The Nameless Servant

“Are you going to accept Lord Johan’s offer?”

My sister’s question was as blunt as she was. I had barely entered her room to bring her food and medicine when she asked it. There were no greetings or questions—not even questions about what the priest had said about her health. Were it anyone else, I would have assumed there were second intentions behind her insistence. But it was her. She wanted nothing more than my own happiness.

“I would be gone for five years,” I said, as I set down her food, pulled up a nearby chair and sat beside her bed. “By the time I get back, you could…” Be dead. “Be married already, have kids or—something. I couldn’t leave you alone.”

She harrumphed loudly and nodded at the flowers by her bedside table. “Lord Johan has been sending those every week.” When my surprise showed, she smiled triumphantly and added, “You’re not gonna believe this, but he came to visit me personally to ask me to help convince you to accept the job. He took my hands in his, looked me in the eye and promised I would be taken care of while you were gone. You’re really perfect for the job, you know?”

The fact neither of us knew what the job entailed beyond living in the castle and being unable to leave for five years scared me a little, I’ll admit. More than that, however, I found myself saying, “Lord Johan came here? To our house? I—this house is no place for a lord! It’s too small, cramped, damp, it—was it even clean when he came? Was…it…”

My sister rolled her eyes. “It was fine. Lord Johan didn’t mind.” Grinning, she continued. “I don’t know what you did, but you really earned Lord Johan’s favour, you know?”

“I—I wouldn’t say that.” I felt myself blush.

“What are you talking about?” She reached for my hair and touched it gently. “Lord Johan gave you a haircut!” Mixed feelings came over me. I truly hated what my hair looked like now, even if others said the short hair suited me, and even if many people—my sister included—were openly jealous of Lord Johan cutting my hair. Even if I missed my old hair I was still able to acknowledge what great honour it had been for my lord to cut my hair personally, even after I had disrupted his routine.

“Lord Johan is a kind and fair man. He often bestows his generosity upon others.”

My sister grinned at me. “Are you saying he hasn’t been paying more attention to you lately?”

This was true and I couldn’t deny it. For a while I had assumed I had displeased him, but he had shown me otherwise recently. The night he cut my hair, he came back into the castle dripping wet and appearing distraught. I thought to offer him a change of clothes and whatever comfort a mere servant could provide, but our meeting earlier had taught me he valued his solitude greatly. Instead of approaching him, I remained hidden behind a corner and awaited Lord Johan to call for a servant before making my presence known.

A mistake, to be certain.

Maria had found him and approached him immediately. “My lord! I beg your pardon, but you must get changed. Lord Starly has asked to see you, something about finances and the troops mobilized. If you will allow me, I have selected a change of clothes for you. If I may—“

Without a second glance I turned back and made my way to my room, confident my lord was being taken care of. The next morning, I was informed that Maria was given a special assignment and traveled as Lord Starly’s personal maid to some far off land in some important business for the crown. If only I had attended to Lord Johan’s needs then…maybe I would have been the one given that mission. Honourable, to be certain, and profitable, in all likelihood. My sister needed a priest to use [Restoration] on her once a week, and…in any case, I found myself regretting not jumping in on the opportunity to earn his favour.

Yet it was for naught, for my lord remembered me anyhow! “I hope your hairstyle is to your liking, my lady,” he said to me the next morning, smiling. Oh, how he smiled! “If it wouldn’t be out of line for myself to say so, it looks positively beautiful.” For a while afterwards, he appeared pleased to see me. My lord even specifically requested me

“He has shown to like my presence,” I admitted to my sister, hesitantly. “But that doesn’t—doesn’t mean I should accept this job. The terms are that I will be gone in the castle for five years. Five years without seeing you, I—I…”

She took my hands in hers. “We will still be able to write letters to each other. It will be fine. And when you are done, you will have enough gold to retire!”

My sister never mentioned that I would have enough gold to pay for her medical costs, likely because she never thought of it. She could be dead by the time I returned… But Lord Johan had promised to take care of her. And he had come to this humble house personally to ask her blessing to take me away for this job…wouldn’t refusing it be a mortal insult? Surely Lord Johan was no common noble likely to hurt us for the sake of his pride, but it would be terribly rude to refuse such a kind offer.

“Fine,” I said. It didn’t make me happy, but it was the right thing to do. “I will do it. But!” I raised my voice and index finger when my sister opened her mouth to celebrate. “If I do that, then you have to promise me you will listen to the priest’s orders and…and that you’re going to be okay until I come back.”

