Pleased that Roxanne had appreciated his meager advice, Rivalen lowered his head in a polite bow, “I’m glad I could be of service to you, Your Highness.” And in a way, he truly was glad. His father’s approval had always been hard to come by, and instead the man was always pointing out ways that his son could improve. Rivalen knew he meant well, but it still would have been nice to hear a ‘good job’ every once in a while. So, even though he knew it shouldn’t have, Roxanne’s praise made his chest swell with pride. He was almost disappointed when she announced that they had to part ways.

[i]…Almost.[/i]

Even though he appreciated the princess’s laudatory words, Rivalen knew he wasn’t here to win her approval. He had more important things to do; things that he couldn’t do as long as she was around. So, as much as he enjoyed feeling useful, it was for the best that they let each other alone for a while. The only problem was figuring out when they were to meet again. He had no idea what ‘two on the clock’ meant but, not wanting to seem like an ignorant peasant, he wasn’t about to ask for a definition. Instead, he nodded along as if he knew exactly what the princess was talking about and prayed that he would be able to find someone who could give him a proper explanation later.

“It has been a pleasure for you, My Lady, but it has been an [i]honor[/i] for me,” Rivalen said, smiling again as he met Roxanne’s gaze. When he did this, however, he noticed her look away, averting her eyes by examining the interior of her room through a crack in the door. He blinked in confusion. Had he done something to offend her already? Slightly anxious now, he looked away from the princess as well and followed her gaze to the open door, but as it turned out, this did nothing to lessen his unease.

Rivalen’s heart skipped with a different kind of nervousness as his eyes fell on Roxanne’s room. Until this point, he had been so concerned with getting into the castle that he hadn’t felt the full weight of the responsibility he had chosen to take on. Now, looking into the princess’s bedroom, it was all suddenly very real. He was her [i]personal[/i] assistant, which meant that he would be tending to her [i]personal[/i] needs. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. He had never even stepped foot in a woman’s chambers before. Morold had always disapproved whenever he showed interest in any of the girls in the village, and they were constantly on the run from knights, so Rivalen never had a chance to try getting into a relationship with someone. That and his mother’s early passing left him with little to no knowledge about women, and now he was supposed to wait on one hand and foot. Even though it was only an act, he couldn’t banish the slight flutter in the pit of his stomach.

Rivalen forced himself to put the thought aside though as Roxanne began to speak again. He replaced his anxious expression with one of casual interest, hoping that the princess hadn’t noticed his momentary discomfort. “I must admit, you are not what I was anticipating either, Your Highness,” he said. “Before I met you, I had thought you would be a spoiled brat, born with a silver spoon in your mouth and expecting the entirety of the kingdom to bow to your wishes.” He let out a curt laugh, shaking his head as if embarrassed by his own assumption. “I’m pleased to say that you’ve far exceeded my expectations, My Lady. I’ll return with your dinner at, as you say, [i]two on the clock[/i]. Until then,” He bowed one last time and turned to walk back down the staircase, leaving the princess to retire to her chambers alone.

Now that he had some time to himself, Rivalen decided that the first thing he was going to do was find this room he had been assigned to. He descended the stairs and walked down the corridor, his dark eyes roving over the people that passed by as he searched for someone dressed like Alain had been, someone who could direct him to his room. The castle was still bustling with activity, but it didn’t take long before he spotted one such man standing at a corner up ahead.

“Excuse me,” Rivalen called as he approached the official. He waited for the man to turn towards him before he went on, “I was hoping you could give me directions, sir, to the chambers that formerly belonged to someone named Maria.”

The official stared at him confusedly, “[i]Maria’s[/i] chambers? What on earth do you need from there?”

“Well,” Rivalen said slowly, bracing himself for the inevitable scrutiny that would follow his next words. “I have been assigned to live there for the duration of my stay in the castle.”

The official’s bemused expression, as expected, transformed into one of concern, “But that would mean you’re—”

“Yes,” Rivalen interrupted impatiently. “I [i]am[/i] Princess Roxanne’s new personal assistant, and no, I am [i]not[/i] a debaucher who is only here to satisfy some indecent urge. Now that that’s cleared up, would you please be so kind as to direct me to my room?”

“Err, yes,” the official nodded, seeming eager to put the subject behind them at Rivalen’s sharp tone. “Maria’s chambers are this way.” He turned and began walking down the corridor towards another short flight of stairs that led down to the floor below. Rivalen followed behind him, doing his best to memorize the route between his new room and Roxanne’s quarters. He would of course have to learn the layout of the palace eventually, but he had a feeling that he would be using these particular hallways much more frequently as he served the princess.

At the bottom of the staircase, the official led him to a room that he noted was two doors down on the right hand side of the corridor. He also noted that it was close enough to Roxanne’s chambers that he would be able to reach her quickly if she needed anything, but far enough away that he could give the princess some privacy as well—quite a fitting location for a personal attendant. He only wondered what it looked like on the inside.

