The Northern Fortress was well-known as another castle of the Nohrian royal family. Nobody ever had reason to approach it, as it was out deep in the woods, and was not often occupied by the royal family. The staff lived and worked there year-round, and it was guarded all that time.

At the time, King Garon would sometimes occupy the castle with his son and heir, Prince Xander, and his younger siblings Princess Camilla and Prince Leo. The staff would all dote upon them, especially one named Gunter, when it was rumored that he had lost his wife and child to a village attack long ago. He cared for any children that came through as if they were his own.

So it was no surprise that Gunter practically adopted the young child that had ended up on their doorstep. Nobody could be seen in the surrounding area when a maid screamed out and two knights came running down to see what was the matter.

The child stood at the door to the kitchens. He was turned back, completely covered in mud as a carriage rode off through the forest, rapidly leaving the castle grounds. Two guards stormed out on horseback in an attempt to catch the people.

Gunter ran down into the kitchens, having heard the screaming and saw the boy, eyes hollow and his cheek bleeding. He instantly pulled the boy inside, barking orders around to get towels and a seat by the fire, clean water! The boy did not speak, merely let himself be guided by the older man with ease. Eventually, they cleaned him up, and Gunter put him to his bed for the night.

"What is your name, boy?"

"…Jakob Morcant."

Gunter's eyebrows rose. He knew the Morcant family; but had no idea that they'd ever had a son.

"They're handing me off to this castle to be a servant." And with that, the boy fell silent again, turning to face the wall while Gunter eased back in his chair, musing on the Morcant family and why they had abandoned their son at the Northern Fortress.

And then it hit him, square in the chest. This child had been left here and there was no way of giving him back to their family. They had no idea where they were, or who they were. The guards had not been able to catch up to the carriage in the rain, but now he knew they were the Morcants. Who did not want him and would, most likely, not take him back. This child was completely alone. And Gunter was not going to stand for that. Not when he was thinking of his own wife and child, who had been lost when Garon attacked it after he refused to not submit to his whims.

"Jakob… what will we do with you?"

How did I end up here?

Jakob always knew the answer to his question when he asked it. He had ended up at this castle because he was left there one night by someone. His parents rode down in their carriage, not even acknowledging his presence despite the fact they had ordered him to come along. And now, they were responsible for his current place of residence: at this castle, deep in the forest, far away from anywhere notable in Nohr.

The world was full of orphans. That's just how it is. He was just lucky to be here—

Thwack!

"Ouch!" Jakob cried out, while holding the back of his head and curling his lip at the offending person – a maid holding a large wooden spoon.

"Do you expect those towels to leap out of the cabinet and rub the princess' feet themselves?!" she huffed, and Jakob shoved a hand to grab a fistful of beautifully folded towels, dropping them into the maid's arms as he left the area, seeing the reason he was getting towels sitting by the garden door. Dirt completely coated her feet, and she was staring off into space, swinging them back and forth without a care.

Jakob felt his stomach turn. How could a crown princess ever handle being so dirty? He chalked it up to the three year age difference; she was only three years younger, yet was getting the chance to be a child.

No matter, he wasn't going to bother getting attached. He wasn't going to be here long enough, anyway. Being a servant in a castle like this had to bring about connections to better work where nobody hated him.

Speaking of hate, the maid from earlier shoved him aside, causing him to nearly fall over as he easily lost his balance. That always happened, no matter how often Gunter stressed that he needed to focus on it. He had absolutely no sense of balance, which he was oft reminded of by the cook when she said he "not only had two left feet, but was dropped on his head multiple times as a child." He hadn't been, thank you very much. The servants he once had made sure of that fact.

Pushing the thought from his mind as he stood straight, he saw the maid kneel before the princess and clean her feet off with the towels while chastising her about the state of them and saying that she could no longer go out and play in the dirt.

Huffing, Jakob turned and left the room, walking down a massive corridor to go find the library once again. There had been a book he was eyeing, and he was determined to get it this time without a member of staff interrupting him.

But the pitter-patter of feet came up further down the corridor, and he turned to see the young princess running up to him. Instantly, he turned back around and began walking faster, in an attempt to get away before she tackled him to the ground or something ridiculous that children always seemed to have a tendency to do when they were trying to stop an older person.

However, she didn't do anything, instead coming up and gently pulling on his sleeve. Out of breath, she gave a smile, and Jakob didn't bother returning it, instead asking, "Is there something you need?"

She smiled a little wider, and said, "Sorry. Leslie was mean. She's like that."

Jakob pulled his arm away, tugging the sleeve out of her small grip and resuming walking. Yes, she was like that.

Just like everyone else in this godforsaken castle.

Back in his quarters, after going through the library and finding the book he wanted, Jakob opened it to begin reading. However, he found himself thinking about how he was going to leave this place. This castle would have to bring merit where he applied. And hopefully by the time he'd found a job, he would have gained a few talents, and leave a better worker for his new place of employment. At least this place gave him a place to call home, despite the emptiness. The only downside was really the staff and the royalty. All of them, complete nuisances. And the thought of his parents kept looming in his mind. They had decided to abandon him, and would never accept him back into their lives.

There was a chance he could learn something from these trials. Life skills, cooking skills, something! But he was constantly told he was clumsy, incapable, and would never amount to anything as the week passed. And it showed. He had dropped dishes, tripped over carpet edges, and failed to properly clean everything. These people had strict ways of doing everything, and he was going to do it well enough to leave this desolate castle. Even if that meant enduring these people for a few more months.

But while weeks dragged by, Jakob had not become any better at balance and at cooking, at cleaning or sewing. People constantly chastised his efforts, and twice, he had almost been smacked upside the head or beaten, but Gunter was always nearby when it happened and managed to pull him away. It took him all his self-control to tell the old man that he could watch out for himself.

