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The distinct sound of gold plated shoes on the rough stone floor echoed through the empty halls of the servant barracks. The soles were adorned with gemstones, each worth more than Jimmy's own life a thousand times over.
He knew them well. The Duchess had gifted them to Duke Stanley two weeks into Jimmy's stay at the castle. It had been the first time he had seen the Duke smile since he had been given to him as a punishment for displeasing his wife.
A commoner, made to swear a knight's oath and given the position of personal knight to the Duke.
It was a cruel joke that Duke Stanley, who had not yet earned the right to bear the Duchess' name but had abandoned his own all the same, took with the grace of someone befitting his station. With straight shoulders and a raised head the Duke observed the court's scribe reciting a knight's oath for Jimmy to repeat. The words tasted of poison on Jimmy's tongue and he spat them out as such. There had only ever been one person, one child who had deserved Jimmy's loyalty and the Duke was not him. After Jimmy had told his last lie the Duke held out a gloved hand with thick, ugly rings for Jimmy to kiss. The insult was not lost on him and forcing his eyes shut as he kissed the cold stones was all Jimmy could do not to glare at his new lord and master and get his head chopped off in return.
He was supposed to be the personal knight of the Duke, his most important tool and confidant, yet the Duke had not even bothered to take off his gloves for such an occasion.
Whereas Jimmy was Duke Stanley's punishment, the shoes were his forgiveness.
The Duke smiled at her, took off his gloves and kissed her knuckles with thankful admiration.
"Go on, my love." She said and stroked his face. "Put them on."
"Of course." Duke Stanley waved his hand. "Jimmy."
The servants next to him snickered.
Jimmy obeyed, stepped forward and bowed.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Your knight?" The Duchess sounded amused.
"He was your gift as well, was he not? It seems fitting."
"Ah yes, yes. Thank you for reminding me. I almost forgot your little stunt. Maybe we…" The rest of the whispered words were lost on Jimmy.
The Duke's leg jerked forward.
"Go on."
Jimmy obeyed. He knelt down, but hesitated. Was there any sort of etiquette he should follow? His knight training so far had been a joke and he was no servant either.
The last thing he wanted was to get executed before he could make his move and get out of this cursed land.
The Duchess laughed, clear and sweet.
"Maybe you should call for your servants after all. This one is an especially dull breed."
Jimmy bit his cheek.
"Get on with it, Jimmy."
The blatant disrespect did not help his anger.
"Yes, Your Grace."
Jimmy slid off the shoes and was handed the new, golden ones by one of the Duchess personal servants. They were heavy, hard and small, built after the more delicate feet of a woman. Jimmy held them out but stopped when Duke Stanley lifted his foot to get in.
They wouldn't fit, not with hard metal plating and edges as sharp as the blades Jimmy kept hidden on his person. Whatever the purpose of these shoes were, they were not meant to be worn.
"Your Grace," Jimmy looked up and his heart stopped when their eyes met. "I don't think-"
"You are not here to think."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Fine, if the Duke wanted to have his feet mutilated so be it. Just a couple more days and Jimmy would kill him anyway, maybe then his eyes would look more alive and less like he was living in a completely different world than the common folk.
Just when Jimmy moved to push the first shoe onto the Duke's feet, the Duchess pushed the Duke's head towards her and caught him into a passionate kiss. The tenseness in his shoulders lifted when the Duke's eyes left Jimmy's form but irritation took its place. This was exactly the type of indecent behavior that had caused rumors to spread across the country about how Duke Stanley seduced the Duchess and kept her away from her duties of protecting the monster infested border. They said the Duke was mad with power and lust, possessed by the very demons the Duchess fought against, but all Jimmy saw was an expressionless noble whose private thoughts no one was privy to. Especially not someone like Jimmy or the gossiping servants.
Jimmy pushed the shoe against the Duke's foot, careful not to cut the thin stockings with the sharp edges. It was no use. Half a foot in was all he could manage. Any more or he would scar the Duke permanently. He considered pressing the issue again and taking the Duke's attention away from the Duchess. Talking out of place like that would make the Duke glare at him again and he might even get punished for disobeying direct orders. Jimmy licked his lips and glanced upwards. Their rulers were still entangled with each other, the Duchess taking great pleasure in touching every inch of Duke Stanley's body. Her hands went through his hair and pulled his head into a more desirable position. The braid came loose beneath her fingers and the Duke's clothes crumpled up in her hold. Part of his shirt moved up and exposed some skin that took on a green tint in the dim lighting of the hall.
Duke Stanley should've looked like a common whore being devoured by their lover for the night, but he still looked regal in Jimmy's eyes. His movements were graceful and uninterested. He tolerated the touches and let himself be moved in the way his wife seemed fit, but was above her lustful mortal desires. Jimmy shifted in place and tried not to think about the Duke's restrained posture and what his lips would taste like. It would surely be something sweet and expensive. A foreign dessert that someone like Jimmy would never have the privilege to gaze upon, let alone taste.
Jimmy hated this weakness of his. He had sworn to eradicate all noble scum, especially the Duke and the family he left behind when he married the Duchess. They were murderers who treated commoners like cattle and pets for their own amusement, disgusting and undesirable.
The kiss grew deeper, as the Duchess left little room for Duke Stanley's breath. His face started to flush, the first true reaction to her claiming of him. When she leaned back her teeth bit down on Duke Stanley's bottom lip and left it red and swollen.
