Months had passed, and we were into a brand new year. Spring was on the horizon, and, as usual, it was an awkward time of the year. The hardened ice that had coated the land started melting under longer exposure to the sunlight. Everything turned squelchy and muddy and wet. The grainy paste of cold and dark soil splatted out of the way as the rolling wheels ploughed neat lines on the slurry road.

I was on my way to Maiencour. A lonely passenger inside a horse-driven carriage. I leaned my shoulder against the interior of the cabin and looked out the window, mindlessly watching the passing scenery of white and brown and occasional green. I had the window open to let in some fresh air, which chilled the wooden compartment that had been bombarded for hours by the early spring sun.

I liked the sensation of the four wheels rolling and the subsequent vibration that traveled through the carriage’s frame. It assured me that things were in motion. Movement was good because, in general, there was an end state, or a position, associated with it. Something definite. Milestones, so to say.

One of the wheels rolled over something small yet hard. It was probably a stone buried under the compacted soil but now exposed thanks to the ground thawing. That little bump scattered the sheets that I had laid on my lap onto the carriage’s shaking floor. Grumbling, I bent low and picked them up.

A compiled summary of the reports that we had received from the towns and villages of the Roseland. We, the Baron’s Councilmen, were glad to hear nothing extraordinary had happened during the cold winter. Of course, some people fell ill and died. Some walked over the thin ice and drowned in a frozen lake. Some huts collapsed under the weight of overnight snow. Some idiot set fire to his house. But, those were menial incidents that could easily be handled by local authorities. Overall, nothing too serious as to require the Baron’s attention.

And a copy of the letter from Seigneur Montclam. Being the first-stop distributor of all our products out of the Roseland, the Seigneur took it upon himself to provide us the market outlook. According to the Seigneur, we were likely to face increased demand for our rose-related items this year. Last summer, as Seigneur Montclam wrote, some Duke in the far west of the Kingdom had mixed our rose-scented oil with an unnecessarily extravagant soap formula, which then went on to become widely sought after by noble ladies across the Kingdom. Scented soaps had always been popular for ages. Still, for this particular year, the Seigneur anticipated our oils and perfumes’ popularity would break through the roof.

And a sheet on which I made notes while we brainstormed the celebration of Anna’s tenth birthday. The father wanted something big and grand, whereas the mother wished for something delicate and elegant. The cook wanted to go all out, spices raining and pots and pans blazing. The solicitor wanted that we arrange, and publicly announce, Anna’s betrothal as she was approaching the age of no longer a child. I proposed inviting a big circus. With all sorts of animals and beasts and acrobats and incredible people belching fires and swallowing swords and sticking their head into a lion’s mouth and stuff. Sadly, the idea was booed and dismissed by everyone. When asked if she wanted something in particular, Anna said she needed a gold statue of her so people could worship her as a goddess. In translating her silent words, I shuddered at this display of Anna’s grossly inflated ego. Thankfully, the treasurer was on my side and profusely objected to this idea. A sensible man, he was.

I must have dozed off. A small knock on the carriage’s door woke me up. Looking out the window, I could see the sky was getting dark. Still, a bit of sunlight lingered. The scenery included the familiar sight of Maiencour’s plaza, and it wasn’t moving. I had arrived.

Yawning and stretching from a long ride, I got off the carriage. I nodded to and thanked my fellow of the manor for driving me all the way. The man smiled and went off to get some rest. I had planned this to be a three-day trip, so he would have a full day tomorrow free. I briefly envied the man.

I entered the inn that had accommodated me whenever I came to Maiencour. Inside was brightly lit golden by candles and the huge fireplace at the stony wall. All the tables were occupied by bulky men drinking and dining and arguing. It was the first week of the month, which meant Maiencour was hosting the woodworkers’ conference for this week. Up to a few weeks ago, the first days of the month had been for masonry, but to everyone’s surprise, they were the first to complete the task of compiling a standardized glossary. The slot had since been taken over by the woodworkers, who now filled the taverns and inns of Maiencour after a hard day’s session of arguing among themselves.

Men recognized me, and many hands waved for me to join them at their tables. I smiled, greeted those I knew by names, shook hands, and made a gesture pointing upwards. I quickly ran upstairs and dumped my stuff in the room reserved for me.

