It was cold in the High Lady Jenwise’s office, perhaps colder than it should have been. I stood there a good distance away from her desk while she chatted with some dignitary that I didn’t recognize. To the left and right, two guards, each in a pressed blue uniform, each with a rifle slung over their shoulders. Their faces were expressionless but I knew that they were watching me, even as I stood there in my tattered prison uniform and barely passable footwraps. For someone of my station they hadn’t been gentle with me, but given the nature of my crime I supposed that I was lucky it hadn’t been worse. Nobility doesn’t often stay in prison for long, but for someone who had killed a Tyntalf, indentured servitude was the least they could do.

The mid-day sun cast a foreboding shadow on the room which momentarily passed, leaving only the three occupants, who were engaged in a heated conversation with the Lady Jenwise who was seated behind her desk, hands waving expressively as she took part in the conversation.

“-impossible!” The male dignitary exclaimed. “we cannot survive without the Mockreet, how are we to-”

“We have survived before,” Jenwise interjected. “For now, you understand, we cannot trade with cities behind the Stormveil. Our own trade routes are not disrupted. Yes, this is a problem, but-”

“It is more than a problem!” The second dignitary, an older man in his thirties perhaps, insisted. “There are resources on the other side of the Stormveil that we cannot get elsewhere! How can you sit here and-”

“We will survive, as we always have!” Lady Jenwise slammed her hands on the table. “We will investigate, and if possible, we will find a way to restore the Mockreet. Gentlemen, I think you fail to understand the opportunity this affords us. If we restore the Mockreet, if we end the corruption, then we control Hybra and the passage through the Stormveil. What a fantastic opportunity that has presented itself!”

“But lady-”

“Stow your fretting,” The lady snapped. “Take your leave, go to your Lords and tell them to prepare to mobilize. We will stop the corruption, we will restore the Mockreet, and we will control our side of the Stormveil, indefinitely. But, before that, we learn to live without the luxuries that it has provided us. Am I understood?”

“Yes lady,” The dark haired man said. “But-”

“I ordered you to return to your Lords, and your Lady,” She snapped, placing her hands on the desk as she rose. “and as the High Lady of Klocby, I anticipate obedience. Have my words reached you?”

“Yes lady,” Both men said in unison as they fled the room. The Lady Jenwise let out an exasperated sigh before dropping back into her plush blue chair and placing her head in her hands. She was a woman years older than me, perhaps in her mid-thirties with blonde hair pulled back into a tight tail, and a regal blue dress that perfectly matched her form. I stood back, between two pillars that flanked either side of the room, matching the other four that led to the front where her considerable desk stood amidst the backdrop of a tall picture window flanked by two bookshelves just as high.

I felt like I should say something, after all, I wasn’t an ordinary prisoner. I was Micah Lavoric, was I not? I stepped forward and was acutely aware of the uncomfortable shifting of both guards; I could feel their eyes following me.

“Lady Jenwise-” I began, but her sudden glare drove me to silence.

“Master Micah Lavoric,” She sighed, standing up and crossing her arms. “This is, without a doubt, the strangest situation I’ve ever been in. What was it, a Tyntalf? You knocked off an endangered animal? I’m surprised they didn’t sweep that under the rug as they do in Axock.”

“My, father,” I smiled slightly. “He felt that there should be an example. If nobility can face consequences, then so can anyone else.”

“You had the choice of prison or indentured servitude, so you picked one that would get you a nice cushy bed in a manse far away from your father. I see, I see. Well, you and I both know this will be a joke, actual punishment is out of the question for nobility, which I agree with by the way. So with that said, you can pick an assignment for your two years. You’ll sleep in the servant’s quarters with the others, and…goddess, this is exhausting. Why don’t you be a groom? You can care for the animals, I hear you’re good at that.”

“I…I don’t think so,” I said, my voice suddenly choked. The Lady raised an eyebrow at me and then eyed me curiously. My seventeen years in this world hadn’t remotely prepared me for what I was about to do.

“Nonsense,” She said. “I’ll send for Elric, the stablemaster. He’ll get you settled. Then I don’t want to hear from you, understood? Serve out your sentence and leave my estate.”

“Why did you agree to this?” I asked suddenly. I needed to know; needed to ask questions before I couldn’t. My nobility would only go so far once I’d said the things I needed to say.

“Because nobility should not rot in dungeons for any length of time, at least not for a crime as simple as killing an animal. So what’s it to be, then? Animals? Perhaps the polishing of blades? Dull, uninvigorating work but not so disgusting as the cleaning of latrines, and I doubt one of noble blood, such as yourself is accustomed to lawn care.”

