Michael’s thin and almost emaciated body trembled slightly as his consciousness began to stir. There was a slight lag before he shot up from his back, instantly scanning the surroundings for threats as his heart beat wildly in his chest.
An unfamiliar room greeted him, lit up by a flickering lantern that created dancing shadows on the wall. He saw bookcases filled with old looking tomes, aging wooden furniture and cobwebs scattered around the ceiling.
Confusion washed over him.
He looked down, seeing a musty yet warm blanket covering his lower half. It took only a glance to realize he was still filthy, wearing the same clothes he’d had for the past couple of weeks.
Michael felt a sense of pity for the person who would have to clean the bed and sheets, but more importantly, he needed to find out where he was.
The last thing I remember was arriving in front of the gates... Did the mage’s bring me here?
"Oh good, you’re awake." A woman’s voice called as the door swung open, startling him.
Her face was lit up by the lantern, showing a woman in a simple black dress barely in her twenties. The fair skin and warm smile on her face left him feeling reassured—safe even.
"W-Where am I?" Michael asked, his voice sounding rather unnatural after not being used for so long.
"You’re in one of the guest rooms of Lord Winterborne," she said, approaching him from the door.
Michael flinched subconsciously, only for the woman to stop in place.
"Oh you poor thing, it must have been tough on you out in the wilderness," she said, her tone filled with empathy, "don’t worry though, you’re safe now."
Michael felt his body relax, hearing the care and concern in her voice. It felt woman didn’t have any ulterior motive, so he subconsciously let down his guard.
"I still don’t know what’s happening," he admitted, "why has the lord taken me in?"
In all honesty, he didn’t have much of a plan outside of coming to Whitevalley Town. The best Michael had hoped for was to sleep on the streets for a few days before looking for some stable work.
After accumulating enough capital, he’d be able to apply for one of the cheaper magic academies and become a mage. As long as he was studious, he would be able to at least get strong enough to protect himself.
But that was as far as he had planned.
So waking up in the residence of an unknown Lord was quite surprising.
Instead of answering his question, the woman approached him and gently reached out, grabbing his hand. They were a little rougher than he’d expected, but they were warm to the touch.
"I’m Shirley, one of the maids in Lord Winterborne’s employ. What’s your name sweetpea?" she asked, smiling at him gently as she sat on the edge of the bed.
Michael looked at the woman and couldn’t help but compare her to the maids at his old home. He had expected to see some derision hidden beneath her eyes, or an ulterior motive, but all he could sense was sincerity.
"My name is Michael..." he replied softly, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly from embarrassment.
Shirley’s smile widened and she patted the back of his hand, "What a wonderful name," she exclaimed, "do you have a family name as well?"
Though the question sounded a little probing, Michael wasn’t offended.
"Ellis..." he replied softly.
Michael chose to abandon the Aurelius name, a decision that he hadn’t made lightly. Apart from his mother who had married into the family, he felt no attachment to such a name, in fact, all it brought was bitterness.
While he could have chosen to take his mother’s maiden name, he was worried that her family might investigate and look into his identity. By throwing away his last name, Michael was going to start a new life, one with the sole purpose of finding his mother’s killers.
"Ellis? I’m not sure I’ve heard of that family before," Shirley muttered, tilting her head in thought.
Michael nodded. He had come up with the name as a tribute to his mother Alice, it was close enough that whenever he heard it, he would be reminded of her.
"Well, I guess that leads me to my next question. Where are your parents?" she asked kindly.
"They are dead." Michael stated plainly.
Though he didn’t know the fate of his father, he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, he was far better off without the man in his life, regardless of his newfound strength.
"Oh sweetie..." Shirley moved forward and brought him into her embrace. She squeezed him tightly, rubbing a hand on his back as if trying to bring him comfort.
Michael was slightly taken aback, but he did not resist her. He wasn’t sure if he even could since his body felt so weak at the moment.
Shirley pulled back after a few minutes, holding him at arm’s length. "Let’s get you cleaned up and put some food in your belly, you’re skin and bones," she exclaimed, looking him up and down.
"Ah, your dress..." Michael said, looking down at her once clean and pristine outfit. It was now marred by dirt after hugging him a moment ago.
But Shirley waved her hand dismissively, "it’ll come out easy enough." She said, getting to her feet. "Now come, once you’ve bathed, the Lord has invited you to dine with him and his family."
Before he could refuse, Shirley grabbed his hand and easily lifted him from the bed and carried him in her arms. Once again, she seemed to not care about how filthy he was.
"My word... You’re so light," she commented, a hint of sadness in her tone.
However, Michael didn’t hear her.
"Thank you..." he muttered, biting his lip hard.
This was the first kindness he’d experienced since his mother’s death, stoking his emotions.
"You have such good manners," Shirley said, letting out a giggle, "now let’s get you cleaned up. I bet you’re a handsome boy under all that filth."
"I knew it!" Shirley exclaimed, ruffling Michael’s hair affectionately, "You’re so handsome."
Michael felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as the maid finished bathing him. Even at his insistence that he could bathe himself, the woman had not budged, showing a caring yet stubborn side that he didn’t know how to handle.
Eventually, he had no choice but to give in to her persistence.