When I came down, men were still noisy but in a pleasant way. Some were continuing the unfinished arguments from earlier today. Some were exchanging funny anecdotes from their respective towns and villages. Some were just bragging and toasting. The innkeeper fetched a spare stool from the cellar and flopped it down at a small wooden table by the fireplace. Men there welcomed me and made some space. I sat there and exchanged pleasantries and began to stuff myself with the roasted chicken and boiled potatoes and pickled cabbage. Somebody pushed a tankard full of bitter ale my way. I noticed the eyes, testing yet expectant. Yeah, although I was nearly fourteen, which technically qualified me as a man, I was small and looked eleven. To the eyes of these men, who had seen me totting around the Barony ever since I was a mere toddler, I still was a little kid. This ale would be fun. But, heck, I wasn’t a kid anymore. ‘I can handle this,’ I thought.

###

The next morning I sat at a corner of the spacious hall. I listened to professional men arguing over a specific word’s definition. Something about the act of splitting a block of wood parallel to its… whatever the heck they meant. Woodworking wasn’t my specialty, and I couldn’t understand half of the things that were being said. Besides, I had a splitting headache thanks to last night’s alcohol.

My headache got better around noon, and I went and had a nice lunch with the mayor of Maiencour at his home. After that, we took a stroll through the town and headed towards his office.

“See that?” the mayor pointed at a new structure under construction. “We are building a larger hall that can be sectioned into two. Once complete, we should be able to host two groups a week instead of one.”

“That’s splendid!”

“And there,” he pointed down the dirt road, and I could see two wooden buildings being worked on. “We would need more rooms, so naturally, we are building more.”

Overall, I was satisfied. My project to unify and standardize glossaries used by craftsmen was going smoothly. In addition, the whole thing had spawned further initiatives that looked promising.

“I am getting a whole lot of refreshing suggestions,” the mayor said as we sat down at the desk in his office. I noticed many sheets on the desk. They detailed the minutes of each conference session the town hosted. Maiencour not only hosted the conferences but also provided its men and women to keep the minutes of each session recorded on paper. Those would then be copied and distributed, and also archived. Needless to say, the mayor of this small farm town suddenly found himself in need of a lot of literate staff. I could sense it. Maiencour was changing.

“Many craftsmen feel they need something more,” the mayor continued, tapping on the sheets spread on the desk. “The fruits of your little experiment in Clermans had spread across the Barony, which I hear have greatly improved how skills and knowledge are passed down. And now, men of crafts and their apprentices feel the need to have some…,” he searched for the right word, ”some form of organization of their own?”

“A governing body of their profession, so to say?” I suggested.

“Exactly. A union, you might call such. Or an association-,”

“Societe des blah blah.”

“That’s good, too.”

I smiled. Hell yeah! Men were talking about forming guilds. Hansa or whatever was equivalent. Progress!

“I like the idea,” I leaned in over the desk, smiling. “An autonomous governing body, unto which His Lordship could delegate certain powers and duties.”

“Well, that is taking a step further than what they had been thinking, but yes, ultimately, that would be ideal.”

“And I assume Maiencour wishes to be home of those… societies? Or unions as you called them.” I ventured the question.

“Their chambers, yes. With His Lordship’s blessing, of course.”

“I will see what I can do,” I said to the mayor. My brain was spinning fast. “But I must say the upkeep cost of such a collective shall mainly be borne by its members. The Baron would, however, provide subsidies and, if needed, make up for deficits.”

“Fine, then. I shall start discussing the matter with-,”

We were interrupted by a noise coming from outside. It was the urgent sound of a horse coming to a stop from a full-speed gallop, followed by a distressed neighing. Somebody dismounted in great haste, and I could hear footsteps entering the town’s administration building. Within seconds, the wooden door to the mayor’s office flung open.

A young man stood at the open door. I instantly recognized him as my fellow. A servant of the Baron. He was the fastest rider among those who worked in the manor, and now he was all pale and sweating and huffing and puffing. I immediately knew what it meant. Something had happened. Something I should be notified of.

“René!”

My heart sank.

“Has something happened to Lady Anna? Is she well?”

