The Flower of Serving Men - 5. Chapter 5

It was a few days before Sebastian found Ellis again. Or rather, stumbled upon him. It was a full moon that night, and the garden was bathed in the gentle blue glow of moonlight. He was about to call for him when he heard the soft eulogy sung to the wind. If he were any farther, he would have missed it, but there in the midst of the hedges and the gardens, he heard a voice kept precariously low, singing without words a song racked with something that strung a chord with the very soul. It was here Sebastian was reminded of the reports from Swordsworth. In the stillness of the night, he watched and listened, mesmerized how a man could have such a lovely voice and could sing with such sorrow without a single intelligible word.

Sebastian left when he felt the song near its end. He crossed the courtyard and was heading down the hall when he noticed Ser Malcolm Hawthorne leave the library. "Ah, Ser Hawthorne, you're not usually around these parts this late."

Malcolm returned the greeting with a smile. The man was exceptionally handsome despite his age and wear, a fact Sebastian thanked as well as cursed every now and then. "Seneschal, a pleasure to see you here. I was just deciding which books to borrow to help me pass the time." Sebastian glanced at the titles of the hardbound tomes and noted some of the titles, knowing them for some of the more modest studies to the smaller clans on the borders of the kingdom. "Old records. There are some things I want to refresh."

"Any reason why border relations?"

"I'm planning to visit some folk over on the borders, see how things are to what we know."

"You could easily send knights there yourself, can't you?"

"True, but there's a personal matter I'd wish to deal with."

"Care to talk about what that is?"

Malcolm sighed as he considered this. The man was reluctant, which made Sebastian curious if not suspicious. "I suppose there is no point keeping this a secret from you, though I'd rather I settle this myself. I worry about an extension of the family. She's been difficult to the rest of the clan. Practically renounced us from what I've heard. I'm trying to see the customs and what applies."

"Certainly, the customs must not differ so much from here."

"No, but there are festivities nearing, and being on the border, the views are rather different. I'd rather be prepared."

"Well, there's no telling the dissonance from then and now, either. I think you'll be as out of depth there with what those books offer as without." And Sebastian knew he had a point. he knew how far those books dated back. Maybe the old man did not realize that simple fact. "If customs are really as strange as they are there, then I can have a small group of soldiers and scholars accompany you, discreetly even as to alleviate suspicion."

"I hardly think it necessary, Seneschal."

"We might as well see how things are in the town. Gain insight. Think of it as tagging along for an errand."

Malcolm pondered over this. "I'll concede to that, then."

"Good."

"Ah, where were you coming from, by the way?"

"Me? From the gardens, actually."

"Was... there is this servant that strikes me as odd. He was there earlier."

"Ah, you mean William?"

"Is that his name?"

"Yes."

"So, he's the boy?" Sebastian gave him a stern look, enough of an answer in itself. "I'll take that as a yes."

"So you passed by him?"

"Since yesterday, actually. Some of the servants were making some ruckus about a ghost singing along the gardens. None of them dared to look, apparently."

"They'd rather listen to mere hearsay than investigate," Sebastian muttered. "Well, that can't be helped at times. Wish they'd consider how easy it was to check, anyways."

"Though I'm happy that they haven't bothered the lad," Malcolm argued. "If the boy knew he was being watched, he would no doubt flee. Shame as that would be."

"Like a songbird, then? Free and uncaged?"

"Precisely," Malcolm nodded. "Let the boy be. Even if we did not know his grief, his song sings as much to us."

"Do you know what he's singing, though?"

"I'm afraid I do not."

"He must be singing in tongues, then." Sebastian glanced briefly over the books again. "When do you plan to leave?"

"After maybe a week or two, once I've had things settled here. I'll leave someone to my tasks and will be gone for at most three weeks."

"I bet you planned on telling me and Brandt three days before your departure again," Sebastian chided. "I'll let the King know and tell me if you need help finding a replacement instructor for the squires. We'll assign someone to the task instead. And we'll expect updates."

"Of course, Seneschal." Malcolm took his leave, smiling wider as Sebastian called after him, reminding him about his name.

Ellis was immersed in his work, arranging silverware and folding napkins on the table, even as he listened to the gossip amongst his fellow servants. He listened more intently when they mentioned the King. Last night, he had the chance to unwind with some singing, and he felt more relaxed for the day, as early his start was.

"I heard he's been keeping a young servant to his bedroom as of late."

"Do you think it's an affair?"

"What kind of affair is it when there's no one to cheat on?!"

"That's not true; it's still all very hush-hush."

Ellis rolled his eyes and let them bicker further.

"Well, I would think it's all rather romantic. Who could it be, you think?"

"Whoever she is must be a lucky whore. You've seen the man with his finery on. Imagine what's it like in just his breeches." The two squealed and giggled as the image painted itself into their minds. Ellis was more intimate with the image than he'd like to admit. "Oh, the things I would let that man do to me."

