Drocell Keinz had once been an ordinary citizen in London, England; that is up until when he was 16; his town had been pillaged, the women raped, children put into labour, and all the remaining people skewered by the invaders blades. He had worked as a child labourer for a year before he managed to escape-where the lovely lady Mandalay, found him in an alley, knees tucked into his chest in an attempt to quiet his gnawing hunger and irrevocably traumatic moment when he watched his parents die. Lady Mandalay, having a good soul, and in need of an extra servant at her home, took him with her, where he was sworn to a life of a butler.
When they arrived at her home, they were greeted by the servants-whom all stared at the small, shrivelled, pale mess of a man (?) in front of them. The most prim of the servants stepped forward, showing not a single speck of dirt on a snow white chef outfit. "And what is this, madame?" He asked, eyeing Drocell head to toe.
"This is a refugee from a child slave labour camp. Feed him, bathe him, clothe him, and train him-in that order. He will be our new butler."
The lot in front of the dirty, small boy turned their noses up, as though they had smelled a decaying body. "And it's name?"
Drocell acted as if he hadn't heard the word chosen to describe him. "Drocell Keinz." His voice cracked, for he hadn't spoken for a year, he'd decided a life of muteness was better than being beaten.
"At least we know it's a he," a small maid whispered to the chef.
Drocell felt his cheeks flush a flaming bright red, and he lowered his head in shame. A small, hour glassed figured girl stepped out in front of all the servants. "What's the crowd-" the girl stopped in front of him. "And just who are you?" She asked in a small, curious tone.
"Drocell, ma'am." He looked up to see a dark haired girl, with piercing blue eyes in front of him. Her skin was fair and flawless. She was frail, beautiful, and flawless enough to be an actress, and she had a porcelain fragility to her. She appeared not too much unlike a doll-a puppet-just as he was.
The girl walked up closer to him. "That's a nice name; I like it. What does it mean?" She gently touches his arm, causing him to flinch, not experiencing touches so gentle since his parent's deaths. "Oh, my; I'm sorry...did I hurt you?" the girl looks genuinely worried as she retreats her hand.
Drocell cautiously reaches for her. "Excuse me ma'am; I'm being rude. I haven't been touched in that fashion for over a year...my apologies; please forgive me."
As if on cue, the girl sees scars from whips, as well as bruises and recent wounds. She gently takes his hand, turning to the others. "Vince...go cook for him...Suzanne...go prepare his clothes and room..." She pauses in thought for a moment. "Actually, he'll share with me, until he is fully recovered and comfortable here." She leads him up the stairs to the large, white house that was obviously owned by important people. "I'll take care of you, until you're better...I won't let my mother train you as our butler yet...you aren't ready for it yet."
Drocell stopped unintentionally. Of course she was the Mandalay's daughter...he should have known by her clothing alone...and the tone she used with the servants... "I won't have it, miss. You are no maid-I'll survive, even by taking care of myself."
The girl smiles. "I want to help you, these servants are rude anyway." She gently tugs his arm. "Come now, we have to bather you." She looks back at him. "Does my hand bother you?" She lifts her eyes to his blush.
Am I so obvious? "No, miss. I am to do as told-if this is what you want, I must obide." Not that I dislike it... "Please, may we go to the bathroom? I don't wish to offend...not in such a presence..." I may be able to care of myself, but that's not what I want...As though to clear his mind of his thoughts, he shakes his head with a small smile. "I can take care of myself, miss."
She pouts. "Don't call me that. No one does, except in front of mother."
He stands in shock. "Then what am I to call you?"
"My name is Amaya; it's nice to meet you, Drocell."
He bows. "The pleasure is mine."