“The Lady is very well, although she is now very distressed,” the man shook his head. I thought his eyes were watery. “The Majordome! He’s collapsed!”

My mind went blank. I retched and threw up all over the place. No, please. Not the old man!

###

By the time I arrived at the Baron’s manor, it was already well past midnight. Still, I could see the flickering light of the lit candles and fireplaces escaping through windows. As soon as my carriage stopped, I jumped off and ran inside.

People were awake even in this hour, which indicated the seriousness of the situation. I ran up the stairs and came to the hallway that led to the Majordome’s chamber. They were there, standing, leaning against the wall. The maids and the servants. And even the cook. The chief maid was pacing back and forth, with sleeping Anna clinging onto her. The faces turned my way, and they were grim. The cook hurried to my side and led me to the closed door to the chamber.

“We found him unconscious in the garden. Just like that,” the man was saying.

“Was he hurt? Has a physician seen him?”

The cook nodded, then knocked on the door.

“Milord, the lad has come.”

I quickly turned around, meeting the eyes again. It was clear to me. They were readying themselves for what would come next. I checked on Anna. She was sleeping, her head resting on the chief maid’s shoulder. I could see the rosy cheeks were stained by streams of tears that had dried not too long ago.

The door opened, and I stepped in. The two La Rose were there by the bedside, their concerned eyes watching the old man tucked in under a thick blanket. The solicitor and the treasurer were by the fireplace, which was burning intensely to keep the room warm for the night that still was cold. They greeted me with silent nods. The expressions on their faces told me enough.

“René,” the Baroness took a few quick steps and hugged me tight.

The Baron, with sealed lips, gestured for me to come by his side. My two colleagues joined from the fireplace and gave me a brief rundown of the situation.

“The young Lady found him in the garden,” the solicitor started. “She ran in wailing and crying, the poor child.”

“Oh, my!”

“It took us an unfortunate while to realize what Lady Anna was trying to convey…,” the man trailed off.

I felt terrible. Poor Anna. In all practical sense, the Majordome was her beloved grandpa. And to be the one to find him like that… Oh, God, and the terrifying frustration she must have felt when nobody understood the desperate flailing of a mute child!

“The old man has since regained consciousness, thankfully,” the solicitor continued, “he is resting now.”

“So, the Majordome is not hurt?”

“No,” the Baron answered my question with a weak voice, “but the physician has said we are approaching the time. He has been… old for long.”

His Lordship then gently tapped on the sleeping man’s frail shoulders.

“My friend, the boy is here.”

The Majordome’s eyelids opened slowly. At first, his eyes were murky and weak. They were unfocused and tired. But the brightness returned as soon as he saw the Baron’s face. The old man mumbled something inaudible, then tried to prop himself up, a command to which his failing body refused to comply.

“No, please. You do not need to sit up,” the Baron gently put his hand on the Majordome’s shoulder, then he motioned for me to come closer. “My good man, René is here. You have asked for him.”

I inched forward with trembling steps. I was scared of losing this friend. He was my mentor, my teacher, a friend, and a colleague. Yes, he was old. Although I had always known this day would eventually come, it felt so sudden. I wasn’t prepared, but then again, who ever is?

The old man tensed up, trying to focus and muster up the strength to speak. When he finally opened his wrinkled mouth, his voice quivered and wheezed.

“René, I am dying.”

I lowered myself and took both his hands in mine. I couldn’t speak.

“But now you are here, I am fulfilled,” he said, then tried to smile. “I leave in good faith, René.”

The Majordome ever so slowly shook my hands. Then he asked for an alone time with the two La Rose and the chief maid. My two colleagues and I bid our final farewell to the Majordome and left the room.

“He is asking for you,” I told the chief maid and took sleeping Anna from the woman’s burdened arms. Anna must have felt the motion. She opened her eyes, saw my face, and clung onto me, and buried her face into my neck. I felt hot droplets of liquid rolling down over my skin as Anna wept. She knew what was happening to the Majordome.

Hours that felt like an eternity had passed. It was around dawn. I was slumped against the wall, with Anna still clinging onto me like a small monkey. She had fallen asleep again, for which I was grateful.

The chamber’s door creaked open, and the Baron stepped out with a solemn face, followed by weeping Baroness and her chief maid. The good old man was gone.

