I laughed harder; I couldn’t help it. The situation was just so absurd.
“I’d really rather not,” I managed.
“Please. I cannot handle his wrath normally, and I certainly cannot handle it today. I’ll do anything.”
My head had started to throb. If I gave in, I’d be owed a favor. It was a good excuse to end this excruciating torment.
“Fine,” I said, sounding put out. I had to play the part, after all.
He sagged in relief. “I had you pegged as the stubborn, unrelenting type. Which, let’s be honest, I absolutely love. There is nothing like a snarky jackass to color the day. I can’t take the women who always get their feelings hurt and then act passive-aggressive about it. Who has the time? But just for today, I need you pliant, yes? Just work with me today. Be your badass bitch self after today.”
Still laughing, I said, “You’ve convinced me.”
“Oh, thank the goddess and her lubed-up men. Okay, here we go. Step lively. The master is already pissed off for some reason. It doesn’t take much usually, but this is ridiculous. Who shat on his breakfast, you know?”
“The same person who shat in your mouth?”
“Don’t joke about that. Worse things have happened in this place, and I’d rather they didn’t happen to me.”
I took in his outfit. Dark gray slacks and a gray jacket with a black velvet lapel.
“I’m missing the fuzzy purple beast—”
He held up a finger. “Don’t say it.”
“I loved the stuffed purple—”
“Don’t you dare keep going. I woke up with my head in the toilet and my pants around my knees. I would say that was an all-time low, but sadly, it isn’t even close.”
“Dark.”
“Tell me about it.”
“And this is your…butler ensemble?”
He looked down his front, then farther until he could see his pressed velvet slippers, two shades lighter than the gray slacks. “Yes. I’m going for a modern look. I think I picked the wrong shoes, though. Otherwise, I am definitely selling the vibe, wouldn’t you agree? I mean, when was the last time I had to properly butler? I don’t even know how to do this fucking job. I was a stable hand before this. I only stepped up into this gig because everyone else was afraid of getting killed. If we ever get out of this, it’ll be a great work history builder, you know what I’m saying?” He held up a finger as we walked down the stairs. “The important thing is mediocrity. Remember that. If you stay mediocre and mostly uninterested in helping the castle flourish, the demons won’t treat you to an ‘accident.’”
Anger burned through me. “They just randomly kill anyone who does a good job around here?”
“Yeah, pretty much. But there haven’t been any deaths in a while. We’ve all pretty much got things under control. If someone is good at their job, like your lady’s maid, they have some serious kinks that the demons like exploring. Since I am afraid of the more serious kinks, I’ve got being terrible at butlering down to an art.” He ran his hand down his lapel.
“Yes, you do,” I said to play along, grinning. He had a way of making a person feel better about their shitty situation. I really needed that right now.
“And you…” He did a once-over on my outfit. “You have already taken that note, it seems. Good work. You’re still pretty, don’t get me wrong, but this…clothing and the…dirt on your face really detract from your appearance. What is your hair even doing?”
I hadn’t even thought about washing up. My life was upside down, and it hadn’t occurred to me to do any of the basic things I did in a normal day. Since I wasn’t in the habit of looking at mirrors anyway… Well, I guessed it could only help me in this castle. Bully for me.
“Did you literally punch yourself in the face, too?” he asked. “There are other ways to detract from your appearance than self-violence. Trust me. Do you think I like this hideous mustache? And this bow pulling back my too-long hair—you think I’m enjoying this look?” He lifted his eyebrows.
I erupted in giggles again. The mustache definitely detracted from his handsome face. The thing was comical, as were the outfit and the large bow holding his shoulder-length black hair at his nape.
“No, no self-violence. I thought it might be fun to cry myself to sleep last night.”
“Ah. Well, it could be worse. You could’ve woken up with your head in a toilet, a purple costume gathered around your knees, and zero recollection of how you got there.”