5:
I am often assigned to watch over a particular slave. It is not a difficult task, but I must confess it makes me uncomfortable. I do not understand why Lord Lucien keeps this slave, for he is a shriveled husk of a man, never even used for the menial labor given to most of the slaves. The other guards insist he is always silent, for them. To me, he whispers. In my mind, I think.
He tells me of the outside, as he remembers it anyway. He tells me of children. Of dogs.
Sometimes he even gives me stories of magic doors, of secrets long hidden from Albion – a world of adventure, of chaos. I desire no place in such a world. The ordered paradise my lord Lucien promises is often all that keeps me going.
This prisoner does not understand, and I have no interest in making him understand. Nor do I make the other Guards aware of the discomfort he gives me. They would insist I am mad. Beyond that, they would think that I dislike my duty, or intend to disobey. I am obedient.
I cannot remember a time when I wished to be disobedient, though sometimes the Commandant assures me I was, and this very book suggests the same. I was such a failure, once.
Now, I am always obedient.