###

Following days, I busied myself arranging the funeral. I commissioned a humble yet secretly elegant coffin, sent men out to prepare the ground for burial, and discussed the menus with the cook for the foods to be served to the attendees.

We also wrote many letters to many people, for the Majordome had been respected by many. Had the Baron been a king, the Majordome would have been the Chancellor. So, naturally, many distinguished figures of the Roseland had been well acquainted with the deceased. Indeed, they would wish to come and say their goodbyes. Heck, even Seigneur Montclam somehow heard the news and immediately sent us a notice telling he would be attending in person.

While writing such letters, I discovered the Majordome had no immediate family.

“Oh, he never married,” the Baron commented upon my inquiry. I felt a great shame, and my face reddened. During all those years of our friendship, all those talks the old man and I had, yet I had never once bothered to ask the man himself about his family.

“If I remember correctly, he does have a niece. About my age-,” said the Baron, then he corrected himself. “Ah, my bad. She passed away when the plague swept across the land. I remember now. He was gone for some days to take care of her burial.”

“So… there is no one?” I asked.

“There is I,” answered the Baron,” I consider him a family. He was a father to me, so to say,” then he ruffled up my hair. “I do hope I am to you, too.”

“I am indebted, milord.”

After that, the Baron focused on grieving while his subordinates took care of the funeral arrangement.

For days, Anna was distant. She did hang around in my general vicinity, but she didn’t bug me nor made any unreasonable demands, which was unusual. From time to time, she wept and shed tears, and occasionally, I caught her looking at me with saddened eyes.

“Is something wrong?” I asked her at last. I wanted to encourage the child to talk about her feelings.

Anna sighed and made a series of hand gestures.

‘Death makes me feel sorrow.’

“Of course. After all, a person dear to us has left us.”

I studied her troubled face for some minutes. ‘Yes, it is hard for you, isn’t it?’ Anna, a goddess, who had been immortal throughout the history of this realm. A complete novice when it came to dealing with the death of a beloved. Welp, of course, she knew mortals died left and right. But someone as close to her as the Majordome passing away? This was personal, right in her face.

Little Anna’s face distorted. Her lips quivered, and she was about to burst into tears.

“Go on,” I urged her, “let it out. It is healthy for your mind.”

She shook her head. I sensed something different other than just grief. Fear, maybe, which puzzled me.

“What’s wrong? Why are you upset?”

‘Will you die, too?’

“Eventually, yes,” I nodded, “but don’t you worry too much. It won’t be my first time.”

Anna rushed and hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe.

The burial went without a single problem. There was an impossibly tall tree in the back garden, which the Baron told us had been planted by the Majordome himself many decades ago. Now, the old man rested there underneath the tree, watching the Baron’s manor and the people within. A monolith was still in the making, so for now, the site was rather vacant apart from the freshly filled mound of dirt amidst the early spring’s green. Men and women who had come to say farewell silently watched the Baron sowing the finest rose seed of the Roseland. It was a symbolic gesture. ‘Here, a rose.’ It was the greatest honor the Baron could bestow. His old friend was now elevated to ‘of the Roseland.’

I myself was bitter. I had hoped Eris would come down in person and take the Majordome away herself. But she never came. To the goddess of death, this was just an old man departing the world. There was nothing remarkable about this particular death that required Eris’ special attention. No extraordinary circumstances. A celestial being as an attendee, yes, sure, but other than that, just an ordinary everyday funeral. That, I thought in hindsight, was actually good so in its own way. Nevertheless, I secretly hoped Eris would come pick me up in person when my time came. She should do at least that much for me.

###

We at the Baron’s manor went back to our respective tasks and duties. Life was back to normal. To my surprise, the workings of the manor had not come to a screeching halt. Maids did their things, and the servants did theirs. Things that needed to be cleaned got cleaned, and larder kept being replenished. It was as if the Majordome leaving us had no impact at all. I, though, for an inexplicable reason, had become busier. They kept coming to me to bug me with menial things. The stairwell needs to be fixed? Go ahead. We need to pay Master Ado for the vegetables? Fine, I will talk to the treasurer. Horses need their sheath cleaned? Be my guest. Want me to confirm the next week’s schedule? Let me see. Oh, a maid is pregnant? Congratulations! Let’s ease her workload a bit. It went on and on and on.

