Yūi wasn't sure what to make of the servants tending him. He hadn't been treated so well in a very long time, and never pampered and fussed over like this. In Valeria, before he'd been imprisoned, the servants had been loathe to even touch him or Fai, and only did so because it was required of them. They had detested the misfortune he and his brother had carried, and had feared that too much close contact would contaminate or harm them. Yūi and Fai had always been unwelcome, and the servants unfailingly grim and silent.

The servants now with him displayed absolutely no repulsion at all. Rather, they seemed quite pleased, and chattered happily as they went about their duties. Yūi didn't know how to respond, and passively allowed them to bathe him and wash his long hair, then help him from the tub and towel him dry. When they spoke to him, he replied in monosyllables. Instead of chastising him for his lack of courtesy, as he expected, they cooed sympathetically and offered him reassurances.

Not only were the servants strange. In his whole life he'd never had access to the ruler's private chambers. He was afraid to touch anything, even though the servants made free use of various items in the large washroom.

Yūi found Seresu and its people bewildering.

One of the maids left briefly, then returned bearing a beautiful set of white nightclothes, made of the smoothest, finest linen and decorated with elegant blue embroideries of interlaced knotwork designs. The patterns reminded him a little of those used in Valeria. However, they were sharper, more geometric, with pointed three- and four-lobed knots being prominent. It made them different enough that he would never mistake them for those from his home country.

Was that garment for him? He hadn't worn such nice, soft clothing in so very long. He wasn't sure if he could or should. It didn't seem right. He looked around frantically, but his prisoner's tunic was nowhere in sight. "Where are my clothes?"

The maid said, "Right here, Lord Fai. Let us help you with them."

Yūi was still unaccustomed to being called by his brother's name, let alone to being addressed respectfully by a title. Both startled him, and Fai's name reminded him that he didn't want to be Yūi anymore. But he couldn't help it; no matter what others called him, he was still Yūi.

He stared down at the floor so the maid couldn't see his guilt. "No, I meant my real clothes. What I was wearing before." His prisoner's tunic was the only clothing he deserved.

She wrinkled her nose. "That thing? I removed it. You don't want that."

"But—"

"Now hold up your arms, yes, just like that."

Before he knew it, the maids had slipped the fine garment over his head and arranged it around his body. One maid started gently detangling his hair with an exquisitely carved ivory comb inlaid with mother-of-pearl, while another filed and buffed his ragged nails to shining smoothness.

Again, not knowing what else to do, Yūi surrendered and stood passively.

When the servants deemed their ministrations complete, they wrapped him in a warm robe and gave him thick slippers to wear.

Yūi plucked at his sleeve. "These...these clothes aren't really mine. Whose are they?"

"They were the king's, my lord," a maid told him. "He wore them when he was your age. Now they are yours. He wants you to use them, at least until we have some new clothes made to your measure."

Yūi vaguely remembered King Ashura saying something of the sort back in the shrine, but it was all snarled up in a chaotic blur of fear and confusion. "Oh," he said helplessly. "All right, then."

A maid gave a final twitch to the arrangement of his clothes. "There," she said to him, "you're done, Lord Fai. Let's go show His Majesty. I'm sure he'll be pleased." She sounded quite pleased with herself, at least.

The maids led him out. Tantalizing smells came to him, and he heard music. When they entered the common room, he saw Lady Kendappa sitting by the fireplace and strumming on a harp. King Ashura sat across from her, reading some official-looking documents. Both looked up when he arrived.

Lady Kendappa stopped playing and set aside her harp. She beamed at him. "Oh, that's much better. Don't you agree, cousin?"

The king put his papers down on a side table. "Indeed, but I think he's more interested in the soup than our opinion."

Yūi realized he had been sniffing the air. Embarrassed, he opened his mouth to apologize, but his stomach growled. His mouth snapped shut and his eyes widened with shock. That was something else he hadn't experienced in a long time. He'd rarely been very hungry in the pit and had been grateful for that mercy, although there had been some unbearable times that he tried not to remember... But now he felt ravenous.

"I think you'd better have something to eat before you go to bed," King Ashura said.

"Bed?" Yūi said.

"You may not know it, but it's rather late."

He would get to sleep in a real bed? Yūi couldn't even remember what that was like.

The king came over to him and, with a light hand on Yūi's shoulder, guided him over to a table and chair. On it was a bowl, some eating and drinking utensils, a tureen, and a pitcher, all made of precious silver. A manservant ladled the delicious smelling broth into the bowl. Yūi stared at it.

"Go ahead," King Ashura encouraged him. "You need it." He poured a light pink liquid from the pitcher into the cup himself, and set it down by Yūi's bowl.

Casting wary glances all around him, Yūi gingerly sat down at the table. He picked up the cup and sipped delicately. The drink was wonderful, a cool, sweet fruit juice that he didn't recognize. He took a big gulp.

"Not too fast, Fai, or you'll get sick," Lady Kendappa said. "Try some of the soup. Don't worry, it's not too hot to eat."

