you would have already known. Forgive me.” Gilles bowed deep as he wiped his reddened nose with a handkerchief from his breast pocket.

Jessa sighed and slumped back in her seat, pursing her lips in thought as she stared at the mountainous plate of food in front of her.

“Don’t worry, it was a simple mistake. Do you know where he’s staying?” she asked Gilles before reaching out to pick up her fork.

“A new property in the city. A small cottage at the shore where he’s been undertaking some development plans as of late.”

Cutting into a quail breast, Jessa gave the thought some consideration.

“I should go see him tomorrow, then. The University can wait another day. Either way, I would appreciate written directions, when you have the time of course.” She lifted her fork to her mouth but then paused as another thought struck her.

“Oh, and um, Gilles, it’s okay to drop the formalities when Father isn’t around. I…” She thinned her lips as she gathered up the courage to finish her thought. “Truly, I can’t stand it. That goes for the rest of the staff as well, no one needs to stiffen their backs and shine their buttons just for me.”

“Miss Bisset, your father has rules—”

“Of course,” She sighed as she took a bite of quail. There was a pause as she washed the morsel of food down with some apple wine. “But Father isn’t here. So, since I’m given authority in his absence...”

She looked at Gilles, unsure if she was stepping over lines she shouldn’t be crossing, but in a moment of bravery she cared not for anyone’s approval. “I rule that unless serving guests, all formalities should be dropped.” Gilles looked down at her with an approving nod, a glint of pride in his narrowing eyes.

“Very well. If that is your rule, then please allow me to join you at the table,” he bowed, but then caught himself with a chuckle. “Excuse me, old habits will be hard to snuff out.”

“Please do!” Jessa said, holding back a delighted squeal. The remaining staff members, more than a dozen heads, stared wide-eyed at the old hand as he sat next to her with his own clean plate and served himself.

“In case none of you heard Miss Biss–Jessa’s orders, you all may have a seat and join us,” said Gilles. None did so. No one, that is, until a young Nelthrin boy tentatively took a few steps forward, his rosy cheeks contrasting against his glossy black hair as both shimmered in the light of the setting sun. He took a plate from a stack behind him, then sat beside Gilles and heaped food onto it.

A murmur rippled among the others. They looked to one another seeking reassurance and nudging the braver of their numbers closer to the stack of dishes. This wave of uncertainty undulated until they all formed a single-file line to acquire plates and silverware. Quiet and confused, they seated themselves at the table one by one.

“You may speak amongst each other as well,” said Jessa. Stricken shy by her own boldness, she shrunk back and softened her tone. “Well, you don’t have to, but please don’t feel as though you can’t.”

Time passed, and with it the tension in the air evaporated. Whispers turned to murmurs, murmurs turned into idle questions, and those into conversations. One man broke through the polite buzz with a honk of laughter. With his mouth covered, he looked over at Jessa, but his embarrassment was soon assuaged by her calm, warm smile. He laughed once more, and the entire table joined in.

Jessa sighed in contentment and sat back in her chair, chewing on another piece of quail breast. She stared out the ceiling-high windows which lined the wall and watched the sun vanish behind the pine-covered mountains in the west, taking with it its reflection on the lake. Long had it been since she last felt content under her father’s roof, under his rules.

Once she'd returned to her room, Jessa flopped backwards onto her bed with a sigh of relief. She had eaten enough that her dress grew snug, and she was glad to have finally changed into a sleeping gown after quite some time without any opportunity to indulge in such comforts. Just as she settled in, however, a knock echoed from the door.

“Come in,” She said, recognizing the pattern of the knocks. Gilles, with his jowls drooping, entered into the room carrying a thin cast iron pot filled with warm coals from a fire between two cloth-covered hands.

“For your bed. There’s supposed to be a strong chill tonight according to the forecast from the university,” he said as he waited by the door, closing it behind him. Hopping up from her bed, Jessa nodded in approval.

“Thank you.” Given her consent, Gilles approached her bed and, after setting the lid in its place, lifted the mattress and sandwiched the pot underneath. He smoothed the sheets and duvet, spreading the fabric taut and tucking it in.

“You have grown so much, Jessa. So much,” he said, facing her as he stood up. Face sagging with a sudden somberness, he averted his eyes. “I remember when you had to have me speak for you, such a shy young girl. Now look at you, subverting your father’s rules.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead, which had beaded with sweat.

Jessa blushed slightly. The two had always spoken informally in private, but it was rare for the old butler to wear his heart on his sleeve.

“What’s this about so suddenly?” She asked, puzzled as she offered him a seat beside her. “This isn’t like you.” Gilles sighed.

“Perhaps I’m just getting old,” he said, his voice strained while he sat himself down. “Things have changed quite a bit since you started at the university. When it truly dawned on me that it had been a month since you were last home, it reminded me how your life thus far has gone by in the blink of an eye. For me, of course. It probably feels like forever to you.”

“Yes, it does,” Jessa affirmed. “Like I’ve already been alive for a century.” Gilles chuckled.

“Yes, getting to know the world is a grueling process. Believe me when I say those are the best years. Before you know it, you’ll have all the time in the world slipping out of your grasp.”

“Gilles, is everything alright?”

“Of course,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Don’t you worry. When you get to be my age, you’ll spend a lot of time thinking as well.” His smile grew with a sigh which seemed to carry certitude. Jessa nodded; She understood but couldn’t quite comprehend.

“That is concerning, considering most of my time is already spent thinking,” she said. The old man chuckled again.

“Not quite the message I meant to convey, Jessa,” he chided. “I will leave you to get some rest.”

Jessa yawned, affirming his statement with a nod. His eyebrows twitched upward as though he’d just remembered something.

“Speaking of getting old, it keeps slipping my mind to mention—I will be readying my things throughout the day tomorrow before I head out to visit with some family in Brinas for the next few weeks. It’s about time I paid my Aunt Marguerite a visit, as I may not have another chance.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Gilles. I wasn’t aware of your aunt’s condition.” Jessa frowned.

“It’s been on the horizon for years now. I only pray that I make it there in time.” He sniffed and brought his handkerchief to his nose to wipe it.

“You’ve never spoken much of your family before,” Jessa said after a short pause.

“There’s not much to speak of, truth be told. Most are simple farmers, many are drunkards, and the others, well… They’re not quite as fun as the farmers and drunkards. They lead simple lives, but they enjoy them the best they can.”

“I see,” Jessa said once more. “Well, if you’re leaving while I’m at Wyvern’s Rest, then I might not see you again before I head back to Grimros. I’ve enjoyed catching up with you at least this much, though.”

“Likewise.” Gilles’ smile returned. He gave the bed a firm pat before standing up, slow and wobbly as age had gnawed away at his joints. “I will let you get some rest now. If you’re heading back to the University, please do give Elyza my regards.”

“Oh,” Jessa said, her cheeks flushing. “Of course.”

“Goodnight, Jessa."

“Goodnight, Gilles.”