*Long, long ago*

James sat in the parlor room, sitting in his favorite beige settee that gave him the perfect viewpoint of the entire room and its occupants.

His 6 older brothers varied in their manners and activities as they milled about the room on the sunny February day. Angus, Kent, and Wesley were reading, while Edward and Donald stood in self-important discussions, and Clarence studied in one of his usual spots.

James was the only one to watch instead of occupy himself with a task.

As the youngest of 6 older brothers, he had long learned that it was a far better use of his time to observe than to try to interfere with the self-important prats of his family-, especially on this particular day. They all were waiting for the same news, though with varying levels of excitement, regarding the man whom had a strong opinion on how everything was to be done, and how the world was supposed to conduct itself.

Their father was on his deathbed, and the man had been preparing for that exact day for quite sometime at the bequest of the Seer he kept on staff. None of the brothers could resist their morbid curiosity pertaining to their father’s final domineering plan for all of them.

If their mother had been alive, she would chastise them all for not appearing more somber, even though she too had deep rooted issues with her husband.

As they all occupied themselves, there was a an executer of wills waiting to explain what they all stood to inherit from the cold bastard who would probably be warmer in death than he ever was in life.

James could tell that his eldest brother, Edward, was anticipating gaining the title of Earl, and the majority of his father’s portfolio of investments. He knew Clarence only cared that he had enough money to finish his studies, and that he be bequeathed particularly valuable volumes from their father’s extensive library that had been built for the prestige more than for a love of literature.

Angus, and Wesley were both already in the military, and would only want to ensure they would live comfortably, and Kent and Donald hoped for large investments and a couple of the Summer homes to continued their growing loves of lavish parties and other such luxuries.

James had kept his own desires close to his chest, not wanting to spur on any viciousness from his brother’s, and knowing from watching many ambitions be taken down by their father, that it was best not to tell the man what he truly desired.

The truth was that, what he wanted was the means to forge his own path.

He wanted a ship that was entirely his own to sail the world, to see new continents, and to meet more people, and witness more than just the same stuffy parties and courtiers. All of them vying for more of one thing or another...

Everyone in the Southern Kingdom seemed to be after the exact same thing; More parties, more money, more love, more power… It all seemed paltry to James.

The doors to the parlor banged open, and every one of the Murphy boys raised their gaze to stare at the dower executer whose name James had already forgotten.

Was it Humphrey…?

“Your father, as of midday, has passed.” His jowls trembled as he spoke, and he prolonged some of his words as he stared down his red nose at them.

He was a tall man of 6’4, with salt and pepper mutton chops, and posture that was so straight his back seemed to almost begin to bend backwards.

“The leech of joy has finally relieved us of his presence, praise the Gods.” Donald toasted the room, a small smile starting on his slightly round face. The third eldest had once been known to have ample boyish charms, but a decade of decadence and indulgence had lead to a softening face and tummy-, making him appear all the more average.

“If you all could please follow me to your father’s study, he wished us to handle the proceedings of his will immediately.” The executer raised an unsavory caterpillar eyebrow at Donald.

“Yes brothers, for all of our father’s faults, he has given us life. We must conduct ourselves with some measure of dignity until the end of this.” Edward, already trying to manage them all, puffed his chest up, making his blonde retreating hairline gleam in the sunlight that streamed through the windows from its multiple oils.

Kent snorted, but closed his book and stood. Donald, Wesley, and Angus rolled their eyes in a way that was all too alike, and began to file themselves out of the room after the executer.

Soon, it was only Clarence and James left behind.

James had liked Clarence best of his brother’s, but even that wasn’t saying much. The 2nd eldest brother was the only one to even somewhat resemble James in his eyes and face. While James’ other brother’s were all blonde and brown eyed, he alone carried the chestnut brown hair and bright blue eyes. Clarence’s hair had darkened from all of his time holed away in his study, but his eyes were the same shimmering blue of the pristine sea that lapped along their Kingdom’s shores.

“Do you think we all will get what we want?” James muttered as they headed for the doors.

“Did our father ever care about our own desires?” Clarence countered airily. Though James could see that there was a quickness in his brother’s step, and that told him there was a shred of hope.

Upon entering the study, James found that his brothers were standing in the line of their births, and were silent aside from their fidgeting. Clarence stepped in the empty space between Edward and Donald, and James strode with his hands in his pockets slowly to the end of the line.