“I promise! I—of course I promise!”

It was a strange time after that. We stayed up all night together, crying and celebrating at once. There were times we talked about how much we would miss each other, and other times we talked about how we would move into a bigger house together after I finished my five years in the castle, maybe open a bakery together. This sort of melancholic happiness remained the mood for the house for the next few days until the time to leave came.

Our farewell was tearful but hopeful. We exchanged many words of encouragement and promised to write to each other as often as we could. Nonetheless, the time of parting came, and before I knew it I stood at the castle gates I had so often come to. This time, however, I wasn’t going to the same areas as before. I was going to enter the Western Tower, Lord Johan’s personal quarters where only himself, a few select servants and the most important of guests were allowed in. I always wondered what it was like in the inside.

The Western Tower, much like the Eastern Tower, was sealed off from the rest of the castle and indeed much of the outside world. Tall walls kept its massive courtyards isolated from the outside and there was nowhere in the city tall enough to even look at it from above. It could be hiding thousands of secrets in the open-air and none would ever know. The only entrance—as far as I and the other servants knew—was a set of heavy, thick metal double-doors through a narrow corridor from inside the castle.

When the time came for me to go through them fear had given way to excitement. What awaited me beyond those doors?

Lord Johan had come to personally bring me into the Western Tower. He nodded at the heavily armoured guards who usually stayed in front of the entrance and they turned to the side, facing away from the door. . Even they who guarded the tower day and night were not allowed to see what was inside it.

“Are you ready?” Lord Johan asked me, smiling.

I nodded and I took one last glimpse at the outside world before we came through the door. To my disappointment, there was no immediate reveal. Instead, the door led to a small room where Lord Roger—one of Lord Johan’s most trusted men—was waiting for us. He was a large man, with black hair that stopped just before his broad shoulders, wearing a matching black cape and gloves. Too old to be called youthful by most, too young to be considered wise, his appearance was that of someone who had not yet reached his fortieth nameday, but Levelling Spheres meant this was no more than a guess.

“I will leave her introduction to you then, Roger,” Lord Johan said.

“Of course, my lord,” he replied, bowing as Lord Johan made his way into the innermost parts of the tower. I had always respected that about Lord Roger—he was born a noble, but unlike many of them, he showed Lord Johan the respect his awarded rank conferred him. Birthright seemed to matter not for him; he acknowledged my lord as the hero he was.

When he turned to face me, nervousness once again overcame excitement. “Welcome to the Western Tower,” he said kindly. Yet the kindness felt like the kind a farmer uses at the market and this unnerved me. “Are you ready to leave your old life behind?”

When I nodded, he nodded back and said, “Good. Leave your luggage where it is. You will be able to collect it in five years.”

“Five years?” I exclaimed. “My lord, I—I need my luggage to live. All my personal belongings are there. My clothes, books—“

“—Will all be provided by Lord Johan. Nothing from the outside is allowed to come in.” He gestured at a small desk in the corner of the room. Upon closer inspection, I realized there was a set of clothes there of some sort. They looked odd, however. The shirt was softer than I was used to, and the trousers were made of a material I didn’t quite recognize. “My lord?” I asked hesitantly.

“Put those on. Your clothes aren’t allowed in either.”

“But my lord—!”

He held up a hand. “I will leave the room to allow you get changed. We have our rules regarding the outside world’s interference with the Western Tower, but it is no reason to infringe upon your modesty. Will five minutes be enough for you to get changed?”

“I—of course, my lord.”

This frankly surprised me, albeit pleasantly so. I had expected the guard or noble in charge of security to falsify a reason to abuse their authority before allowing me in. Noble as Lord Johan was, surely he couldn’t control the others to this extent. That Lord Roger had been so thoughtful made me feel a lot more calm about coming into the tower. There were good people here.

What’s this? When I was undressing, I noticed something in my front pocket—a locket that I didn’t quite recognize. It was made of bronze, too cheap to belong to any noble, and too expensive to belong to me. Absently, I opened it. When I saw a picture of myself and my sister in it, I was overcome with both fondness and panic at once. Fondness, that my sister had spent her little money to buy this and hid it in my pockets before we left, and panic, that I wouldn’t be allowed to bring this in.

“Are you done?” Lord Roger asked from the outside.

“Not yet!” I replied in a panic. In a hurry, I dressed in my new clothes…and hid the locket underneath them. Lord Roger has shown to be very careful about my modesty so far. I doubt he’d search me…oh my lord, it hurts to betray his trust, but I need…I need this locket. I need to be able to see her face. “I’m ready now, my lord.”