“I’m afraid not, High Lady,” I said apologetically. “I have…perhaps an unorthodox request.”

“You should like to walk through the front gate, never to be seen again? I apologize, Master Lavoric. Though you’re no master here. I’m afraid I am required to send quarterly reports to at least two different sources. You would do well to mind your limitations here. No matter, I shall decide for you, the stables it is. Guard, please send for Elric.”

There was little time remaining; if I didn’t speak up now then Elric would come and I would spend the next two years mucking stables. I didn’t want to say it, but it had to be done, for myself.

“I would like to serve as your cup bearer, High Lady Jenwise,” I blurted it out as quickly as I could and wondered if the words I’d expelled form my lips had even been coherent. They must have been, for the High Lady froze in place, her hands, which had been idly flipping through the pages of a document were now still, her index finger stretched over the bottom corner of the paper. Finally, she looked up at me, her eyes fixed with a mixture of confusion and resolve.

“You are young,” She told me. “This I understand, but you should at the very least have an academic understanding of the roles within our society. They cannot be so different, even between Klocby and Axock. The position of cup bearer is reserved for women and girls. Of which you are neither.”

“I would like to be considered as such,” I said quickly, uttering words that I’d never have dared to speak at any other occasion. Not in my father’s court, not with my friends, not even with my sister. I wasn’t even certain that it was the best idea now as the High Lady could respond in any manner she wished. Perhaps she would laugh at me, perhaps she would have me sent away, to serve out sentence in one of the many prisons here or even in Axock. My stomach turned at the idea and I felt my fate growing more uncertain with each passing moment.

“Is this a joke?” Her expression remained calm, but I could tell that she was repressing a glare. Her thin lips were pursed and her deep blue eyes pierced through me as the moment became more volatile by the second. I felt as if I were standing inside a lit keg of powder and the fuse was running short.

“No, High Lady,” I said quickly. Lady Jenwise rose from the chair and stepped around the desk, the fabric of her gown swished against the desk until she cleared it an swung around the front, standing in front of me, arms crossed and her eyes traveling up and down my body as if inspecting me.

“Wouldn’t that be a laugh,” She suddenly mused. “Master Micah Lavoric, son of Lord Lavoric, heir to the Lavoric fortune would like to be treated as a serving girl. I’m glad it’s in jest. Guard, please retrieve Elric-”

“High Lady, with respect,” I said. “I do not speak in jest.”

Behind me, I heard one of the guards give a light, nearly inaudible snicker. The High Lady’s neck immediately snapped in the direction of the noise and she stormed past me, her skirts in a flury behind her as she walked at a nearly inhuman speed down the center of the room until she reached the remaining guard - the other had apparently gone to fetch Elric.

“You are relieved of duty!” She snapped. “Leave my chamber, find a suitable replacement and never show your face here again.”

“Yes, High Lady,” The guard made a salute and departed the room.

“Are you being serious?” She demanded of me.

“Yes, High Lady,” I said without turning around. My eyes were transfixed on the picture window that overlooked the court and beyond that, the city of Klocby. Somewhere, to the northeast, the clockwork city of Hybra sat wedged between the Stormveil. Little did I know the fate that had befallen the massive gateway city during my brief imprisonment in my father’s towers.

“No,” She said suddenly and decidedly. My heart sank.

“No, High Lady?” I asked, turning to face her. She stood across from me, near the door, the blue silk of her gown gleamed in the reflection of the light, though its radiance did not, by any means, overtake the scowl that she was casting in my direction. Before she could respond to me, the door opened and I saw the second guard return with a dark-skinned man in tow.

“Reporting as requested, High Lady,” The man took a bow with his right hand across his waist, and his left hand folded behind his back. The High Lady rolled her eyes.

“Elric,” She said, turning to address him. “Please fetch Sheena for me, I shall not need your services just yet.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Elric took alother bow, his red hair gleaming in the light. He took a quick glance at me before departing the room. The guard returned to his position and the High Lady stepped back around me, leaning against her desk with both palms laid flat at her sides.

“Master Lavoric,” She said calmly and smoothly. “Have you ever heard of Lord Bodgett Jenwise?”

“No, High Lady,” I shook my head. My embarassment was at an all time high, my cheeks burned in her presence and somehow her change in mood bided the arrival of a storm of whom I was its only target.

“Lord Bodgett Jenwise wanted to…experience life as a commoner, to become closer to his people. I admire him, I suppose, though it certainly isn’t something that I would do myself. He coded into law an exemption of sorts that would allow a noble to choose to be treated as a commoner for a specified period of time. The legends say the man lived in a gutter for a year, leaving the running of his estates, and Klocsby proper to his council. Whether or not he returned to court with a better understanding of the human condition is a matter of great conjecture and one that I’d rather not delve into at this very moment.”

