The Fall of a Baron

Monsieur Chevalier was one of the king's favorite knights, having saved His Majesty's life once in battle. The two of them became friends. In fact, they were so close that the king arranged Chevalier's marriage to a wealthy baroness.

One day, my father, who was a servant to the baroness because his family had served various nobles for three generations, announced that there was terrible news: The baroness had given birth to a daughter.

"What's so terrible about that?" I asked.

"The child was supposed to be a servant to the king himself," my father answered. "A girl simply will not do. The king is going to be very angry about this."

"But why?"

"You'll understand when you're older, Lumière," he assured me.

I sighed. Sometimes it seemed that was the only phrase adults knew how to say to children my age.

Chevalier was so disappointed in his wife that he sent her to the convent. He married another woman, but she also failed to give him a son. Many other members of aristocracy mocked Chevalier behind his back, losing no opportunity to remark, "The baron's wife is a barren wife."

He could find no excuse to send her away, but Chevalier was unhappy. Although he had never before touched vin, he began drinking far too much of it. Many nights he paced the corridors until morning.

One day he received news he had apparently been dreading to hear for quite some time: The queen had given birth, and this was a healthy prince. The king would be visiting Baron Chevalier's castle to take what had been promised as a first birthday gift for the royal son.

"Where is your child?!" King Antoine demanded. "Where is my son's new servant?!"

"Here she is, Your Majesty." Chevalier bowed. "May I present my lovely daughter…"

"A daughter?!" The king trembled with rage. "You promised me a son! I raised you in status and wealth, treating you as one of my most trusted friends, and this is how you repay me?!"

"Perhaps she could serve Your Majesty by…"

"Let the wolves have her!"

I couldn't believe it. The poor girl, only a few years younger than myself, was to be taken to the forest and abandoned! No doubt that by morning, she would be dead, torn to pieces by wolves. Even if the wolves weren't interested in assisting with her execution, she could always starve to death.

She fell to her knees, sobbing and begging for mercy, but the king was in no mood to listen. As soon as he had beheaded her father before her eyes, he took her into the forest and left her there.

(It wasn't until years later that I found out that she had found her way through the woods to a different castle and was adopted as a sister to the new prince's cousin, Lisette.)

"I am sickened!" the king shouted. "Chevalier was one of my closest friends, yet he has betrayed me! He was to have his own son to serve mine, yet where is the prince's new servant?! I certainly can't spare any of my own!" He seized a boy about my age. "You'll do!"

A few years later, I was picking berries in the forest near the castle where Chevalier had formerly been baron. I felt as if my heart would explode when I heard a rustle in the bushes, for I was sure a wolf was about to leap out from behind the nearest tree and pull me down by the throat. I was relieved to see the boy who had recently become the king's servant.

"What are you doing here?!" I demanded.

"The king's guards are chasing me," he explained. "I don't know what to do. They'll kill me if they find out I ran away!"

"Why did you leave?"

"I can't stand the king, or even the young prince! I thought if I ran away, I could make it to a village where no one knows who I am, and I could be hired as an apprentice and learn a trade. Even if I die penniless in the street, I would die free!"

"Our hair is nearly the same color," I remarked. "Give me your tabard, and I will go to the royal castle in your place. You will be free to continue trying to escape."

"You are a true friend, Lumière," he replied gratefully.

(Neither of us knew at the time that he would eventually become a duke after living for nearly two decades as a peasant.)

The king's guards brusquely escorted me to the royal castle.

"You are not the servant who ran away!" Queen Chantal exclaimed.

"Never mind!" interrupted the king. "One is as good as the other! But if he wishes to take the place of the first servant, he will take his punishment as well! Let him exchange jobs with the prince's whipping boy for a fortnight!"

I don't know what kind of a genius came up with the idea of such a job, but it certainly wasn't anyone who worked for Prince Adam! The idea of a whipping boy is that he and the prince become close friends, and when the prince misbehaves, he sees his friend receive some sort of punishment, and that breaks his heart to the point where he is highly unlikely to repeat the behavior. With Prince Adam, it was merely a convenience. He enjoyed the fact that he could do whatever he wanted and allow someone else to take the blame and suffer the consequences. I felt very sorry for the prince's whipping boy, even though he was several years older than Prince Adam.

His name was Cogsworth.