Soon after he came into the room and took me to the next—this one had me gaping open-mouthed at the sheer splendour of it all. It was like one of those beauty temples for noble ladies where high [Skills] were used to heighten their appearance and make them look even more beautiful. I had seen the inside of one of those, briefly, when I was a young attendant in charge of accompanying Princess Nevada.

This room made that room look like a peasant’s.

Such silver, such polished mirrors—men and women of high aesthetic [Skill] standing beside many chairs, as though waiting for someone to arrive and benefit from their talents…even though someone like myself could never partake in those services, just being able to see it with my own two eyes felt like a luxury I didn’t deserve. This is beautiful.

“Do you like it?” Lord Roger asked me.

When I nodded, unable to speak, he smiled and said, “Take a seat.”

“M—my lord?” I couldn’t keep my eyes from beaming. “Are you—are you—do you mean it?”

“Yes,” he replied kindly. “Take a seat. We will work on you while discussing your new job.”

It wasn’t a prank. When I saw down, Lord Roger himself used his masterful [Skills] to take care of my makeup and make me feel relaxed. Never before or after in my life did I ever feel that calm, so thankful to be alive.

“Lord Johan lost his friends before arriving in this country. It’s a tragic thing, it really is…the pain he felt is unimaginable.”

I gaped in shock. “I would never have known. Lord Johan acts so…above it all. I would never have thought tragedy touched him.”

Lord Rogers nodded as he worked with my hair and used his [Skills] to even out my skin tone. “Tragedy has touched him more than most…and it’s our job in this tower to try to lessen his pain, if only a little.” He paused. “This job is much like acting. Here, you will learn about Lord Johan’s old life to the best of your ability and play the part of his friends. Act as if they weren’t dead, sometimes. It…lessens the pain, you understand?”

I understood but I refused it. From the first, my immediate thought was whether I wouldn’t have been tempted to do the same if my sister died. No. That would feel too…macabre. Almost a mockery of her death. I could never do that. I understand grief leads people to do strange things but I…I could never.

“Do you find it strange that Lord Johan wants people to act as his old friends?” Lord Roger asked.

“No, my lord,” I replied quickly.

“It’s alright if you do. Expected, even.” Lord Roger was adjusting my hair, and suddenly he grabbed a fistful of it and pulled me closer to him, so that my ear was close to his mouth. “But never say it aloud. Not once. Do not demonstrate it either. Be an actress. That is what you are being paid for. “

“I—I don’t think that this is strange, I—”

“Then you’re insane,” he said plainly. “It is odd. But Lord Johan is paying you handsomely to act as if it isn’t and to never tell a soul about this. You will learn how to act like his old friends and you will never act as though this job is anything but normal, even away from your instructors. Should you be heard expressing such opinions, termination will follow.”

“I…of course, my lord.”

“And if you hear anyone in the actors’ dorms talking or indicating in any way that they perceive Lord Johan’s request as anything but normal, you are to immediately report it to me. You will be rewarded for it and the offender will be removed.”

I thought this was an exaggeration. A sort of joke, somehow. Maybe this acting business wasn’t as serious as he had made it seem. But my very first night in the dorms showed otherwise.

“Okay, I know we aren’t supposed to say anything,” said one of the girls, “but isn’t this whole job kind of…creepy?”

Like myself, she had just entered the Western Tower today. The other girls in the dorm had been in the job for longer. Some had even been trained enough to interact with Lord Johan while in character. We had just met and I felt as though we weren’t going to get very close—there was this weird distance between us all and we weren’t allowed to use our real names there. We could only call each other by the role we had been assigned—which frankly got confusing at times.

“It is not nice to refer to Johan’s request like that,” said one of the older girls. “He just asked us for one simple thing…he’s always covering for us. What kind of friends would we be if we couldn’t follow onesimple request he’s making?”

“Friends?” The first girl sounded incredulous.” Johan? Not Lord Johan? Are you…my lord, you’re still…he’s not around! None of the instructors are either! We can just be ourselves here!”

When I saw the rest of the girls look away from her, I did the same. I felt trouble brewing and I wanted no part in it. I may have shared some of her feelings, but I would never dare to say anything aloud that could compromise the job. My sister needed the money I was earning to live.