“High Lady?” I frowned as I tried to determine exactly why she was telling me this.

“Tell me, Master Lavoric,” She said, smiling a little. “Have you ever tasted of commoner food?’

“No, High Lady,” I said carefully, unsure of where this was going.

“I myself would never let it pass my lips,” She shuddered almost imperceptably. “Bland, tasteless stuff I hear. One of the many downsides of being common. Peeing a trough could be another. The clothes they wear? As bland as their food. Browns, and grays, not a blue or purple to be found among them, and I do love my blue. Now, Master Lavoric, what I need from you is a simple yes, or no, are you prepared to render such an answer?”

“An answer to what, High Lady?” I felt as if my orignal question was being rather expertly ignored. Before she could give me her answer, the door behind me opened and I heard two distinct pairs of footsteps. I turned to see a girl perhaps a little older than me, black of hair, and while not overly large, she looked as if she could stand against me in a fight if she were as skilled. She wore a simple black dress with white trim, and she did not appear as a common servant, even though she was dressed as one. She held herself with a confidence that I immedately found myself to envy.

“Thank you for coming, Sheena,” The High Lady said of the girl, as if she’d had a choice in whether or not she came. Sheena gave a brief curtsy, and then gave me no more than a cursory glance before turning her full attention back to the High Lady.

“How may I be of service, High Lady?” She asked.

“The man beside me, do you know of him?”

“I do, High Lady,” She looked at me again, then back to the High Lady as if she barely cared for my presence. That, was a first for me. “This is Master Micah Lalvoric, son of Lord Lavoric of Axock; heir to the Lavoric fortune and heir to the throne of Axock.”

“And what do you think of him?” The High Lady asked her. “You may speak freely, without fear of repurcussion.”

“I think not well of him,” She said quickly. “I would not presume to speak more on the matter.”

“Indeed,” The Hight Lady nodded. “Master Lavoric has been convicted of a crime and has chosen to serve out his period of indentured servitude under the auspices of Klocsby. Is that not fantastic?”

“I suppose, High Lady,” Sheena said in a flat tone. “Though even a punished noble is never truly punished.”

“I cannot say you are wrong,” She agreed. “But Master Lavoric has made a special request for the term of his servitude. He has requested to be my cup bearer.”

I could see realization wash over Sheena’s face, but somehow she did not lose her composure.

“High Lady?” She asked, prodding for further information.

“Master Lavoric has asked to be treated as, and regarded as a servant girl during his indenture here and I am inclined to grant his request.”

The sinking feeling that had dominated me moments ago lifted and was replaced with something entirely different. Anticipation washed over me as I realized that my desire might actually be fulfilled, and I wondered what it would mean for the future. What if my father discovered my activities? What of my mother? It was, however, too late to back down. I had to follow through.

“I see, High Lady,” Sheena looked at me apprehensively.

“Now as I was saying earlier, Master Lavoric,” She smiled at me, a genuine smile this time. “There is a codified law that would permit a noble to pass for a commoner for a specified period of time, but only if the noble agrees to it. If we are to carry out this grand experiment of yours, you would then agree to be a commoner. You would forfeit the rights of nobility for the period of time, and no repurcissions would befall Sheena or the other girls for how you are treated. I do not say that you will be mistreated, but life as a commoner can be daunting. What you percieve as mistreatment would be commonplace for them. I do not ask for your understanding I ask for you confirmation and acceptance, have we a deal?”

I froze in place, unsure of what to say or do. Give up my noble status? Sink to the level of a commoner? I wanted to live as a girl, I’d always wanted it, but what would I be without my title? I’d envisioned wearing silk gowns and merely providing refreshment to the Lady Jenwise as needed, but this? What would I do as a commoner? How would people percieve me?”

“The hour grows late, Master Lavoric,” The High Lady said to me disapprovingly. “Render your decision or I’ll have you expelled from the house.”

“I will abide by your terms,” I said quietly. What was I to do now? Either way, news of what I’d chosen to do would travel, better to suffer the consequences of my actions here than deal with the jeering of prisoners in my father’s towers. “But High Lady, how long will the term be?”

“You no longer have the right to know,” She crossed back behind her desk and reached into the top drawer, pulling out a piece of parchment. “Guard! Fetch my scribe! Bring to me a second witness! I’m afraid that Master Lavoric’s troubles have just begun!”

Moments later, a scribe drew up a contract and I found myself etching my signature with a mechanical quill. My new life was beginning, but somewhere out there, near the Stormveil and beyond my knowledge, the city of Hybra burned, and the world would change forever.