Sometimes it felt as if the mansion was full of people. He danced and dined with them, he small talked with them and laughed at their jokes. Then that one time there was a ball. It was his ball. His were all the guests at the ball.

As the host he could chose whom he would show his grace to as everybody gathered around him and the unfortunate one he didn't deem worthy was pointed by him and laughed at by everyone. His were the guests to play with and eventually dispose of in any way he found suitable.

But this time everything was diferrent. And this time they all seemed less real too.

A boy his age, accompanied by his own butler was standing in the foyer.

The minutes tuned into hours, hours into days, days into years. It seemed to him that it's been an eternity as he sat by the window staring out in the sky. A storm was coming.

He sometimes sensed a presence around him. Whith the pressure in his head growing high and his breathing becoming shorter and shorter he would sit at his desk and wait for it to come. It always eventually appeared. He would smile and follow its movements from the corner of his eye. Waiting, he would sit rigidly with his head high up, just as he imagined all little lords to sit at their lordly tables. And when it came he would still sit motionlessly, ignore it for just a moment smiling inwardly and following its movements from the corner of his eye until he got bored. His butler was standing behind him.

'Claude!'

Playing cat's cradle with a string of thread Alois announces to Claude:

„I want a ball. I want dances and fancy dishes."

The string is hanging loose between his fingers now.

„I want a dress"

He saw a pretty dress like this once. A little girl once came to their town, the governor's daughter. A butler held her hand as she carefully descended the steps of the carriage, her dress a translucent cacade of taffeta in the color of magenta pinched here and there with golden cequins. He liked it. But he also liked how the mud splattered all over it, covering the expensive cloth and the girl's golden locks with dirt when he threw it at her.

The townspeople were enraged. They called him an elfish child. Laughing to the top of his lungs escaping the jaws of rabid dogs he ran into the forest, to climbing trees, hiding from the villagers' anger. He never understood their fear of the woods. To him the deepest woods at midnight felt no more dangerous than the middle of the town's market place at midday.

'Claude!'

Sometimes he didn't respond. The mansion seemed empty, vast and hollow and he was alone.

'Claude, come here! Now!'

At times like this he had to put all his effort into controlling his voice. Anger was the emotion he aimed at conveying with it, but in his own ears his voice sounded so small it almost scared him. Taking deep carefully measured slow breaths, keeping his eyes closed, he would stay like this, trying to wait it out, unable to say for how long, until he was granted the answer.

'Yes, My Highness?'

Upon openig his eyes he would see Claude smile. There would always be a ghost of a patronizing smile on Claude's face as if he couldn't help it but show that he knew, he knew everything. Alois was aware that it wasn't right. It wasn't the kind of expression servants should wear around their masters. But there was a strange air of familiarity about all this and somehow it made him feel at home.

He always smiled back. This was the place he belonged.