Chapter Three #2
“We do not need to be seen at all times,” Alain said. “We alarm the sailors when we speak to our master below. But Lord Peter said that we should try to befriend you.”
“I’m sorry, did you say you have a master?” Will asked, utterly lost.
Alain’s smile turned beatific. “Our demon. He is beautiful and vast, and he lies below, watching us. We are blessed to serve him.”
Wes quietly swore never to ask about Alain’s demon again. “Right. Good for you.”
“You are doing a good job for a man who hasn’t been a valet before,” Alain said, guiding Wes into Ned and Peter’s rooms. They were considerably bigger than Delauney’s, with a connecting chamber for servants and spacious windows.
Peter, Duck, the baby, and Orla sat on a bench with a book, too engrossed to do more than glance up as Wes and Alain passed.
Despite behaving like a slightly malevolent ghost, Alain was clearly an exceptional servant.
They had a chart of daily tasks, which they handed to Wes while they showed him how to press and lay out clothes for the evening.
They walked Wes through their chores while Ned and his family drifted around them, pretending they didn’t exist. By the end of the night, Wes felt a little invisible, too.
He shook off the disquieting feeling as he stepped into the main room between Delauney and Ned’s chambers with a shudder.
“We will meet you in the morning,” Alain said. “Two hours before dawn.”
“I appreciate the help,” Wes said, even though he wasn’t sure if that was true. Alain’s little smile broadened.
“We haven’t had a friend in a very long time,” they said. “We look forward to bonding with you in the typical fashion of living creatures.”
“Yeah,” Wes said. “Can’t wait.”
He fled into Delauney’s room, trying not to look like he was scared out of his skin. Delauney sat back in his chair at the desk, brows raised.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said. “Was it Alain?”
“I could have used a warning,” Wes said, keeping his voice down in case Alain was listening at the door.
“Oh, Alain’s harmless once you get used to them.
” Delauney dropped a paper in one of the crates.
“Peter explained it all to me. They’ve been in his family as a retainer for centuries, if you can believe it.
They’re something of a... colony. There are around four or five people out there with the same demon, you see.
There used to be more, but the way Peter describes it, they’re all in each other’s heads so much that they’re not really individual people anymore. ”
“I didn’t know that demons could do that,” Wes said.
Delauney shrugged. “Most can’t, I think. This one must be special. Whatever the case, the various Oculuses out there seem to be perfectly pleasant people.”
“Well, this Oculus wants to be my friend,” Wes said, opening the clothes chest. “Does this mean I’m befriending five people at once?”
“Lucky you,” Delauney said, and laughed when Wes glared at him. “Try not to think too hard about it. You’ll be up all night, otherwise. Are you putting out my clothes? You don’t have to.”
“Alain might object.” Wes pulled out a floral vest. “What about this?”
“For a day at sea? Why not? Pair it with the green jacket and I’ll be a walking garden. Here, I’ll help.”
Wes would have told Delauney that nobles weren’t supposed to help their valets, but he didn’t have the heart for it. He moved over, letting Delauney do half the work for him as the ship gently turned from Staria, heading toward the scattered islands of Diabolos.
***
DELAUNEY WASN’T USED to quiet mornings. Instead of scrambling to find clean clothes from the ever-looming piles, Delauney walked across a clean floor to a tidy clothing rack.
Wes offered to shave him with the look of a man being held by knife-point, but at least the razor was sharp when Delauney politely declined.
Everything had a place, and without a morning of frantic fumbling, Delauney actually sat down for breakfast.
It was almost irritating, if he were being honest. His parents and brother had suggested laying everything out in advance for years, but Delauney just couldn’t find the time to do it.
When time was already a problem, taking more out to save for the future was impossible.
He was a man in constant debt to time, and no amount of list-making and planning seemed to help.
Alain kept Wes hopping for the next few days.
They seemed delighted at the prospect of making a friend, even though it was, so far as Delauney could tell, a little one-sided.
They even showed Wes a painting another member of their colony had made.
Delauney had only seen the painting one time, which was more than enough for any man.
He knew when Wes had seen it, because Wes had slumped onto his cot with a cry of, how many eyes can one demon have?