"Or what you'd do to him! I know you for being a nasty little wench. DOn't think I didn't find that book of yours, you dirty little harlot!"

"I'm not the one who visits the horses every night!"

"Ugh, you take that back!"

"Ladies," Ellis interrupted, no doubt shocking them about the fact he was still there. "I appreciate your sentiments but we need to get this work done before the visitors arrive. It wouldn't do for us to be tardy."

Just then, the doors to the dining room were whisked open, and the King strode in, his presence choking out nervous greetings from his servants. Ellis was no exception there. However, what was exceptional was how the King waltzed his way, grinning. "William, I see you're stuck with dinner duty."

Ellis no doubt felt the stares of his associates. "Well, yes, Sire. The guests will be here soon and there is much to arrange."

"Well, I need you for something. So, you'll be coming with me."

"Pardon?"

Brandt grinned, boyish and mischievous, as he grabbed Ellis' hand and dragged him away. Ellis looked back to see his fellow servants gawking at them. Well, there goes the gossip. It'd be the talk of the castle tonight.

"What task must I tend to, Your Grace?"

"I need you to join me in deciding my finery for tonight."

"Surely, there are people more suited for that," Ellis argued.

"No, but I want to please you."

"If you want to please me, you'd be stark naked." The words left his mouth before he could block them. They stopped as Ellis slapped a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, I--"

But Brandt's eyes were dark, glazed over, watching him with a hunger that seeped into his skin. He leaned close, whispering to his ear, "I could entertain you, my love. Slowly, if you'd prefer." He rubbed circles over his hands, sliding them to his waist. "Or maybe you would prefer to unravel me, like a present? I would gladly give myself to you."

"Oh Lord!" Ellis and Brandt jumped away from each other at the sound of the voice. A servant girl was watching them, scandalized, before she fled. They stared after her, before a giggle surfaced from Ellis. Brandt wasn't far behind, smiling ruefully as he considered how intimate the display was. And no doubt he'd be hearing talk later. Ellis devolved into a fit of laughter, leaning against him as he thought of how absurd the moment was, quick and energized but so easily fragile, gone in mere seconds.

Brandt held him for a while, enjoying the moment. When Ellis pulled away, he was a little red, but his smile was between mirth and exasperation. "Will you help me choose my clothes, then?"

Ellis mulled it over. "No."

"Please?"

"Sebastian will have my head."

"It's a royal decree."

"Now you're just being childish."

"How can I sway you, then?"

"Get a professional to be with us, then. I doubt my tastes appeal to the high nobles here."

Brandt rolled his eyes. He wanted their moment to be... private. "We're wasting time, here."

"Then you'll have to go on without me," Ellis offered, and he was sauntering away when Brandt took his hand again.

"Fine. We'll get someone."

"Brother, you are an imbecile of the highest order," the Crown Princess muttered, sifting through the wardrobe while her personal assistant gawked. "You do not need a chaperone to fuck your servants. I swear to the Almighty Father and our father that you are the most incompetent man I--"

"Actually, I implored him," Ellis offered.

In many ways, the Crown Princess Linda Evangelista Aurelian was much like here brother. They had the same shade of hair, and the same sort of skin, but she was more pampered but easily the louder of the two. Ellis hadn't heard much about her except that her decorum depended on who she favored. "You implored him? You must have a lot of sway."

"I'm just a fleeting fancy," Ellis argued. He watched as her face became a glare directed at her brother. "Let us be honest here; I doubt I can so easily win a King's affections."

"Too late," she muttered, clear enough for everyone's benefit. She picked out a tight-looking finery and a very extravagant cape. "You're lucky father kept himself fit, brother. A lot of these fit you just fine."

"Thank you, Sister."

"Now strip."

Her personal assistant and Ellis sputtered. They sputtered louder when the said King did strip, and the personal assistant looked away. Ellis watched on, seeing all those sinews and musculature revealed in one swoop of the shirt. His mouth was dry, even as he watched such a tight, bulbous derrière wiggled in front of his face.

This was bloody intentional.

When the King whipped his trousers down, revealing tight breeches, Ellis hurled a pillow, spot on the arse. Brandt looked over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows while Ellis flipped him off. Linda had been watching them and was carefully stoic about it all. "Are you two done flirting?"

Ellis straightened, even as Brandt bellowed a laugh and pulled on the finery. he looked... good. Very good. The clothes hugged him just right and there was that charming grin he'd flash visitors. A different sort of smile was aimed Ellis' way, however. Quiet, soft, genuine. "We're done for now, Sister."

"Good." She went over and poked Ellis on the head. "You're not so smart denying him. He won't stop until he's eaten you alive." Before Ellis could ask, she left the room, her assistant in tow. Her presence had left them wrecked, as if a storm blown over their heads.

Ellis turned to his King. "What next, Brandt?"

"Ah, you used my name at last!"

"Shall I note this as a fetish?"

"Your voice is my fetish."

Ellis grimaced at that. "That was terrible, even for you."