One would think that, having been fired from a position as prestigious as the prince's butler, Dan would have no trouble finding a job whatsoever. However, the opposite seemed to be true. Falling from the top seemed to have only sunk him deeper into the pits of mud at the bottom, and no one was willing to pull him out. And those that were (though few and far between) couldn't afford to.
His siblings were all doing their best to pitch in, he knew. Peter and Luke each picked up double shifts, stumbling in at early hours in the morning with sore feet from repairing roads. They didn't bring in much income, either, as it was a job one would normally have to earn a little extra cash. Not to live off of. Still, Dan appreciated their efforts and made sure to heat up warm water throughout the day so they could soak their feet.
The one who brought the most money, somehow, was Agnes. At first she had started taking some from her dowry, but Dan had quickly put a stop to it. He repaid her back with the precious few coins Phil had been able to give him. He wasn't about to let her ruin her chance for marriage just because of his screw-up.
And so she had found other ways. She would never tell them how, exactly, but whatever it was worked. Their stomachs still rumbled, but not so much that Dan feared his family wouldn't survive to the next day.
Still, Dan knew this couldn't last. The list of jobs a woman could have was short; a queen or community leader, mother/wife, nun, or artisan. Having known Agnes her whole life, Dan knew she had no skill with a brush whatsoever. So wasn't adorable and pitiful like Alice, either.
However she was getting money couldn't be anything safe or good. Dan needed to find a job, a real job, soon.
No one else was going to get hurt because of him.
He set the rag on top of the fireplace, pulling the pot of water out of the flames. Luke should be home in about half an hour, which was just enough time for the pot to cool down so it would be ready for him.
Dan knew several elders who had had similar aches in their feet when they were younger and weary from a long day's work. Now, a good deal of them could barely stand on their own. They were bedridden with pain, forcing their grandchildren to take care of them.
Like hell if he was going to let that happen to his brothers.
Dan heard a knock of the door and looked up. No one came to the house unless they were lost, and even then it was such a small town, and the building was so hostile, that they preferred to ask the tavern owners instead.
He figured one of his brothers had probably left their keys somewhere. Hopefully just in the house; anywhere else and some drunk could pick them up. There wasn't enough money to hire the locksmith to make a new clasp.
He wiped his hands on his trousers and stood, crossing over to the door.
The one who had been knocking was a woman almost as tall as him, with chestnut hair and a maid's uniform. She carried a wicker basket in her hands, full to the brim with fruits and bread. She smiled brightly at him, taking one hand off the handle doing a wobbly curtsy. The arm holding the basket sunk noticeably.
"Lucy Trays," she greeted, blowing a loose curl from her eyes. "Would you be a Mister Daniel? The palace sent me."
"The palace..." Dan looked her over warily. She didn't seem like the type they would send to make arrests; her arms were thin and weak-looking, hence why she was barely able to hold the food. And the king wasn't the type to set up a trap so cleverly. He preferred to make a commotion, and this would be a perfect opportunity to show his power.
"Yes," he said with a nod. "I'm Dan. May I ask why you're here? Is there a problem?"
"Not unless you consider getting your job back a problem." She elbowed him lightly, eyes sparkling. Why had he never met anyone like this while working at the palace? Had he simply been searching in all the wrong places? "The prince managed to convince the king to keep you back on. Nasty business, really. Yelling, crying. You must mean a lot to the bloke."
"We're very close," Dan agreed shortly. "Is Phil...Is the prince alright? Did the king hurt him at all? I know-I heard he can be a little rough. With his son, I mean."
Lucy's expression darkened. "I think the young prince may have taken some lashes himself, Mister Daniel. I work for the washers as well as the kitchen. Everywhere, really, just doing odd jobs. A shirt came in with some blood on it. No one would say who, and I've seen this happen before. With a maid or butler or servant it would be no big deal, you see, beyond gossip. But this was a nice shirt, velvet and pretty. No one of our stature would've been able to afford it, I'm sure."
A lot of the palace servants opted to live at the castle, visiting family during the short allotted break periods and sending home money via the mail. It was cheaper and easier, especially for those who lived further away. However, disease was often a major part of their lives at the palace, living in such small quarters. That and violence made it one of the least pleasant places a person could possibly live. Despite this, so many lived there that it had become a common practice to have the servants wash both the royal family's clothing and other workers.
"I-I'm sorry to hear that, Lucy. And you may call me Dan, if you'd like. Should I return to work tomorrow, then? Is there anything else I have to know?"