Rivalen turned the handle and pushed the door open, stepping into the room. He walked around the edges as he examined his temporary, new home. From what he could see, his chambers were much simpler than Roxanne’s. The living space was small and furnished only with a bed in one corner and a wooden desk in another. A thin, empty dresser stood alone at the back of the room. The walls were bare as well apart from a single window across from the door that provided a clear view of the clock tower outside. He guessed that was done intentionally so the princess’s personal attendant would be able to serve her more punctually, but the lines on the round face still meant nothing to him. He wondered if the official whom had brought him to the room could tell him how the strange device worked.

Rivalen turned to ask, but the other man spoke first, holding out his hand, “Give me your bag.”

“Pardon?” Rivalen knit his brow in confusion.

“I need to search your belongings before you move in to the room,” the official explained curtly. “It’s nothing personal. The King only wishes to ensure that no wizards slip into his castle, so we guards are required to search any and all newcomers for items of magic.” He nodded at Rivalen’s pack, “Your bag, please.”

Rivalen eyed him for a moment before shrugging the pack off of his shoulders, “I suppose that’s understandable.” He was thankful now that he had already taken the steps to disguise his belongings with an enchantment before he had arrived at the palace. As they were now, the official would only see his spell books and magic artifacts as plain reading material and candle sticks. He held it out for the guard to take, “Go through all of it, if you’d like. I have nothing to hide.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the official smirked. “I’ll be thorough.”

As the man went through his belongings, Rivalen went on to look at his new room more closely. He enjoyed its simplicity, but he also knew that the lack of elaborate furnishings would make it more difficult to hide his books and artifacts. He could only keep up the enchantment for so long—about two more days at most—before he ran out of the energy he needed to sustain it. So, if he wanted to avoid getting burned at the stake, he would have to find a more permanent place to keep his magic items hidden.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Rivalen heard a loud creak from the floorboard he was stepping on. He looked down at his feet and then froze, eyes wide as another idea came to him, [i]I wonder…[/i]

“You look like you’ve never heard a squeaky floorboard before,” the official spoke up from the other side of the room, looking at Rivalen with his lips pursed in amusement. “Also, I’ve finished searching your bag and, fortunately for you, I found nothing suspicious.” He handed Rivalen his pack. “Enjoy your stay in the castle.” With that, the official exited the room and left Rivalen by himself.

“Oh, I will,” the warlock smiled to himself and closed the bedroom door. Now that he was alone, he could finally complete the first item on his to-do list. He crossed over to his bed and dropped his bag on the mattress, opening the top and rummaging through his things. After a moment, he retrieved a thin, handwritten spell book, a small mirror, and a candlestick, all of which he carried over to the desk in the other corner of the room. He sat down in the wooden chair and began thumbing through the pages of his book. Before he left Oldpine, he had written down a number of spells that Morold had taught him since he didn’t have them all memorized. Now, that notebook was proving to be quite useful, because after a bit of skimming, he found the spell he was looking for.

Rivalen picked up the candle again and fixed his gaze on the tip, his eyes taking on a subtle, golden glow as he focused his magic on the first spell, “[i]Sebud o heli[/i].” It was a simple spell, one that every wizard learned when he could first tap into his powers, and one that Rivalen knew by heart.

In the next instant, the candle flickered to life, a small flame dancing on the tip of the wax. Rivalen watched it proudly. The freedom to use magic again felt immeasurably satisfying. Setting the open spell book down on the desk, he picked up the mirror in his other hand, waving the lit candle in front of its glass surface as he recited the second spell from the book, “[i]Anim o bodivoi’ da ask nemi[/i].” He waited as the image in the mirror became warped for a moment before it cleared up again. The face it reflected now, however, didn’t belong to him.

“I see you’ve made it successfully into the castle,” Morold said.

“Of course, Father,” Rivalen nodded.

“Well, don’t spare me any details,” Morold said with a hint of impatience. “How did you get in? What position did you take in the castle? I hope you chose a role that will keep you close to Cedric and his spawn.”

“You could say that,” Rivalen shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I’ve been assigned to be the princess’s personal attendant.”

Morold blinked at him in surprise through the mirror, “I must say, Rivalen, that is impressive. How did you manage to win such a trusted position?”

“I may have told Cedric that I know how to kill wizards,” Rivalen shrugged. “He believes I know of some grand, secret weakness in our kind that I’ve used to hunt them before.”

“Hm,” Morold grunted, nodding thoughtfully. “That was a risky move, Rivalen. It may have gotten you a high position in the castle now, but you won’t last long. Cedric will want to see proof of your capability to fight magic, and even if he continues to believe you can do so, he will try to pry this ‘secret weakness’ out of you so that he can use it for his own benefit. As soon as he finds out you’ve lied to him, he may very well have you hanged for treason.”