The executer stood in front of them all, hands clasped behind his back as he stood behind their father’s mahogany desk. The study was in fact the top floor of the North turret-, its high spire ceiling glowering down at any who stood beneath it. A feature that the deceased Edward the 4th had loved.

“On behalf of Edward Malachi Camden Murphy the 4th, Earl of the Southern Kingdom, 4th in line to inherit the throne of the Southern Kingdom, the following conditions of his will are to be executed precisely. The arrangements have been made with attention to each of your personalities and needs, and must be adhered to at all costs.”

“A tyrant even in death.” James muttered.

Humphrey cast him a scathing glare before continuing.

“For the eldest, Lord Edward Malcolm Tobias Murphy the 5th, you inherit the full title of Earl, this Keep, and 30 percent of all investments that were in your father’s charge.” Edward’s jaw dropped. 30 percent would make him the laughing stock of their peers. Everyone knew it was an insult, and that the correct amount would have been at least 50 percent, but he clamped his mouth shut, his dark eyes glittering with anger.

“For Lord Clarence Mateo Rhett Murphy, I bequeath every one of my books, 10 percent of my tenements, and the duty of updating the family tree.” Clarence practically glowed, despite not smiling his spectacles gleamed as he bowed in silent thanks to the executer who nodded in return.

“For Lord Donald Matthew Stanford Murphy, you inherit the summer house along the Eastern shore, and 3 percent of your father’s tenements.”

“What kind of insult is-” Clarence reached over and placed a calming hand on his brother whom had turned bright red at the news that he was essentially being exiled from city life to the soggy wasteland of the Eastern shores in the Southern Kingdom. He would no longer be privy to the riches he had been partaking in for the past decade.

Once it was certain that Donald was not about to have another outburst, Humphrey continued.

“For Kent Maddox Easton Murphy, you are to inherit the port villa, and 7 percent of the shipping and trades portfolio.” Kent grinned. He was still in town, and the merchants had been doing respectably in the recent years. He knew he would be in good hands for his life.

James felt his stomach sink, as he had hoped for the villa for himself so that he could have a home by the sea of his own.

No matter, there were more ships he could inherit.

“For Angus Manuel Vaughn Murphy, you are bequeathed 50 percent of the shipping and trades portfolio.”

There was an explosion of cursing and movement as Edward tried to launch himself at his brother’s neck, and Donald threw up his hands swearing more articulately than most sailors.

It took another several moments to calm down, but by then; James’ heart had already turned to stone.

He already knew where the rest of the shipping portfolio was going.

“To Wesley Maurice Anthony Murphy, you are to inherit the remaining 43 percent of the shipping and trades portfolio.” There was a very restrained silence as this bit of information sunk in.

It was as James had surmised in the past few minutes; his father was rewarding his sons in the military. He was giving them the means necessary to turn trades of cloth, foods, and other goods, into liquid assets for war and battle ships.

For all of his father’s talk of an impending war, James hadn’t truly understood the involvement the Earl had expected to have in it.

With reddened cheeks from his overwhelming emotions, the youngest of the brother’s was due to discover his fortunes. However, aside from other tenement investments that would make him a fat landlord, tied to the land and the people he was beholden to take care of, there was nothing for him.

“For James Arthur Landon Murphy, you are not bequeathed any of your father’s worldly possessions, and only 4 percent of his tenement investments.” A guffaw from Donald interrupted Humphrey, whom looked as though he was ready to give Donald a proper wallop.

James’ cheeks burned brighter. This was his father’s final blow. His final way of shaming the black sheep of the family by declining him any claim to an heirloom or a home.

“Instead, you are to be gifted a Servicer.”

The room went silent. Humphrey slowly moved to the side door of the office, and pulled it open to allow in a petite young woman who wore a forest green gown buttoned to her throat.

She was the most exotic woman any of them had ever seen, a lock of black hair waved prettily by her face, with the rest of her hair pulled back tightly into a bun.

She curtsied in front of James, only glancing briefly at him with her dark brown slanted eyes with their flecks of gold somehow both warm, and cold at the same time.

James felt his granite heart somersault. He fumbled through an abhorrent bow, and forgot to speak or instigate introductions as a result.

“Her name is Ida, and we will conduct the bonding ceremony here in front of your family so that they might witness this remarkable gift your father has chosen for you.” The executer procured a piece of parchment that still carried the thick waxy seal of the Ruling Family.

Ida stepped lightly to his left side, and took his hand while maintaining her rigid posture, and keeping her eyes forward.

James couldn’t help but stare in shock at her.

“If you could both please kneel.”