“Are you serious?” The girl’s frustration grew with every word. “Our name is not Katherine. C’mon, what are your real names? I’m—“

The next morning, she was gone. It was as if she had never been there. I don’t know which of the girls reported her, when she was removed from the premises or what happened to her. All I knew was that she was gone. I can’t let that happen to me.

There was something about that atmosphere that sucked me as time passed. There was no contact with the outside world—my letters to my sister were read before being sent out for security reasons and I answered them mechanically, almost as if I was watching someone else write them—and as it turns out, not discussing something out loud often makes you forget it exists. Sure, we all knew deep in our hearts that this was weird but because we all acted as though it was normal, at a certain point I started being offended when new girls came in and acted as if they wanted to make fun of it.

“Read your scripts carefully,” said the teacher one day. “This is the pool scene. After a hard-fought victory, Lord Johan and Lord Carr enjoy a moment of friendship before falling into the pool together. Katherines, Jacks and Claras show up shortly thereafter. You understand?”

We all nodded. At some point this had become routine for myself. No one had been able to act out the pool scene yet in its full capacity. We had plenty of competent Jacks, Claras and—of course—Katherines but we lacked Carrs. For some reason, Lord Johan had never attempted at training one. Perhaps because the real one was still alive? It was such a problem. We couldn’t act out any of the scenes that involved a Carr because of that.

Still, less than a week into the job, I was called to have a brief conversation with Lord Johan. There was a room in the Western Tower redecorated to look like the old living room in his old country, and though it took me a while to get used to the architecture, I felt myself slowly grow accustomed to both it and the odd clothes he made us wear.

“Johan!” I greeted him. “How are you feeling?” I walked up behind him and rubbed his shoulders.

The setting was simple: it was the year before they joined an institution named college. Both Katherine and Johan had taken a year between the two due to financial reasons. To think that Lord Johan suffered from the same issues I do…no wonder he’s so kind. Lord Johan had just won a fencing tournament and came back with a moderate amount of money he earned from it, but he had been injured in the process. “You really should…be more careful. Your ankle could have gotten a lot worse.”

Lord Johan looked at me and shrugged. There was an innocent, younger quality to the way he talked now. He was a better actor than me. “It’s just what I have to do. It’s better that I was injured, honestly. I managed to make some small side bets…the tournament’s prize money came from everyone’s entry fees. It wasn’t much, but between it and the side bets I should have enough to cover the next two months of rent.” Even the prize money for men’s épée shouldn’t have been enough to do so. However, according to the script he had also won the prize for men’s foil and men’s sabre, as well as the team variant, where he filled in for people.

I touched his long, beautiful blond hair and started to curl it around my finger. “You should have entered the women’s events as well. No one would have noticed.”

“I considered it,” Johan replied, laughing. “But then you would have beaten me, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t even joke about that,” I said. “You know I can’t beat you. No one can.”

“That’s not true.” With a smirk, he pulled me onto the couch with him and wrapped his arms around me. We laughed at how clunky the gesture was, and looked at each other. “I missed you, Katherine,” Johan said quietly. This wasn’t in the script.

“LORD JOHAN!” This new voice came so suddenly that I almost fell from the couch in shock. A man—or woman?—missing an arm and bleeding heavily showed up. “I—I couldn’t kill Princess Nevada! Lord Carr has her! I…I came to report as soon as I could. My wound kept reopening. It took me two weeks to get back.”

“Carr? You saw Carr?” Johan asked, his face blank. He stood up so quickly that I, who had half draped my arms over him, fell to the side. “Where is he? Is he alright? Can he be captured? Is that fiend with the rapier with him?”

“Oh, he’s fine alright,” the injured servant grunted. “We fought a duel. I lost.”

“Of course you did,” Johan replied, voice full of pride. “Carr is the worst matchup for you to begin with.”

Another grunt. “Don’t I know it. I thought I had it won when I hit him with「He Who Whispers」but—”

Johan rushed up to the bleeding man and grabbed him by the neck, a manic smile on his face. “You used 「He Who Whispers」on him? You managed to land a hit?”

“W—well, he grabbed my blade and…it was enough to trigger it. I’m sorry, Lord Johan, should I not have…”

“No, you fool, this is perfect! You will be rewarded with anything you want.” There was a strange combination of innocence on his face now. His gestures, mannerisms, tone, they all spoke ‘Lord Johan.’ Yet that younger type of innocence, that carefree smile, it reminded me of the smiles he showed me when we were acting out his past. He turned to me and said, in a commanding, but genuinely happy tone, “Call Roger! I need him right now!”