Author's Notes
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I had a rather awful day so this chapter is rather awful as well. But I wanted to write anyway because in doing so I have succeeded in writing a chapter a day of something for a full week. I do not know if I will be able to keep this up much longer but I am still glad to have met this tiny goal.
Thank you, as always, for reading.
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The Fall of Adam:
Mispl(a)ced
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The manor, Ludwig quickly discovered, was a victim of multiple personalities.
If you missed a turn you could find yourself either in the most lavish ballroom ever designed or a room so Spartan hospital corridors looked garish in comparison.
Kirkland had been leading him through the back hallways of the manor for what felt like an eon, and Ludwig was doing his best to both keep up and memorize where everything was as Kirkland spoke.
"And off to the right is the staircase that leads down to the kitchens and one flight lower to the coal and furnace rooms. I would not recommend going there, it is not a part of your job description and will most likely only depress you. To the right is the set of doors that leads to the serving area behind the dining room. Again as a valet your presence there will most likely not be required unless the kitchen and wait staff need you to fetch something last minute."
"Yes, sir," Ludwig said quietly, listening to the cheerful banter floating up from the kitchen below, the smell of fruit and baked goods making his stomach rumble loudly. He flushed and pressed a hand over his stomach, but Kirkland either hadn't heard or was too polite to mention it. Given the man's attitude Ludwig highly doubted he would have let the noise go without at least some sort of abrasive comment.
Kirkland turned a corner and headed up a flight of stairs, stopping at last in front of a door.
"This will be your room. As a valet you are entitled to a private one, so I suggest you make full use of it. It is a privilege allotted to only a few, so I would also suggest you be wary of inner-house schemes that may try and take it from you."
Ludwig took a step into the room, his eyes widening. It was a sizeable space, but more than that, it was sparkling clean. The rich wood molding around the window was polished to a mirror surface. The smell of the linens – clean soap freshly cut grasses – was delicately wafted by the breeze that blew aside the pale lace curtains. Ludwig cast a questioning glance at Mr. Kirkland, who nodded and gestured for him to come inside.
"You will find several suits in the closet, courtesy of Lord Horschhorn," Kirkland said, gesturing towards the small door against the east wall. "Please make use of them on work days. Mrs. Peeters and I expect you to conform to the house dress codes at all times. I have taken the liberty of providing you with a list of your duties and of the rules you are to obey during your employment here. It would be well advised that you spend the rest of the day reading and memorizing them. I will be quizzing you at five P.M. sharp, and as I must attend to the earl at exactly six o'clock, if I need to remind you of too many things you may rest assured that I will be exceedingly irritated and likely to amend your contract. Understood?"
Ludwig nodded and said, "Yes sir." It was becoming a reflex. He would probably say 'yes sir' to the barkeep at the pub and be laughed out of town if he ever ventured beyond the manor walls again.
Kirkland raised an eyebrow but then said evenly, "At least you seem capable of taking orders. You meet the minimum requirement for a valet." He paused for a moment. "…One more thing I may not have stressed in your booklet on the desk there. The position of valet is one of dignity and is the second highest honor in this house. Second only to my own position. It is my duty to see to it that you uphold the tradition of stateliness we have here, and any error on your part will inevitably reflect ten times stronger on myself. I do not enjoy looking a fool, Mr. Schmidt, and it would behoove you to keep any and all errors to a minimum. The staff will be watching you closely, and several of them are more than a little resentful of your employment, particularly considering you have no experience as a valet or even as a footman. Lord Horschhorn is taking a great risk hiring you. See to it that his kindness and trust are not misplaced."
Ludwig nearly found himself saluting, but he still stood to attention as Kirkland spoke.
"It won't be, sir. I promise."
"Very good," Kirkland said, what little passion that had edged its way into his voice rapidly disappearing. "Get changed and study the lists. And please do not go wandering the halls. Several of the staff and house have not been informed of your employment, and the sight of a stranger brazenly traipsing about may send some of the weaker hearted into a fright."
Kirkland left after that, closing the door smartly behind him. Ludwig slowly sat down on the bed, his hand absently stroking the linens. They were soft. Incredibly soft and he was so tired…
He cast a glance at the lists on the desk before mentally calculating how long he could rest before he would need to wake up and study.
He fell asleep mid calculation, too exhausted to so much as stir when his head hit the pillows.
When he awoke the sun was much higher in the sky, and Ludwig immediately pushed himself out of bed with the frantic energy of the overslept. A quick glance at the clock informed him that it was one in the afternoon. He still had time.
After quickly changing into one of the neat suits hanging in the closet, he sat down at the desk and tugged the lists towards him. His stomach sank when he realized how thick they both were, but he did his best to clear the fog from his eyes and began reading. He may have accepted the position in a moment of insanity brought on by severe sleep deprivation, but that did not mean he was incapable of following through.