“That’s assuming he lives long enough to find out,” Rivalen objected. He didn’t want to think about what could happen if the king realized he was bluffing. Just the thought of it made him shudder. “Right now, the only thing I need to worry about is giving him proof of my capabilities, right? I’m sure we could stage a fight that will convince Cedric I’m not a fake—at least, one to convince him long enough that I can take his life before he suspects otherwise.”

Morold thought for a moment, “I suppose I could arrange something, but it will take time. The act needs to be flawless or Cedric will see right through it, and he [i]will[/i] kill you for tricking him.”

“I know, Father,” Rivalen grimaced.

“Until I finish making the preparations, just try to keep your head down and don’t give Cedric a reason to question you, understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good. Contact me again in two days to update me of your progress. Meanwhile, I will get started on the preparations for your fight. Goodbye, Rivalen.”

“Goodbye, Father,” Rivalen bowed his head and waved the candle in front of the mirror’s surface once more, his eyes taking on their golden hue as he tapped into his magic. “[i]Rios dui bodivoi’[/i].” The glass warped again, this time showing Rivalen’s own reflection when it cleared. He sighed and blew out the candle, setting it down on the desk and stowing his mirror in the top drawer. When that was done, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the clock tower through the window. [i]Keep my head down, huh?[/i] The best way to do that, he supposed, was to simply play the role of a servant, working diligently and satisfying the princess’s every need. It wouldn’t be too difficult… if only he could figure out how to read that cursed clock so he could complete his very first task as her personal attendant!

A sudden knock on the door made him jump. Silently scolding himself for letting his guard down, Rivalen took a slow breath to calm down before he got up from the desk chair and walked over to open the door. Standing outside his room was a young servant girl—she couldn’t have been more than fourteen—who stared up at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. She dropped forward in a deep bow, speaking quickly, “My apologies, sir! I believe I have the wrong room. I was looking for Her Highness’s new attendant. Do forgive the intrusion.”

“You have the right room,” Rivalen said as the girl turned to hurry away. “I am the princess’s attendant. What do you need?”

The girl shook her head in disbelief, “Please, you don’t have to lie to me, sir. I’m very sorry for bothering you. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m not lying,” Rivalen frowned and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I was appointed by King Cedric earlier today. Now, tell me what you need, would you?”

The servant girl gaped at him for a moment before she seemed to find her words, “I apologize, sir. I was expecting… err, I was expecting a woman.” She paused again, knitting her brow as if she had forgotten what she wanted to say, and then went on, “I came to tell you that Her Highness’s dinner will be ready soon. The cooks are nearly done preparing it in the kitchen. I assume you already know that you are to deliver it to her chambers?”

“I do,” Rivalen nodded. He glanced over his shoulder at the clock tower in the window as another thought came to him. “Say, can you read the time on that?” He pointed at the clock and smiled sheepishly at the girl. “I’m afraid I can’t make out the meaning of those symbols.”

“Of course,” the girl chuckled softly and stepped forward to enter the room, but then she stopped, shifting her weight uncertainly. “Um, do you mind if…”

“You can come in,” Rivalen laughed and walked to the back of the room, resting his arms on the bottom sill of the window as he stared out at the clock tower. “So, what does it say?”

“Right now it’s almost twenty ‘til two,” the girl said, stepping over to join him at the window. “Do you see those twelve lines that make a circle around the outside of the clock? They represent the twenty-four hours of the day, but each number is accounted for twice. The twelfth hour is on the top and the sixth hour is on the bottom. The rest of the hours are spaced between them like this,” she traced a clockwise circle on the window with her finger, pausing at different intervals as she counted off numbers from one to twelve. “Now do you see the two lines in the middle of the clock that point at the lines on the outside? They’re called ‘hands.’ The short one represents hours and the long one represents minutes, which are shorter lengths of time in each hour.” She stopped when she noticed the puzzled look on Rivalen’s face. “Err, I’ll tell you about minutes another time. Most time is kept according to the hour in the castle anyways, so just look at the line that the short hand points to and you should be fine for now.”

“Okay,” Rivalen said slowly. The concept of keeping time was still abstract to him, but he felt like he was at least starting to understand how the clock worked. As long as he could remember which lines represented what hours, he would be fine. He turned back to the servant girl, “Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome,” the girl smiled. “If you ever need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Rivalen thought for a moment. “Actually, there is one more thing you could do for me.”

“What is it?”

“Do you know how to get to the kitchen from here? Since I’ve only been in the castle for less than a day, I don’t know my way around yet.”

“Of course,” the girl nodded and gestured for him to follow her. “It’s right this way.”

--

With the servant girl’s help, Rivalen managed to find the palace kitchen and pick up Roxanne’s dinner. It was a challenge to carry everything through the bustling hallways without spilling anything—he was almost tempted to use magic to make the platter float above the crowds—but luckily he was able to make it up the stairs without dropping any plates or glasses. He adjusted his hold on the platter when he reached the princess’s room, balancing it in one hand so he could knock on her door with the other as he called, “Your Highness? I’ve brought your dinner.”