When the chief maid brought a shy young maid to me, it was only then that I began to guess what was going on. In front of me stood a young, healthy-looking woman in her early twenties, fidgeting and blushing and nervous. I had to search my memory for I couldn’t quite remember who she was.

“Of course, you aren’t familiar with her. She has been on probation,” the chief of the maids explained.

“I see…,” I trailed off. Now what?

“You see? Today is supposed to be the day the late Majordome, may he rest in peace, decided whether she continues to work for His Lordship.”

“I see,” I nodded, but in truth, I had no idea where it was getting at.

“Well?” the chief maid put her hands on her waist and waited.

The younger woman eyed me expectantly. Then it dawned on me.

“Are you implying I have a say in the matter?”

“Of course,” the chief maid became impatient, “who else?”

I studied the maid on probation. I really knew nothing about her.

“Would it be fair, though? I am afraid I have had no observation whatsoever to base any judgment,” said I. I felt terrible seeing her trying to appear calm. I continued, “It would make sense to do another probation, but then again, it would be prolonging the period of reduced pay for her service.”

“That wouldn’t be fair,” the chief maid agreed. “I can vouch. She is good.”

The younger woman’s face beamed for a second, and it was rather contagious. I smiled a little.

“Well, I do know for certain your words are solid. That settles it then.”

The chief maid, too, smiled and congratulated the newly hired maid. The woman thanked and bowed and was quite excited.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“Helena, Majordome,” the woman answered.

“Elena?”

“Oui, Majordome.’

“Helena’s been around only a month, so of course she does make mistakes here and there,” the chief maid injected, “but that’s to bee expected. She will be good in no time.”

“Splendid!” I nodded, satisfied. If the chief maid approved this woman, that would mean-, hang on a sec!

I was stunned. I blinked and shook my head to focus. When I came to, the two women had already gone, and I stood there like an idiot.

I then brushed it off as a simple misunderstanding of a newly hired. For the following week or so, nobody else addressed me as such, which further solidified my assessment. I still was ‘that René boy’ to most of the manor’s crew. They were my bros and sis. Uncles and aunties to me. Helena, the new hire, on the other hand, treated me with such politeness and respect as if I held a position above her. I always felt a bit awkward dealing with her.

One day morning, though, Helena lost her cool. She rushed into the library, sweating and panting. I was with Anna, reading a book together as a part of her morning lesson.

“There is a fairy in the young Lady’s bedroom!” announced Helena in a panicked voice.

I put down the book, sighed, and scowled at Anna. She played innocent.

“A little bit bluish and sparkling wings?” I asked the bumbling maid.

“Yes, indeed. I went in to change the sheets and found the thing tied to the bed’s leg by the thread! Oh, it was horrible! It was cursing me, and it was so mad!”

“That is the toothfairy,” I explained, “a stupid one who doesn’t learn from experience.”

Anna grinned and bared her teeth for the maid to see. There was a vacancy amidst ivory whites. I grabbed her wrist and squeezed.

“Milady, you will return the coins you have taken. And you will release the poor thing.”

Anna twisted out of my grasp, made a rude gesture, and escaped from the library, leaving me and confused Helena alone. I sighed again.

“Well, sorry about that,” I told the rookie maid, “this isn’t the first time Lady Anna has caught the toothfairy.”

“She has done this before?”

“And likely will do it again…,” then I counted the number in my head, “three or four more times, I guess. Lady Anna still has a few baby teeth left.”

Perhaps my nonchalant reaction helped. Helena calmed down and thought about what she had just heard.

“So, erm, what do I do about the fairy?”

“Oh, just give it something to eat and set it free. The fairy knows the way out.”

“That’s it?”

“If you want, you can ask it to have a look in your mouth. It gives excellent advice on dental hygiene-,” I then realized what I might be implying. I waved my hands, trying to take it back, “not saying you have bad teeth, though.”

Helena stood there for a moment, and I could feel her gaze running up and down on me. At last, she spoke again. She was back to her usual calm demeanor, but with a slight appreciating nod.