The first list detailed the expectations of a valet, and it was every bit as horrifyingly meticulous as Ludwig had feared. His main task, it seemed, was to be at the young lord's beck and call for everything related to wardrobe, schedule, and transportation. In painfully neat script in one of the margins Kirkland had written, "And above all do not question his wishes unless they explicitly go against the laws of God or country. We've had incidents in the past."
Ludwig ran a hand over his face and sat back, his stomach churning unpleasantly. Before he had been a servant in name only. They had been free to set their own pace in the fields, knowing that if they did not bring in enough harvest they would be the first to starve. Here it felt as though there were iron bands encircling his wrists, and bars on the windows casting shadows over his face. Exhaustion was an easy companion of melodrama, he knew, but still he felt uneasy.
He set the list of valet duties aside and picked up the one on house rules. It was much more straightforward and less ominous. The servants ate before the members of the house, got up before them, and went to bed after them. It didn't seem entirely fair, but hopefully the young lord had a strict bedtime and Ludwig would be able to sleep roughly the number of hours he was accustomed. The rest of the rules involved mostly common sense. No servants were allowed in the family's private quarters unless they were attending to a specific task at the explicit request of said family member. Guests were to be treated with the utmost courtesy, and rudeness, insubordination, and disheveled appearances were not tolerated. Theft or espionage was grounds for immediate termination and involvement of the law force, as were… dalliances.
Whatever those were.
Ludwig finally straightened up, his back cracking painfully after being hunched over for so long. He had difficulty reading at a distance, and while normally this did not pose much of an issue, reading Kirkland's tiny handwriting had forced him to hold his nose practically against the papers for hours on end.
The clock chimed four, and Ludwig went to go have a kip on the bed, his eyes and head needing rest. He doubted Kirkland would actually quiz him on the rules. He seemed more the type to enjoy springing them on someone with no notice…
Ludwig was startled out of his doze by a heavy rapping on his door, and he quickly stood to answer it, fixing his hair as he walked.
Kirkland stood on the other side, his expression schooled as always. He stepped inside the room and glanced at Ludwig's slightly rumpled bed.
"Enjoying a mid-afternoon nap?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Goodness I wasn't aware you possessed the ability to study in your sleep. How wonderfully talented of you."
Ludwig bit back his sleepy irritation and said politely, "I believe I am adequately prepared, sir."
Kirkland raised an eyebrow but then took another step forward, effectively trapping Ludwig in the room.
Before Ludwig could gather his wits the butler began asking him question after question, hardly giving him time to respond before asking the next. Questions about his duties as a valet, house rules, even on the residence of the manor (which Ludwig barely managed to answer, having never met the other male cousin of the earl's son).
It was close to half past five by the time Kirkland closed his mouth with an audible snap, but the calculating look never left his eyes.
"You pass," he said finally, clasping his hands behind his back. "But barely. Your language, Mr. Schmidt, when you are aroused and flustered, betrays your coarse origins. Your propensity to dismiss titles and do away with the necessary formalities needs to be reigned in immediately if you wish to last more than a week at this estate. I do not have the authority to dismiss you but I can ensure your transition here be a great deal more unpleasant. But as you have passed muster, I will have your trunk brought up to your room following dinner. The family will be sitting down to their meal in approximately an hour and a half. You have until then to procure your own food and make your way to Lord Gilbert's room to help him prepare."
Ludwig nodded, still standing at attention, the habit helping him stay focused.
With one last glance, Kirkland turned on his heel and left Ludwig to his own devices.
Ludwig stared at the beautifully carved door for a long while before realizing he had forgotten to ask where the young lord's room was.
He cursed softly as he sat down on the bed again, growing more and more positive with each slightly panicked breath that he was going to be dismissed before he had even lasted a day, much less a week. Kirkland's little booklet had been extremely helpful in detailing certain aspects of helping his charge into the more complicated suits, but some of the terminology had gone straight over Ludwig's head without diagrams to help him. And that was only the tip of the iceberg in terms of problems with his current condition.
The clock struck quarter 'til, and Ludwig finally forced himself to leave the relative safety of his room. He passed no one on his way down the hall towards the stairs, save for a girl who looked like a scullery maid. She barely spared him a glance, her eyes fixed on the contents of the bucket she was carrying. Ludwig nearly got turned around, but the smell of bread and roasting meat saved him. He carefully picked his way down the slightly rickety steps, brushing past several other members of the staff who gave him small smiles and distrusting looks and every other expression in between. According to Kirkland's book, the manor employed a staff of twenty two, not counting gardeners and part time workers. Ludwig felt like he must have passed all twenty two of them on the way down to the kitchen and succeeded only in getting in the way of every last one of them.
