After their brief talk in the garden, Klen followed Fole back inside. The evening sun cast long shadows through the tall windows, and the hallways were quiet except for the soft rustle of servants finishing their day's work.
"This way," Fole said as he walked with steady, confident steps. "I'll show you around a bit more. It's best you memorize these halls quickly; I won't always be there to guide you."
Klen nodded silently, his small feet padding over the polished floors. They revisited a few of the places they'd seen earlier—grand sitting rooms with plush chairs, the wide dining hall where servants were setting the table, and the indoor training room lined with racks of weapons and practice dummies. Fole explained things patiently as they walked, pointing out the layout, the servants' quarters, and which doors were off-limits.
"This mansion isn't just a home," Fole said calmly, glancing down at Klen. "It's a symbol of the Morin family's standing. Everything here must be maintained, respected, and cared for. Your work here is not just service to Lady Lyra—it is service to the house itself."
Klen listened quietly, nodding. The mansion felt huge and overwhelming, but Fole's clear instructions gave it structure.
Later, they paused near Lyra's wing of the house. "Your primary duties are to assist Lady Lyra," Fole explained. "You'll wake her each morning, help her prepare for the day, and attend to her needs. You're not a butler yet, but consider this an apprenticeship of sorts. Observe carefully, learn quickly."
Klen straightened a little, his gray eyes flicking to Fole. "…I'll try my best."
"That's all I ask," Fole said with a faint smile. "Now get some rest. Tomorrow will be your first real day."
Morning came early for Klen.
His eyes opened before the sun fully rose, a habit carved deep from months in the slave trader's cages. For a moment, he was disoriented, half-expecting to see the rough stone walls of the market cell. Instead, soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, and a small, clean room greeted him. The bed beneath him was warm, the air smelled faintly of polished wood, and for the first time in a long time, he'd slept without fear.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. Right… this is the mansion.
Klen moved with quiet purpose, remembering Fole's instructions. He dressed neatly in the servant's uniform that had been folded on his chair the night before, then locked his door behind him, the key cool in his palm. The hallways were still and calm at this hour, the polished floors reflecting faint dawn light.
He made his way toward the kitchen, following the path Fole had shown him. The smell of fresh bread and sizzling meat greeted him before he entered. Several chefs were already hard at work, their movements efficient, and knives clattering softly on cutting boards. A few caretakers moved about, gathering trays and plates for the family's breakfast.
Klen hesitated by the doorway. He wasn't used to places like this, where people bustled without harsh words or chains rattling. One of the older kitchen staff glanced at him and smiled warmly. "You're the new one, aren't you? Come along, grab a bite before work starts."
He nodded shyly and accepted a simple plate of eggs and bread. Sitting quietly in the corner, he ate quickly, grateful for the meal but still feeling out of place.
Once finished, he cleaned his plate, gave a small bow of thanks to the staff, and headed toward Lyra's room.
He stopped at her door, taking a steady breath. This was part of his duty now. He raised his hand and knocked softly.
"Milady?" he called, his voice quiet but clear.
There was no answer at first, so he knocked again. "Milady, its morning."
He waited, then gently opened the door. Lyra was curled under her blanket, her hair a soft golden mess around her face. She stirred at the sound of his voice.
"Mm… who's there?" she mumbled sleepily.
Klen hesitated but stepped closer. "It's me… Klen. I came to wake you."
Her eyes opened slightly, and she blinked at him before remembering. "Oh, right… I forgot I have an attendant now," she said, smiling faintly.
"Fole told me to help you get ready," Klen said carefully, repeating what he had been taught.
Lyra pushed herself up with a small groan. "Alright… help me with the curtains first."
Klen nodded, moving quickly to pull the curtains open, letting in soft morning light. Together, they went through her morning routine—he fetched her brush, helped arrange her dress, and tidied her study desk while she prepared herself for breakfast.
The day passed with steady tasks.
Klen followed Lyra throughout her morning studies, helping fetch books, ink, and supplies. At breakfast, he stood nearby, ready to assist as she ate with her father. Though the older man rarely spoke, Klen felt the weight of his sharp blue eyes watching him closely.
After breakfast came more lessons. Lyra seemed patient with Klen, sometimes giving him small smiles when he moved quickly to help her. "You're getting the hang of this," she said once, her tone playful.
By noon, Fole called for him.
"You've done well today," the butler said, his expression calm as always. "Now, come with me."
He led Klen to one of the training rooms where padded mats lined the floor. A rack of wooden practice swords leaned against the wall.
"I will be teaching you basic magic and combat techniques," Fole said, rolling up his sleeves. "You'll be expected to protect Lady Lyra if danger ever arises. Even if it never does, you should be prepared."
Klen's eyes widened slightly. "Magic…? I've never…"
"I expected as much," Fole said evenly. "We'll start with the basics tomorrow. For today, watch and listen."
Fole demonstrated simple stances and movements, explaining things calmly and thoroughly. He showed Klen the basics of defensive footwork and a few exercises for strength and agility. Though Klen was small and thin, Fole's encouragement was steady.
"You have quick reflexes," the butler observed after Klen mimicked a few moves. "That will be useful."
Klen gave a small nod, feeling both exhausted and strangely motivated.
By nightfall, Klen's first day had ended.
He followed Lyra's evening routine, helping her change into her sleepwear and tidying her room before she climbed into bed.
"Thank you, Klen," she said softly, her voice drowsy. "You're doing a good job."
He paused at the door and nodded. "Goodnight, Milady."
After closing her door, he finally returned to his own small room. The house was quiet now, and the moonlight streamed through the window, casting silver shadows on the floor. He changed out of his uniform and into his simple sleepwear—a plain shirt and trousers—and sat on the bed for a moment, thinking back on the day.
It was strange, having work that didn't involve fear or pain. Strange, to be surrounded by people who weren't cruel?
Is this… what life is supposed to be like? He thought.
His eyes grew heavy, and before long, Klen lay down and drifted into sleep, ready to face another day in this new life.