I sat upright in my chair, still chewing on the last bite of toast, when Mother folded her napkin and gave me that gentle, queenly smile of hers—the kind that usually came with important news.
"I thought it was the right time," she said, voice smooth as always, "to assign you your own personal maid. You're older now, and I'll be traveling more often."
I blinked, glancing at Ines, who stood silently beside me like a marble statue dressed in black and white linen. She hadn't moved since the announcement.
"You're leaving?" I asked, my voice coming out smaller than I liked. "Where?"
She reached out, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead. "Not forever, Alvaro. But Feville is your father's domain. I've been here all this time because raising you was my priority. Now that you're growing up... I have to return to my own county."
I stared. "Your own...?"
"Alencia," she said with a light laugh. "It's easy to forget, isn't it? Your mother is a countess too."
That part caught my attention.
Apparently, I'd been raised this whole time in Feville County, part of Vallajoz Duchy, one of ten duchies in the Catastille Kingdom. The world, in many ways, mirrored the Europe I remembered—but flipped. North was warm, south cold. Mountains lay where I expected oceans, and deserts turned to forests. Feville was a hilly land, rocky and unsuited for farming, but it held stone mines of great value—one of the reasons Father was always tied up in business with builders, masons, and the mining guilds.
Mother's domain, Alencia, lay far north, beyond the ridge-spine of the kingdom. A coastal land with its own port city, Alencia was a hub for trade with the northern continent, where dark-skinned merchant ships from across the equator docked with spices, dyes, and silks. I had never seen it.
"I want you to stay here for now," Mother continued, "where it's safe. Ines will take care of you when I'm away."
Father stood then, brushing down his coat. "And I must be off to the mines by noon," he said, kissing my forehead and nodding to Ines. "You're in good hands."
Just like that, they left—Father to work, Mother to prepare for her journey.
And I was left with Ines.
It was strange being alone with her.
She didn't speak unless spoken to. Her steps made no sound. She followed me at a precise distance—never too far, never too close. When I turned, she stopped. When I walked, she followed. Like a shadow that bowed..
Her voice was light but clipped. Polished. Like someone who'd practiced every word until it was perfect.
"Dont call me 'young master', just 'Alvaro' is fine," I said, turning my head.
"I've been instructed to address you formally."
She was maybe around 10 years of age, though it was hard to say. Because of her age is closer ti mine compared to other servant, I want her to treat me more like a friend more than a master she serves. Her ebony hair was neatly tied behind her back, and her eyes—silver like polished glass—never drifted from me for long. She looked more like a doll than a girl. A very pretty doll, mind you. One carved from winter.
I tried again.
"What do you like to do?"
"I am here to assist you with whatever you like to do, young master."
I sighed. "That's not what I asked."
She hesitated. That pause was interesting.
Finally, she said, "I like reading. And embroidery."
Reading. Well, that made two of us.
"Then let's go to the library," I said, walking a bit faster. "I want to learn about Feville. And Alencia too."
"Yes, young master."
Still with the "young master," but at least she followed.
The library was a warm place, walled with dark wood and tall windows that poured in golden light. Shelves stacked to the ceiling made it feel like a cathedral of paper. I led us to a reading nook near the window seat, and Ines was already lighting the little oil lamp before I even sat down.
"Efficient," I muttered.
"I try," she said simply.
I pulled a map from the shelf first. A huge one—nearly my size when unrolled. The ink was faded but neat, with the Catastille Kingdom sketched in beautiful, curling script. The duchies were painted in soft watercolors, and I found our home marked in a slate-grey sprawl across the lower middle. Vallajoz Duchy, with Feville County nestled between several others like a jagged puzzle piece.
"Why is the south colder?" I asked out loud, tracing a finger over the mountain range that bordered the bottom.
"The northern sun burns stronger," Ines said, standing beside me. "It's something about the sky. I don't remember the details."
"You're supposed to be perfect," I teased, glancing up.
She looked startled.
"I'm not perfect," she said quietly.
But she kind of was. Every ribbon was tied exactly. Her hands moved with such care. Even now, she adjusted the edge of the map so it wouldn't crinkle.
"What's Alencia like?" I asked, switching gears.
She leaned slightly, eyes scanning the parchment.
"Alencia is warmer than here. The sea breeze makes it mild year-round. The city has tall white buildings, and the roofs are painted red. Ships come and go all day. There's a market near the port that sells fruit from across the sea. Lemons the size of your fist."
"You've been there?"
She paused. "No."
"You speak like you have."
"I read."
I smirked. Okay. So maybe she wasn't all glass and gears.
I pulled another book from the shelf—one about the duchies of Catastille. Together, we flipped through it, fingers brushing pages as thick as bark. I read aloud while she stood beside me, correcting my pronunciation once or twice. Normally, I would've bristled at that, but she did it so precisely it felt more like a guidepost than a scolding.
"I didn't even know there were ten duchies," I admitted.
"It's easy to forget things when they don't concern you yet," she said.
Yet. Huh.
We spent hours in that little nook, the sun tracing golden lines across the windowpanes as it climbed and slid back down. Occasionally, I'd glance at her, wondering what her life had been like before this. Why she was here. Who trained her. But her expression never changed—not when I asked questions, not when I cracked jokes.
Not even when my stomach growled.
"It's almost dinner," she said, like clockwork. "Shall I accompany you to the dining room?"
"Not yet," I said, stretching out across the cushioned seat. "One more thing."
She tilted her head.
"Sit," I said. "Next to me."
She stiffened. "That's—"
"Just for a minute."
I don't know what I expected—maybe a refusal. But she sat, back straight, hands on her lap.
I nudged her shoulder gently. "You don't have to be a statue, you know."
"I wasn't trained to be anything else."
We sat in silence for a moment. The map was still spread before us. The sun had dipped lower now, casting amber streaks through the glass.
"If I ever visit Alencia," I said, "you'll come with me, right?"
She turned her head. "If you command it."
I scowled. "That's not what I meant."
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then, very quietly, she said, "Yes, Alvaro. I'd like that."
My name, without a title.
It was barely above a whisper, but it made me smile.