What Makes a Monster

♱Twenty-Two♱

After the meals are prepared, I am given leave. Of course there is more to attend to. I must inspect Lord Movell's room once more, but the room is not empty when I arrive. Lord Movell is there, sitting in the ebony chair before the fire with a book in his lap. Upon seeing me, he smiles warmly.

"Lord Movell, I apologize for barging in."

"It is not an issue. I left the door open, after all," he responds with a soft laugh. He gestures for me to enter, which I do after shutting the door. "Your name is Wallace, correct?"

"Yes, My Lord. I'm honored you remember me."

"But of course, you attended to me during my last visit, and you did witness me being thrown into a wall."

I bite my lip to hold back a chuckle, at least until Lord Movell laughs, proving that I may do so as well. Nodding, I respond, "Yes, I did see that. I'm glad you were alright."

"Don't worry, such a little thing can't harm me, although I appreciate the concern." He flicks his fingers in a request to come even closer. I do, and then take a seat when he gestures for me to do so.

Nerves settle in my gut. The atmosphere is tense. I wonder if Lord Movell feels it too or I'm just being paranoid. I try my best not to squirm in place especially with his gaze fixated on me.

Act natural, just act natural, Wallie.

"I admit, there is another reason I recall you so easily," he says, causing the breath to hitch in my throat from concern. "Your accent, although clearly you attempt to cover it, I sense that you are from Chandri, are you not?"

I stiffen at the question, recalling Lord Makai's order to not speak of my memories. Lord Movell may be smiling, but something about his gaze is off. I sense he wishes for me to slip up and admit that I know more than I let on. Why else would he bring up Chandri?

"Yes, I am from Chandri," I answer, well aware that he can simply look up my previous home if he wished. It's better to tell only a small lie than a big one.

"Such an unfortunate incident. I'm guessing you were quite young when the attack happened?"

"Yes, only eight years old, My Lord. My mother and I were lucky to have escaped before the village was overtaken, although my father died bravely alongside King Baylor."

"Your father was a military man?" Lord Movell smiles. "I am sorry for your loss, but I hope you are proud. To fight for your king and country is a great honor. His death will never be forgotten by those that were saved due to his sacrifice."

Lord Movell certainly has a way with words. He gives no indication that he's trying to interrogate me. A part of me thinks I'm paranoid while another believes it's better to be paranoid than gullible. So I offer up a smile of my own, acting the part of the respectful butler, which I technically am, but in this scenario I much rather be on Lord Movell's side. His presence is cold and uncomfortable.

"Thank you, My Lord. I couldn't be more proud of him."

I'm wondering how to get out of here. I could simply state that I have other work to attend to, or I must return to my quarters. It is getting late, but as a butler to Lord Movell while he is here, it's kind of ridiculous to claim I have other duties. I'm really starting to wish someone would switch places with me. Maybe I should start being bad at my job? It seems there are no rewards by being any good!

"Your mother then, is she with you here in Vashna?" Lord Movell asks. "It must be tough to separate after such horrendous circumstances."

"No, she passed away nearly a year ago. A cousin of mine sent out recommendation letters and I managed to get a job here, although I admit I was a bit hesitant at first."