James was shaking, and his palms were sweating profusely. This had all happened so suddenly. He had been given this… this strange gift. Only it wasn’t a gift. It was a person-; A real woman.

Humphrey stepped in front of James, and cleared his throat crisply.

“By the temporary authority granted to me by the Family of Rulers pertaining to this Servicer, I bond Ida, to James Arthur Landon Murphy, for life. To protect, to teach, to confide in with the utmost trust, and to serve until death parts you. This bond is sanctioned by The Ruling Family, The King of the South Kingdom, and with both of your consent.” Humphrey allowed for a single beat of silence, and when no objection came, finished with:

“I bond you, from now, until the end, to one another.”

James felt en electrical jolt course through his body, that made him feel as though he were freezing, and yet he was sweating profusely as Ida’s hand in his own grew warmer and warmer. It felt like an eternity, and yet it was at most only a few moments as bright light slowly filled James’ vision.

It ended as quickly as it began, but while Ida only looked slightly disheveled, James had rivulets of sweat dripping down his face, and was panting.

“What’s wrong brother, tying down a woman too much for you?” Donald called from over in his place in line, though his voice shook as he called over to him.

It was clear that all of them were more than a little shocked at their father’s will, but why their youngest brother, the oddest of them all, should be given the obvious means to surpass all of them, was beyond any reasoning they could fathom.

Humphrey ignored Donald, and handed James his own gray silken handkerchief from his the breast pocket of his coat.

“Thank you.” James’ voice rasped, as he slowly stood, even though he felt as though he might vomit at any moment.

Ida was still holding his hand, and when he stole a glance at her, saw that she had miraculously changed from the fresh-faced calm composure he had seen before, to looking as though she hadn’t slept in days.

“Lady Ida, would you like to please take a seat?” James managed, though he didn’t feel all too steady himself.

“I am not a ‘Lady’, Master. I am your Servicer.”

“Every woman should be referred to as a ‘Lady’ regardless of her station.” James uttered before realizing he had spoken it. He wasn’t in the habit of expressing his ideals openly, and he could sense his brother’s sharing looks behind his back, which irritated him hastily.

Humphrey procured a chair for Ida, and James leaned casually against his father’s desk as he took a moment to catch his breath.

After another minute of feeling himself slowly come back down to normal, James turned to stare at his brothers whom were all staring at him with varied expressions.

Clarence looked intensely serious- almost as though he were piecing together the most troublesome of puzzles, Donald looked a mixture of jealousy and bitterness, Kent, Angus, and Wesley looked pale with shock, and Edward looked indignantly angry.

“We’ve all heard what our father has done with us. Should we say our farewells here for good, or shall we feign an interest in coming back here for the Winter Solstice celebrations?” James’ voice was normally dry and composed, as he would make witty but scathing remarks however; his voice warbled now as he spoke. His body felt… different, and he was desperately trying to chase away the foreign feeling.

“Come brother, I think I speak for all of us when I say we are all too curious as to what will come of you now to say we do not want to keep in touch.” Edward snipped haughtily.

“Very well then. If you will excuse us, we will retire now to discuss my travel plans that had been delayed for the day.” James stood straight again, pushing himself away from his father’s desk, and offering his hand to Ida, who’s own hand had cooled considerably compared to before.

They gracefully exited the chamber, and James said nothing until they had descended down to the 3rd floor in the East wing by his bedchamber. When the last of the whispering scullery maids had made themselves scarce, James released Ida’s hand, and rounded to face her fully in the shadowed hall.

“I have questions for you.” James’ voice was steely, and his blue eyes began to turn icy as he studied Ida’s face slowly.

Ida curtsied, and slowly rose back up, unaffected by his shift in mannerisms.

“Anything, Master.”

James folded his arms over his chest as he stared at Ida closely. She was looking less weary than she had after the vows, and when she met his gaze, James felt his heart once again leap to his throat.

The gold flecks in her eyes seemed to flash on their own, and she had a light dusting of freckles across her nose that somehow made her seem less like another anonymous servant, and more like… a person.

“Do you know why my father purchased you to be my Servicer?” He asked his voice low.

“I do my Lord. However, would you not prefer to carry on this discussion behind closed doors?” Ida asked lowering her gaze from his.

James begrudgingly turned towards his bedroom door. It was his place of solitude. His one and only space of privacy and comfort, and aside from 3 separate occasions, no one had entered his room without his permission.

Perhaps that was why, as James pressed the latch down and pushed the door, his hand shook.