One day, someone dropped a bucket and cloth on the floor as he descended the grand stairwell of the foyer, carrying a basket of wash.

"I'll be taking that, Lord Jakob."

Jakob's face scrunched at the sight of this sorry servant, who called him by his title with a sarcastic tone. This boy was of pitiful birth, one of the maid's sons.

"You're going to be cleaning this whole floor. The laundry's got to be hurried down to my mother. Make sure you get every last speck!"

And before Jakob could protest, the boy was gone, basket with him and a floor to be cleaned. …It couldn't be too hard, could it? He rolled his sleeves back a bit more, and knelt down on the floor, starting with the edge of the stairwell.

About an hour later, and he'd made a lot of progress. But at that moment, Gunter decided to descend the stairs.

"You're a very sorry little lad."

"Why do you say that, old man?" Jakob quipped back. He had learned that this person would fight back his arguments, rather than dismiss them in favor of hitting him with the nearest blunt object.

"Did you even look at the floor? And your rag. It was most likely dirty the second you dipped it into the pail for the third time. The floor is covered in streaks. Bubbles are in the cracks—"

"All right, shut up! I am a young child! Look at how bloody massive this floor is!"

Gunter straightened, heaving a great sigh.

"Your temper is something we'll work on another time. Let's go. Wash that rag, find multiple clean ones, empty that bucket, refill it with soap, too. I can't imagine why you're doing this, but I suppose I'll hear about it soon."

Jakob thought to fight back the order and tell him all about the maid's son, but bit his tongue and went to refill the bucket, deciding that for once in his life, a silver-tongued response could wait while he got everything together in an attempt to remedy this awful day.

And then the day got worse.

He was walking down the hall, doing is best to balance the stacks of folded blankets in his arms, and saw the princess and her sister, Lady Camilla, at the end of the hall. Jakob had met the elder princess before. She was the one more prone to giving servants hugs, particularly those who were considered "young" and "handsome". Therefore, she was adored by all the staff. Unlike him.

But today was different. Lady Camilla grabbed the princess' arm, yanking her violently towards her to whisper something into her ear.

Jakob didn't hear it, but he knew they were talking about him. And instantly, he felt insulted. How could the two just go on gossiping about him like that! Right in front of him!

And oh, her majesty, her royal princess. Yes, she too was smiling, but looked a little sad about it. But only she would pity him when someone made jokes towards his person.

Tears came to his eyes. They weren't supposed to be there, and instead of facing the two who were talking about him, Jakob threw the rags to the ground and ran in the other direction, down the stairwell to the ground floor where the servants slept.

Instantly blowing it out of proportion, he chucked the book on his bed at the wall, hitting with a resounding noise that made him feel the slightest bit better.

And the noise that followed was not one he expected to hear.

The door creaked open, and he saw the young lady standing there, a frown on her face. No, not Lady Camilla-

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" he sneered back, knowing that because they were alone, he could freely speak without fear of having his ears boxed for speaking to her in such a manner.

"Because you seemed to get mad that we were talking about you."

"Of course I did. If I called you stupid in front of the staff, you would get offended and cry."

She bit her lip, but Jakob felt satisfied. He was older, physically and mentally. This little girl, only nine years old, had nothing on him.

"Cammy feels bad for you."

Jakob paused, eyes widening as he processed those words. They felt bad for him?

"No you don't."

"Cammy doesn't like how they yell and hurt you. She said that nobody deserves that."

Jakob remained silent, turning around so that he wasn't looking her in the eyes. He wasn't going to grace this pointless conversation with a response.

Only when the door finally clicked shut did he begin to cry. And he cried until the knocking started up again, firmer this time. He knew this sound too well.

"Go away, old man!" He choked on his last words, finding his throat stuck from crying.

"You're got a lot to prove about cleaning floors. You've been here a month and shown absolutely no progress. Get out here right now and find out where you tossed those rags."

Jakob debated staying in the room forever, but when the door handle began to turn, he cried out, "All right, all right! I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Three months. Twenty-one broken dishes! One dented silver and gold platter! Burned food! Awful sewing! Chickens not fed! Eggs cracked! Floors scratched!"

And a boxed ear, Jakob thought to himself, he held in an attempt to make the pain go away. He had worked so hard to improve, so hard to try and be a good servant so that he might learn something. So that the old man might stop yelling and being so frightening. So that he could leave this castle behind…!

"I'll just turn you out now; nobody will be missing you."

Jakob looked at her with utter disgust, but before he could muster up a reply—

"...Excuse me?"

The young voice, clear as a bell, sounded from behind the maid. She turned, and gave Jakob a clear view of the angel's voice.

A little princess, who was now holding out her hand.

"I'm looking for someone to chat with. I want to talk to him." Her finger was directed right at Jakob, who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen where he had been left just a few weeks ago. And here was the ten-year-old princess, requesting his presence.

"No, milady, you don't want him-" The maid attempted to lead her away, but Jakob ran forward, taking her hand and kneeling before her.

"My lady, I will go with you to chat, if that is what you desire. I recall that yesterday, you wanted to talk about your favorite sweets. Let us go where you desire." He pulled her aside and out of the kitchens, right into Gunter, who had just been coming in.

"I see you found him, princess." He smiled, and stepped past them, right up to the maid who had been about to sack Jakob and turn him to the streets.

Jakob heard laughter, and looked down to see the princess was no longer clinging to his arm, but rather, was down the corridor, waving him along.

"Come on, let's go! You said we could talk about my favorite sweets!"

He instantly regretted every time he had looked to her with a scornful look, every moment he had ever disliked her.

In that moment, Jakob swore, he would study day and night, and become a proper servant, one who could cook, clean, sew, and serve. One who could do anything.

For her.