He finally cleared the last of the stairs and made his way into the kitchen, taking a moment to observe the actions of the only other man in the room – a gardener, most likely, from the soil clinging to his boots – and then mimicked him. He took a small loaf of bread and a plate and quickly sat down to begin eating. As he chewed the bread he studied the small dining area that was relegated for staff use. The farthest wall was full of little hooks with bells on them, each one carefully labeled. It didn't take him long to find the bell for 'Master Gilbert's room, and was unsurprised to see that it had been cut, no doubt a task done outside of the watchful eyes of Mr. Kirkland.
There was also a clock on the wall that soon chimed the hour, and Ludwig quickly polished off his bread and cast one last look at the oak server. There were cuts of meat and greens there as well, but through a window built into the wall he could see the kitchen, where the women inside were hard at work, several men helping them as well and moving at a furious pace, obviously trying to get things ready in time for the family's dinner.
Ludwig had yet to work a day. Bread was enough.
He carefully brushed his crumbs into the waste basket and set his plate underneath the window where several other dirty ones were stacked. He beat a hasty retreat after that, stopping only to check his appearance in a mirror that hung just outside the dining room. He looked exhausted but not disheveled. Exhaustion hadn't been a fireable offense on Kirkland's list.
Hopefully.
Ludwig took the stairs two at a time back to the main level and then tried to retrace his steps through the staff corridors. The passages were incredibly confusing, and he heard a clock squirreled away in some room chime a quarter past the hour, and he was no closer to finding the family's quarters.
He pushed his way through a set of double doors with a few letters scratched on them, muttering under his breath, when a sudden scream stopped him in his tracks. He glanced wildly about before he caught the source of the noise, a young girl with short, blonde hair who was clutching a small box against her ample chest, her blue eyes wide as they stared at him.
Wonderful.
Ludwig quickly held his hands out, trying to calm her without moving any closer.
"Miss – Miss would you please – Miss please stop screaming," he said, his voice growing louder with each subsequent 'miss.'
Quite suddenly she shut her mouth again, but her round, blue eyes still stared at him from over the box.
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice weak. "You… you gave me quite a shock, sir. Are you a guest, sir? Are you lost?"
A guest?
Ludwig quickly shook his head, trying to put a disarming smile on his face before he remembered Kirkland recommending against that.
"No, miss. I'm… new. The new valet," he said, wincing at the awkwardness of his own tone.
The girl's expression immediately brightened and she lowered the box slightly.
"The new valet? Oh, yes… her Ladyship was mentioning something about a new hire," the girl said, her voice losing a bit of the nervous edge it had held before. Her cheeks turned red and she fiddled with the box lid before mumbling quietly, "But, sir, this is the lady's quarters. If Mrs. Peeters catches you here not even Mr. Kirkland will be able to save you."
Ludwig's face paled and he took a step backwards, realizing too late that he should have paid better attention to the scribbling on the double doors.
"I'm so sorry," he said quickly, wondering just how much worse his day could get. He hated tempting Fate with that thought and gamely pushed on. "I'm incredibly turned around… I'm looking for the young lord – for Lord Gilbert's room."
The girl lifted her hand and pointed back the way Ludwig had come.
"It's… it's down that corridor and then if you take the third door you'll be in the main part of the house again," she said quietly, tugging the box up to hide her face once more.
Ludwig let out a silent sigh of relief and gave the woman a nod of thanks.
"You have my gratitude, Miss…?"
"Sofia," the girl said, her voice little more than a squeak.
"Miss Sofia."
Ludwig quickly turned around and practically ran through the doors. The thought of losing his job before it began for being a letch was not one on which he relished dwelling.
He followed the girl's advice and opened the third door. The sudden transition from the largely cool-colored servant's hallways to the rich browns and reds of the manor proper took him a moment to adjust, but then he quickly started off down the hallway, trying to somehow discern by instinct which room was the young lord's.
His footsteps slowed and he came to a halt in front of a large, oak door. What set it apart from the others in the hallway were the large scratches around the frame and the slight burn marks on the rug. Signs of a feral animal.
Ludwig briefly wondered what, exactly, had happened to the last valet.
Without giving himself time to be nervous, he rapped his knuckles against the door.
Only silence greeted him.
Ludwig frowned slightly and tried again, knocking a bit harder.
Still there was no response.
Ludwig glanced up and down the hallway, unsure of what to do. Kirkland had made it explicitly clear that all of the manor children were in their rooms prior to dinner so they could look presentable in front of their guardians. And yet here, clearly, was an empty room.
The floorboards shook slightly as the sound of footsteps echoed against the elaborate paintings and tapestries on the wall. Ludwig reacted on instinct, opening the door and hurrying inside to close it behind him. Valet or not he was in no mood for another surprise encounter. One screaming woman was enough for the day.