Upon entering, he stared at his toes, trying to hide the small blush that was entering his cheeks, but after several long seconds he couldn’t contain his curiosity, he raised his sights to Ida, and found himself momentary stunned at her expression.

She stared around his room with such emotion, her mouth slightly agape, and traces red around her eyes.

James’ room had stone climbing up approximately 3 feet off the ground, before another 7 feet of white washed walls that he had painted a rich blue himself. He had thick white linen curtains, and 3 large windows lining the longest wall of his room.

In front of one, perched on a brass tripod, was a brass telescope, and along the window ledges were other navigational tools he had collected over the years.

A fireplace was to his right, and his dark mahogany 4-poster bed with his deep blue coverlet and crisp white sheets pointed to it from its opposite wall. Beside the door were several bookcases stuffed full of maps, and nautical books, with the occasional trades or military strategy text.

“Are you going to keep standing in the doorway or would you like to come in?” James quipped, feeling somehow incredibly raw and vulnerable.

Coming back to her senses, Ida blinked rapidly, and stepped into the room. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and a pleasantly cool breeze rolled in from one of the windows left ajar. In the Southern Kingdom, winters were far less treacherous than their Northern neighbor’s. So despite it being February, it was a mild weathered day.

James closed the door behind Ida, and as he opened his mouth to repeat his question, found that he couldn’t get any words out as he noticed one of the items that was holding Ida’s attention, was his telescope.

“Have you ever seen one of these before?” He asked instead of his original question.

Ida nodded, and stepped closer to it as though pulled by some mysterious gravity.

“A long… long time ago. Before… well. Before many things, my father used to chart the stars. He could tell the weather for the year, and the tides. He used to say the secret to achieving harmony in the world was following the instructions of the sky.” She seemed completely lost to a memory, and without thinking she began to reach her hand up to one of the brass knobs, before James cleared his throat.

Ida dropped her hand, and turned back to James, slowly mastering her expression.

“I apologize Master. I must be more unsteadied than I realized after our bonding. I believe you had questions for me.”

James closed the door, and turned to her, his hands clasped behind his back.

“I do not feel my usual self either. Is that normal after the bonding ceremony?” He asked tightly.

“Yes my Lord.”

“How long until I feel normal again?”

“Depending on our bond my Lord, you may never quite feel normal again.” Ida answered here eyes dutifully cast to the ground as she answered.

“I beg your pardon? Why would I not return to myself?” The disgruntled young Lord demanded his tone rising.

“A Servicer’s bond to their master can come with some of the deepest magicks. If we have bonded as deeply as possible, there is the chance that you and I are tuned to each other so finely that we will never be without connection.”

James gaped openly, then pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to sort through everything he had learned from his tutors regarding Servicer’s.

He knew they were bonded to their Masters and Mistresses until one of them died, and he knew that they had the ability of inhuman speed and absorbing knowledge beyond what any human, beast, or Fey, could fathom. He also knew that different connections delivered different benefits. Some Servicer’s could tell where you were any time day or night, while some shared thoughts, and in the most powerful of cases, they could see and speak through one another.

“Do you already know what level we are connected at?” He began slowly rubbing his index finger across his lower lip-, as was his habit when deep in thought.

“More will become clear with time and circumstances, but as of this moment, I can sense your emotions.” Ida’s hands curled and uncurled at her side against her skirts.

“Really? What is that like? Having your emotions, and my own in you?” James demanded startled.

“Confusing. I know I feel scared, uncertain, and alone. Then again, from what I can tell, you feel the same, only… you feel hurt and angry more than I do.”

James felt as though she had pummeled him in his stomach.

“Master, I do not mean you distress… I am here to help you achieve whatever goals you wish.” Ida curtsied deeply, and even bowed her head when she straightened. James was disarmed momentarily before realizing this had to be a manipulation on her part to make herself seem less threatening to him at having such private information about him.

“You’re here to help me?” James repeated, his tone hard.

“Yes.”

“To do whatever I bid?”

“To do whatever is in your best interest, yes.”

“That isn’t necessarily the same thing.” He let out an angry sigh. The Servicer didn’t even bother to hide that particular loophole.

“Tell me this then; is it in my best interest to get myself a bloody ship, and send you back to where you bloody well came from?”

He was certain he’d hurt her. Certain her eyes would well up with tears of marred feelings at his attack and rejection, but instead she met his gaze with a cold expression and responded with;

“That sounds like a perfect plan to me, Master.”