Day 1 as a valet

Elias hurried down the hall, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Alaric's words lingered in his mind, heavy and suffocating.

Don't let him break you.

He wished he could scoff at the warning, dismiss it as unnecessary—but deep down, he wasn't sure anymore.

Cassius had already taken everything from him. His freedom, his dignity, his body. What more was there to break?

Elias exhaled sharply, pushing the thoughts away as he approached Reginald's study.

The door was slightly ajar, and inside, the older man was organizing a stack of documents, his posture as rigid and disciplined as always.

Reginald was a man of precision, a servant who had been with the household longer than most. He was strict, sometimes cruel in his sharp critiques, but he had a reputation for shaping even the most unpolished servants into perfection.

Elias knocked lightly on the doorframe. "Master said you would be teaching me etiquette."

Reginald didn't look up immediately. "You're late."

Elias frowned. "I—"

"I don't need excuses." The older man finally turned, his eyes raking over Elias's appearance. His brow lifted slightly, and for the first time since Elias had known him,

Reginald didn't have a scowl of disapproval.

"You cleaned up well," Reginald commented, gesturing for Elias to step inside. "Almost unrecognizable."

Elias hesitated. He had expected mockery, expected a sneer or a reminder of his place, but there was none of that.

No comments about how a mere servant didn't deserve such fine clothing. No condescending remarks about why the master would keep an omega like him for more than a night.

That silence unsettled him more than anything.

Reginald motioned to a chair across from him. "Sit. We have a lot to cover before you humiliate yourself in front of the master's guests."

Elias swallowed and obeyed, trying to ignore the weight of Alaric's words still pressing against his chest.

Reginald wasted no time. The moment Elias sat, the older man placed a book in front of him—a heavy, leather-bound tome filled with rules and protocols.

"The first thing you need to understand is that the master's image is everything," Reginald said, flipping to a marked page. "As his valet, you are an extension of him. If you embarrass yourself, you embarrass him."

Elias nodded stiffly, his hands resting in his lap. He was well aware of the weight of his new position, but hearing it laid out like this only made it more suffocating.

Reginald tapped a passage in the book. "Your posture, your speech, your presence—it all has to be impeccable. No slouching, no mumbling. You walk with purpose. You speak when spoken to, and when you do, you keep it concise and respectful."

Elias clenched his jaw. "I understand."

Reginald studied him for a moment before nodding. "Then show me. Stand up."

Elias did as instructed, straightening his spine.

Reginald circled him like a hawk inspecting prey. "You're too stiff. Relax your shoulders, but don't slouch. A proper valet carries himself with confidence, not fear."

Elias adjusted slightly.

"Better." Reginald stepped back. "Now, when in the master's presence, you do not make direct eye contact unless granted permission. When he enters the room, you acknowledge him with a bow—subtle, not exaggerated. Your hands remain at your sides unless given something to carry."

Elias absorbed the instructions, forcing himself to push past his unease.

Reginald continued, his tone firm. "You will accompany the master on certain outings. When you do, you will be seen. People will take note of you, and they will judge accordingly. You are no longer just another servant in the shadows—you are his valet."

Elias's fingers curled slightly. As if I had a choice.

Reginald flipped the book shut with a decisive thud. "You have one night to absorb this information. Tomorrow, you will be tested. Do not fail."

Elias swallowed hard but nodded.

Reginald gave him one last scrutinizing glance before dismissing him. "Go. Get some rest. You'll need it."

Elias turned on his heel and left the study, his mind racing with everything he had just learned.

Tomorrow, his life as Cassius's valet would officially begin.

And he had no room for mistakes.

Elias returned to his quarters, his body heavy with exhaustion. The day had drained him—not just physically, but mentally. Every interaction, every scrutinizing glance, every unspoken judgment weighed on him.

He sat on the edge of his bed, exhaling slowly. His hands found the fabric of his new uniform, smooth and pristine beneath his fingers. It felt foreign, too fine for someone like him. Just days ago, he had been nothing but another nameless servant, scurrying through the halls, avoiding notice.

Now, he was to stand beside Cassius, his presence constantly under watch.

He let out a quiet laugh, a bitter and humorless one.

What a joke.

With slow, deliberate movements, he began unbuttoning the jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders. The crisp shirt followed, leaving him in nothing but his undershirt and trousers. He felt lighter without it—less of a spectacle, less of whatever it was Cassius was turning him into.

He neatly folded the uniform and placed it atop the small dresser, knowing better than to treat something so valuable carelessly.

Another set remained, hung carefully on the wall. One for daily wear, another for formal occasions, as Reginald had explained.

Elias scoffed under his breath.

As if I am someone worthy of formal occasions.

He ran a hand through his hair, still adjusting to the unfamiliar shortness of it. The barber had done well—too well even. He had caught his own reflection earlier and barely recognized himself.

Tiredness clung to his limbs, but at least his body finally felt like his own again. With his uniform put away and the weight of the day behind him, he pulled the blankets over himself and let his eyes drift shut.

Tomorrow would be a long day, but for now, he would rest.

The morning air was crisp as Elias stirred awake before dawn, the weight of his new responsibilities pressing down on him before he even opened his eyes. He sat up slowly, the lingering remnants of sleep clinging to his mind, but he forced them away. Today was his first official day as Cassius's valet. He couldn't afford mistakes.

Pushing back the blankets, he slipped out of bed and immediately got to work.

His first task was refining his etiquette. Standing before the small mirror in his room, he practiced his posture, adjusting until his spine was straight but not rigid. He bowed at different angles, recalling Reginald's instructions from the night before. Subtle, not exaggerated. Respectful, not subservient.

His speech was next. Though his words were few, he repeated the necessary phrases under his breath:

"Good morning, Master."

"Shall I prepare your coat?"

"Your schedule for the day is as follows—"

Each line was spoken with measured precision, his tone even and composed.

By the time the sky lightened, Elias was fully dressed in his uniform, every button fastened, every crease smooth. He slipped on his gloves last, flexing his fingers slightly before exhaling.

The room before Cassius's chamber held the necessities he would need—an extra set of gloves, a handkerchief, a pocket watch, and other items meant to assist his master throughout the day. Elias took only what was needed, adjusting them carefully so they would be within easy reach if required.

Elias also ensured he had everything before stepping toward Cassius's door. In addition to his own necessities, he had carefully gathered Cassius's clothes, shoes, and other essentials for the morning. That was the purpose of the room before his master's chamber—to hold everything required for his preparation.

The weight of the fine garments draped over his arm reminded him once more of his position. This was his duty now.

He reached the door at precisely seven.

Knocking thrice, he waited a moment before pushing the door open quietly.

The chamber was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn, allowing only a sliver of morning light to slip through. As soon as Elias stepped inside, he bowed deeply, just as Reginald had instructed.

His heart pounded slightly, but he kept his posture firm, his breathing even.

Now, all that remained was for Cassius to acknowledge him. Only then could he proceed.