After about a week, Delauney pulled Wes aside.
“I might be a touch too submissive to be waited on so efficiently,” Delauney said at last, after a good few seconds of nervous dithering.
Wes stared at him. “I can’t be a valet and lounge about all day, can I?”
“Maybe if I did some of the work with you,” Delauney suggested. “In the evening, at least. I simply don’t see how I can sit there while you do everything for me.”
Wes raised a brow. “Are you a service submissive? Is that why it bothers you?”
“No. I just feel like a useless lump while you’re fluttering around being productive.”
Wes moved closer, glancing furtively behind him. “De Burre may not approve. People don’t like it if they think a sailor is taking advantage of an officer.”
“You’re not taking advantage of me,” Delauney said, but he understood Wes’ point.
As a submissive, rumor had already put Delauney in bed with practically everyone, and it wasn’t out of the question to assume that he’d been led astray by a confident sailor.
With Wes’ reputation on Lennox’s ship, he had to be careful.
“We’ll be discreet,” Delauney said.
Wes hesitated another long, agonizing breath before he nodded. “Just don’t punish me if you find it isn’t to your liking.”
It turned out that menial labor was not to Delauney’s liking.
He’d muddled through well enough on his own before, mainly by buying new clothes as soon as the old ones became too dirty to wear, but he kept missing steps and forgetting things.
Or, as he tried to explain to a frustrated Wes, he had to pause a step to figure out another step, which led to yet another.
“Look at it this way,” Delauney said at last. “I want to clean the window, but the wood is chipped on the frame, which builds up dust. So of course, I’ll need to fix the frame.
But to do that, I’ll need to make a work table, and a work table requires me to move the desk.
But if I move the desk, I’ll find a letter that needs my attention, perhaps, or an equation that hasn’t been solved yet.
And I’ll need to solve it so that it can go in its place and I can move the desk properly. ”
Wes leaned against the desk in question. “There’s a logic to it, I suppose.”
“Which is why it’s much easier to simply ignore the window altogether,” Delauney continued.
“And that’s how the piles happen,” Wes said. “Just don’t think about the frame.”
Delauney didn’t often have unpleasant impulses, but he had to suppress the urge to push Wes into the window and make him stare at the crack until it did bother him.
He knew it was pointless. He’d tried to explain it to his parents and his tutors a thousand times, but the consensus was always the same; Delauney was simply too lazy to live.
“I can’t help but think about it,” Delauney said.
Wes certainly did love to stare at a fellow. He stared at Delauney now, his gaze sharp and intense, burrowing under Delauney’s skin.
“So you’re saying that your thoughts are like...” Wes tapped his foot as he spoke. “...like a house full of puppies, and you’re trying to put them all in a line.”
“And they won’t stay still,” Delauney said.
“Does anything help them stay still?”
“Very powerful drugs from a brothel owner in Diabolos or a dominant in Staria,” Delauney said quickly. “I’d rather not do the former, and the latter just retired.”
“Well, I’m not a dominant or a brothel owner.”
“A pity,” Delauney said. “You’d make a killing if you were both. Even your brother doesn’t have the kind of look that can freeze a man on the spot.”
At first, Delauney wondered if he’d gone too far. Wes’ face shuttled between expressions, going from wounded to resentful and surly, before landing on exhaustion. “I’m not my brother. He wouldn’t have landed himself before a military council.”
“And I’m not my brother,” Delauney said. “At least he has the sense to uphold the name and manage our lands. Not that I want to. I’m quite happy being a second son.”
Wes frowned. “Are you?”
Delauney felt as though Wes had just stuck out a foot to trip him, but he couldn’t imagine why.
“Naturally,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be? In a few years, I can retire on a nice pension in a house in Duciel, and no one can pressure me to have children or carry on a title.”
“Except you could have retired five years ago,” Wes said. “You’re already a career officer.”
“No one ever retires on time,” Delauney said, trying to sound flippant. Wes didn’t look convinced. “Can you write a letter for me? I can have it sent off when we dock at Hekate’s Eye.”
Wes shrugged and sat at the desk. He was a tidy man, Delauney noticed. He straightened his paper just so, adjusting the inkwell to align with it, and his writing posture was perfect.