He waited until the footsteps had passed and then finally took stock of his surroundings. For as damaged as the door was, the boy's room was painfully neat. Books on aviation and cartography had prominent places on a large bookshelf that spanned the wall in between two massive bay windows, which were both opened to let the cool summer breeze inside. A grand four poster bed was pressed against another wall, its linens a dark, royal blue. Pillows were artfully strewn around a large fireplace, and several books were stacked beside them. The chairs beside the mantle appeared to be unused, if their pristine condition and lack of reading material within reach were anything to go by.
But still, there was one component missing.
The room's occupant was nowhere to be seen.
Ludwig frowned slightly and pushed himself away from the door, curiosity and annoyance getting the better of him. While it didn't surprise him that the boy defied predictability, he would have thought that Kirkland's influence and strict order would have somehow seeped into the young lord's head via osmosis, ensuring that he at least kept rules of punctuality.
Apparently not.
Ludwig hesitated a moment and then carefully picked his way across the room to the bookshelf, unable to resist taking note of the volumes stored on the shelves. One in particular caught his eye, its spine decorated with a pattern of serpent scales. The title was too blurry for Ludwig to read, but when he took yet another step closer a noise by the window made him quickly back away. It was a heavy, scraping sound, and before Ludwig could take proper stock of the situation, a pale white hand reached out to grab the edge of the sill, and a moment later the young lord hoisted himself inside. He sank to the ground, thin chest heaving and cheeks smeared with dirt. His face bore a weary look. He did not seem to notice Ludwig, who stood still as though turned to stone, unsure of what to do.
The young lord slowly pushed himself to his feet and began to make his way towards the bed when Ludwig finally thought to speak.
"Good ev—"
The boy whirled around, his face pale and his eyes wide with alarm, one hand grabbing for the post of the bed to steady himself.
Ludwig internally winced, but managed to hold his ground until the boy blinked and shook himself out of his fright. He gave Ludwig an odd look before a bemused expression took hold of him.
"Farmhand, whatever are you doing in my room?"
His eyes lit up and he took an eager step forward.
Ludwig swallowed heavily, suddenly painfully aware that he had lost whatever ground he'd held over the boy out in the garden that day.
"Could it be… you accepted the post?" the boy asked, letting out a sharp burst of laughter. He pressed a slender hand against his face, still laughing uproariously as he fell backwards onto the bed, starting to hiccup when he tried to speak.
"Y-You… you look… so ridiculous… in Kirkland's old suit no less…"
Ludwig tensed and glared at the boy, but all he said was, "If you could enjoy the apparent humorous bent the day has taken while getting cleaned up I would appreciate it, my lord."
The earl's son let out another burst of laughter, rolling slightly back and forth atop the bed.
"S-Stop stop it's too much!" he wheezed, letting out an undignified snort that seemed to catch him off guard enough to slow his laughter. The boy carefully pushed himself up, still clutching at his side. "Aha… oh that… yes." He wiped at his eyes and then stood, fixing Ludwig with a small grin.
"Sorry. It's just… like looking at the livestock dressed in clothing at the fair. The intent is to make people laugh, yes? No hard feelings?"
Ludwig's eye twitched slightly.
"No, sir."
"Good, good!" The boy pressed his fingertips together and then cast an askance look at the window. "Now. As much as I would love to bask in this moment for the foreseeable future, that will have to wait until after dinner. I'm assuming you have no idea what you are doing so I will do us both a massive favor and get ready myself this time and for all times in the future until it truly sinks in that I have been reduced to having a farmhand be my valet. Once I have resigned myself to this fact I imagine the hilarity of the situation will wear off drastically, so I am not looking forward to inviting that moment any sooner than need be."
For once, Ludwig had to (silently) admit his gratitude. "Very good, my lord. Should I –"
"Ah ah ah." The earl's son wagged his finger in Ludwig's face, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he grinned. "You are to 'should I' and 'may I' never. I will tell you what you should and may do before you need ask. And what you should do right now is close your eyes and stand there until I tell you otherwise."
Ludwig stared at the boy for a long moment before allowing himself to obey. He honestly had no idea how to go about… dressing someone, and if the young lord was willing to play pretend with the valet it would honestly be the best thing that happened since Ludwig had set foot in the manor. So he closed his eyes and remained perfectly still and listened to the earl's son dart about the room and splash water around in the bathroom before the creak of floorboards announced his return.
Ludwig kept his eyes closed, but he could still hear the glee in the young lord's voice.
"Stay, farmhand. And don't touch any of my things."
All Ludwig heard was another bright laugh and the slam of a door before he opened his eyes, glaring at the spot where the earl's son had been only moments ago.
Stay.
The order rankled, but Ludwig sat in place and watched the sun set through the open windows. His stomach growled with hunger once more, but he ignored it.
Proving his ability to be obedient wasn't necessarily proving the young lord's arrogance right.
He just had to keep telling himself that.