The maid beamed at him, once again like a chipper little pet. "Alright, Dan. The prince said he'd like you to start working again today. Probably to get him ready for dinner, reconnect and such. You can walk back with me, if you'd like."
"I would love that."
? ﾟﾌﾙ?
Dan looked up at the two guards who were placed by the door. They sneered at him, an attempt that naturally failed when he towered at least a foot above them both.
He only knocked once before the prince grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, close the door behind him just as quickly and suddenly. "You did it," Dan said, burying his face in Phil's shoulder. "Why the hell would you do it? I told you I'm not worth the pain. And what will your queen think when she sees the scars? How in the world are you supposed to explain those to her?"
"She doesn't need to know anything." The prince met his eyes with a smile. Not just the slightly turned lips Dan was accustomed to-a smile. A crescent that made him able to fully visualize grinning ear to ear. "I'm sure she doesn't really care, either. We talked about it for a little bit-"
"It?"
"Our marriage. She said she didn't expect any love or friendship between the two of us, but hoped there could at least be comrades. Kind to each other." It shouldn't be hard, Dan figured, it was nearly impossible to imagine Phil being rude to anyone. "And she told me that, sometime during her visit here, she had fallen for someone."
"Oh?"
"Yes. A guard. I didn't tell her about you, but I made it very clear that I was fine with her situation. Which could possibly come in handy for the future."
It really was a stroke of luck. After all, the princess couldn't expect Phil to be fully loyal when she herself wasn't. Although Dan did wonder who the guard was. Most of them seemed to cold and calculating, cruel, almost, for anyone to love them. As visible workers, however, they were expected to be relatively handsome, so he supposed that could be the cause of her feelings.
She was very brave to tell Phil about her feelings. Most other future queens would be expected to be fully loyal, no matter what their king did. Coming forward with something like that would mean imprisonment or banishment, in many cases. If not death.
When he told Phil, the prince shrugged. He appeared to be more than a little uncomfortable. "She probably wanted to clear the air," he guessed, "before the wedding next week."
"Next week? Phil, what do you mean 'next week'?"
Dan had that this was coming from the very moment he saw the future rulers dancing together during the ball. Before then, even, when he was only a servant listening to rumors. Logical rumors. But back then it hadn't mattered to him; it would only be another day of work, the wedding. Another thing to clean up afterwards.
But back then, he hadn't known Phil. He hadn't cared about him or anything, anything but making it through the day without starving to death.
He should've known right from the star. Phil was the sun, and he was only the moon. They could never be together.
? ﾟﾌﾙ?
"Hey you." Dan scooped Alice into his arms, hugging her tightly for a second before gently lowering her to the floor. "You look like you're doing well."
And she did. His sister's cheeks were noticeably plumper, as though she had had a decent meal for once in her life. Her hair, glossy and long, was pulled back by a little red ribbon. Her dress, the same color as her ribbon, was simple, obviously meant for a worker, but he could tell she took good care of it.
Phil had told Dan that his sister had been doing well, but that was an understatement. There was no sign of the sickness in her; her skin practically glowed with health.
She and Daniella had been laying on the floor, practicing their alphabet on the little pads of paper Dan had seen on his first day. The princess had almost fully covered one sheet with a messy print of the first few letters in upper and lowercase, but Alice had written hers carefully, in handwriting so small the entire alphabet barely took up the page.
His sister folded her arms, eyeing him scrutinizingly. "Better than you, I'd assume. You look awful; when was the last time you ate?"
"This morning," he lied, waving away Daniella, who was trying to push a piece of bread into his hands. "I'm fine, really. I got laid off for a few days from my job, but the others did wonderfully supporting us for that time. Now that I'm back, the first thing I plan to do is head to the market and buy us all some apples."
That was an exaggeration. Dan knew he probably wouldn't get money until the end of next week, for one, and even then it would only be enough to pay for three. Maybe he'd just buy two and make the others split it evenly.
"I'm just glad you're alright." Both girls hugged him, their heads barely reaching past his midriff.
Just as her twin had been, Alice had gotten the worst side of luck when it came to height. She would grow, he knew, but it seemed she had inherited their mother's shortness. In fact, with her wide eyes and straight hair, Alice resembled her more than anyone else in the family. He only hoped she wouldn't receive her bad luck too.
Dan smiled down at them. "Of course I'm alright. It'd take a lot more than a rumbling stomach to kill me."
He heard footsteps on the cold marble of the hallway behind him. Dan turned, dropping to his knees immediately. The man sent him a cold glare and beckoned Dan to follow him, turning back out the door.
Looking worriedly back at the girls, Dan trailed after the king.