It had been a long time since his early lessons in manners, or since he'd needed such skills, but Yūi did remember the proper use of a spoon. He dipped it into the soup and brought it to his lips. It was hot, but not too much so, and tasted even better than the fruit drink. He wanted to pick up the bowl and drain it all down, but refrained. He would not embarrass himself by acting like a savage in front of the king and Lady Kendappa, not when they were being so nice to him. Those old lessons in manners were useful, after all.

Yūi only managed to eat about half the soup before his shriveled stomach couldn't hold any more. He was disappointed, but didn't want to get sick in the king's chambers. That would be worse than eating like a barbarian. But he also didn't want anyone to think he didn't like the food. He didn't know what to tell them, and sat staring at the bowl.

"I think that's enough," Lady Kendappa said, rescuing him from his dilemma. "You don't have to eat it all, Fai. This is a good start."

They were being so nice to him, and he couldn't even eat his food. Yūi felt very bad about that. Then he yawned, and his eyelids drooped. He jerked them open. "Oh," he said, surprised. "I— I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"I think it's time you went to bed," King Ashura said, amused.

At least the king wasn't mad. He sounded as though he had been expecting Yūi to fall asleep at the table.

"Okay," Yūi said. He was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed.

He hadn't expected to be taken to the king's own bedchamber, though, nor being settled in the enormous, richly curtained bed it contained. Feeling intimidated and a little frightened that he was intruding where he didn't belong, he said to the king, "But this is yours. I can't sleep here."

King Ashura merely smiled and tucked him in. "I don't need it tonight. We can't have you sleeping in a chair or on the floor, now, can we?"

Considering where he'd last slept, Yūi didn't think anything was wrong with the floor, but he didn't want to argue. He felt lost in the giant, elaborately carved mahogany bed, but at the same time, it felt so nice. The feather mattress, smooth sheets, and pillows were so comfortable. He wanted to snuggle into the weight of the blankets and thick fur coverlets on top of him. It was so pleasant to be warm, and clean, and fed. It all had to be a dream; it couldn't be real. Could it?

The king said, "Tomorrow you can pick out your own apartments, and we'll have them furnished however you like."

"My own?" He'd get his own rooms, too? "Any I want?"

"Well, you'll have to choose from what's available in the royal wing, but there are many that are unused. Right now, only Kendappa and I live here permanently."

"Are any next to yours free?"

The king nodded. "Yes."

"Can I have them?"

"But you haven't even seen them yet, Fai. Others might suit you better."

"It doesn't matter. I want those."

The king gave him the nicest smile yet, without even a trace of the sadness Yūi had sensed in him so often this day. "Then they're yours. Now get some sleep."

King Ashura waved a hand. The magic lights in the room all went out, and even the fire in the hearth dimmed somewhat. "Good night, Fai," he said, pulling the bed curtains closed. He slipped out, shutting the door after him.

Yūi still had a hard time believing his new situation was real and not just a dream. He half expected to wake and find himself in the pit with all those horrible dead bodies.

"Oh, Fai," he whispered. "I wish you had lived. You should be here, too. You'd have liked it here."

But if Fai had lived, King Ashura could never have come, not while the pit and tower were intact. Instead, Yūi and Fai would both still be imprisoned, even now. Only that strange, frightening sorcerer had made freedom possible. It must have been he who had destroyed the pit and tower. The price of escape had been high, though, so high. Too high. It had cost Fai his life, and Yūi everything else. It was his fault Fai was dead, and he kept thinking he should die, too, so he could join his brother. It would be justice, wouldn't it? He deserved to die.

He was a monster, a monster who had condemned his poor, innocent brother for the sake of his own survival. That was why he'd abandoned his name, why he'd taken Fai's name. By doing so, he had hoped to keep Fai alive and to bury the monster Yūi forever, but it would never end, not ever. Not as long as he couldn't forget that he was really Yūi. Not until he brought Fai back.

Not only that, but he was lying to King Ashura, all the time, and hiding so much from him about what a monster he really was, and what horrible things he planned to do someday. But the king wanted something from him, as well, and hadn't told him what, so maybe it was okay to lie. Besides, Yūi had to do what that sorcerer had told him. He had live and grow up so he could go on that journey the sorcerer wanted, even kill some of the people he would accompany as the sorcerer had told him. He had to do those things so he could bring Fai back to life. He just wished it didn't make him feel so awful.

Yūi was terribly, horribly sorry Fai was dead, but he wasn't sorry he was here, now. He wanted to stay forever and forget everything else. And that made him feel bad, too.

Why did things have to be so complicated? Why had his and Fai's lives been so terrible? Why couldn't he and Fai both have had this nice, new life with the king?

Sniffling and with tears forming in his eyes, Yūi buried himself under the covers and tried to pretend everything was okay.

Just for a little while.

Despite his best efforts to make himself even more miserable, the exhaustion and strains of the day caught up with him, and the comfort and security he now experienced lulled him. He fell into a deep sleep without noticing.