“You truly are as they say,” said the maid, “you really do know what to do.”

“Pardonez?”

“Never mind. I will get back to my work.”

###

By this point, even I became aware that I had indeed inherited the old man's job. The transition had been so seamless and smooth so that by the time I realized the immense responsibility, it was already too late. I ran the Baron's house. I was the one making sure cogwheels of the La Rose's manor did not grind to a halt. Welp, I had, from time to time, briefly looked after things when the Baron and the Majordome were away. So taking care of things wasn't too new to me. I was, however, in denial. 'Surely, His Lordship would soon hire somebody fit for the role?' was my thinking. I would soon learn that I was wrong.

It was a late afternoon session with the Baron and his Council. We loosely sat around in the large room that was the Baron's court, and were discussing various topics. His Lordship sat in an ornate chair and made a series of decisions or demanded we look into certain things. To his left, the Baroness sat quietly and occasionally provided her womanly views. The good old Majordome used to stand to His Lordship's right, going through the agendas and keeping the discussions moving. But now, his place was vacant for the first time in decades. The Baron, understandably, struggled with the unfamiliar absence of his right-hand man, and would, from time to time, fall into a brief silence.

"-and the craftsmen say the structure is no longer safe," I was in the middle of reporting about an orphanage somewhere in the southern part of the Roseland. The town's mayor had written to the Baron, requesting His Lordship's material help. I quickly read through the rest of the letter before continuing.

"It seems the heavy snow during the winter has unfortunately overburdened the beams. It is advised that the building be taken down and completely rebuilt."

"Won't cost too much, I expect," the treasurer chimed in, "if I remember correctly, the orphanage was quite small."

I rechecked the numbers. It was true.

"It says only a dozen children and three adults, including the headmistress her two daughters."

The Baron frowned.

"Where would they stay in the meantime?"

"That is the issue, milord. The mayor says his town has just enough to provide for either a new orphanage or for paying folks to accommodate a child or two each. But not enough for both," I summarized, "hence a request for Your Lordship's generosity."

"If I may," the solicitor raised his hand, "I would suggest that Your Lordship provide for both the new house and the stay for the while. That way, we ensure the unfortunate children are not mistreated by some reluctant hosts."

"We could book an inn and keep the children in one place. A short visit by one of us would let the folks know we are keeping an eye on the orphans," the treasurer suggested. I thought that sounded good. The kids would be treated well.

"Very well," the Baron approved with a satisfied nod. "Majordome, please proceed with necessary arrangements."

We all exchanged glances. The Baroness mouthed 'Oh, dear,' and put a gentle hand over her husband's. The solicitor cleared his throat.

"May the good old man rest in peace," said the man, kindly reminding His Lordship that the Majordome was no longer with us.

"Rest in peace," the rest of us mumbled in unison.

"Oh, please do forgive me. My bad," said the Baron calmly, much to our puzzlement. "I meant to address the successor."

His eyes were boring into me.

"René, my lad. Of the Tavern. Do you remember what our late friend had said? On the day of your arrival?"

"I am afraid not, milord. I was very little then."

The nobleman smiled wide.

"I do remember. The old man had also kindly reminded me of it before passing away," he then waved me over to his side. "René, s'il te plaît."

I gasped, frozen in my seat.

Seeing me not move, the Baron stood up. He walked towards me with firm steps and stood tall before frightened me. His strong hands grabbed my arms and hoisted me straight up. My feet dangled in the air as I was carried back across the room. There, His Lordship planted me by his right side before sitting back down. The Baroness leaned sideways from her seat and extended her arm behind her husband's back. She patted me on my bottom proudly.

"Well, now then, Majordome," the Baron demanded, his head facing straight up ahead.

My colleagues were looking at me. Their faces were smiling, and heads were nodding. I felt dizzy. Shit, they had been waiting for this day. I took a deep breath. The Baroness's extended hand got hold of my left hand and squeezed. That somehow calmed my nerves. I cleared my throat and started. Our work session wasn't over. We still had a Barony to run.

"My Lord, with your permission, next in agenda is-,"

And thus I now was the Majordome. I ran the La Rose's house. I headed the Baron's council. That, on top of being the herald of a divine girl. Me, a simple lad of the Tavern!