Jimmy swallowed hard, His Grace's lips looked lonely and in desperate need for some tender care. The thought of asking the Duchess if he should continue while she rested sprung unwillingly into his mind, but was soon squandered when pain, the likes of which he's never felt, shot through his body. His skin was on fire and felt like it was being peeled away with a dull knife drenched in salt.
Jimmy tried to scream and claw at the pain all over his body, but he was unable to move. All he could do was stare straight forward in horror as the Duchess stopped her assault on her husband and glare directly at him. She raised her hand and clenched her fingers. The pain that had engulfed his body now shot right into his chest where his heart lay. It tried to beat but something squeezed down inside of him and the muscle spasmed in vein. Jimmy was helpless to stop it.
He cursed his foolishness. What had he been waiting for these past two weeks? He should've just killed the Duke in his sleep and be done with it. Now he paid the price for his hesitation, for desiring the Duchess' possession and daring to look at him in the same way that she did.
Duke Stanley whined and leaned forward, grabbing the Duchess' hands in his. The pressure instantly lessened and his heart came back to life, pumping the blood through his veins in painful beats.
"Don't stop now."
The words, rough and desperate, twisted inside his stomach and Jimmy had the urge to beg for more. The moment the Duchess obliged with the request, the invisible force that held Jimmy in place vanished and he became the master of his own body again. Before he could process what had happened however the Duke pushed his foot into the shoe and moaned against the Duchess mouth.
"The other one." The Duke ordered and Jimmy obeyed, watching as the blood dripped down the golden heel.
They had given him the worst room, one unfit for even the lowest of servants. His new status meant nothing to them as the blood in his veins was still dirty and poor, unlike their own. Peasants and commoners were not usually elected to serve the elite after all. Even the lowest chamber maid of the castle still had some form of noble blood in her, be it because of an illegitimate affair or her family's disgraced noble house.
"I apologize", the quartermaster had grinned when he showed Jimmy his new chamber with moldy walls and a lump of straw from the stables as a bed. There were no windows in the room, just cracks in the wall through which a constant draft whistled through. "We simply don't have any other free rooms available that would fit your station, Sir James."
Jimmy had nodded and refused to let his irritation show. He had a job to do and would only stay as long as it took him to have the Duke's head and take it to his employer.
It wouldn't benefit him to retaliate against the insult.
Not now at least.
After his mission was over and the Duke was rotting in the ground all bets were off.
Jimmy grinned. He imagined showing the quartermaster and the servants and the other knights just how little their blood meant in the face of his blades.
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There they were again. Those annoying shoes of the noble he had sworn to kill long before someone offered to pay him for it.
Shoes that didn't belong anywhere near these parts of the castle.
The door of his cell creaked open, but Jimmy didn't dare to turn around and look at the man that entered. His heart raced and his hands became clammy. What was the meaning of this? Why would the duke demean himself to come here when he could so easily summon Jimmy? His shoes would get dirty and Jimmy wouldn't make it any better. No matter how many times he bathed he never felt clean enough to be near him.
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The steps stopped and the sound of tapping took their place. Delicate fingers hitting the wood of Jimmy's desk in rhythmic succession.
Shit.
Jimmy had been sharpening his blades before he arrived. Blades that were used for assassinations and not for honorable battles befitting of a knight.
"Your Grace", Jimmy choked out, but didn't turn around.
The tapping stopped and the Duke moved closer until the heat of his body was just inches apart from Jimmy's back. If Jimmy turned around now or leaned back just slightly he would touch the Duke almost on accident. He stayed still. A quiet breath caressed Jimmy's neck and the smell of burned herbs and lavender filled the air, so unlike the fruity sweetness that the Duchess was said to prefer.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The last word came out wrong, wavering. Jimmy dragged it out by accident. He blushed in shame.
"Is that what this is about?"
Jimmy shivered when another warm breath hit his neck.
"Your pleasure?"
The words were mocking, but the suggestion was clear.
His legs grew weak and he feared to fall. No, he hoped to sink to his knees where he belonged, kissing his master's shoes and begging for forgiveness for having the audacity to exist in his presence.
The Duke pushed against him and put an arm around Jimmy's neck, gently at first, then squeezing. The pressure forced him to gasp and he became lightheaded at the touch.
"Your Grace."
His words were intelligible.
Out of the corner of his eyes the shape of a nose and the sharp edge of a jaw came into view. Jimmy didn't dare to look anywhere but ahead.
Duke Stanley pressed down harder. Had his malnourished arms always been so strong? No, no that couldn't be. The Duke barely ate a meal, let alone work out. It should've been very easy to overpower him and save his own life, but his thoughts escaped him just as the air did.
His arms shot up on instinct as he struggled.
"Don't." The Duke ordered. "Keep your filthy hands off me."
Jimmy failed to suppress a whine and flushed in shame. What a disgraceful behavior for a knight to try and sully the lord he had sworn fealty to. He tried to apologize, to ask for forgiveness, for punishment for his mistake, but the words were stuck in his throat. What could he possibly offer except his obedience and letting the Duke do with him as he pleased?
Another breath hit his chin, minty with a flowery note of lavender. It was so close to his mouth. All he had to do was move his head and claim, no steal, the Duchess' most prized possession for himself. His body reacted before he could.
"You", Duke Stanley hissed. "So that is how you see me?"
Jimmy closed his eyes in humiliation.
"No better than anyone else in this god forsaken place." The disappointment in Duke Stanley's voice did nothing to stop his blood from rushing downwards.
"Open your breeches."
Jimmy flinched. Back to an order that left no room to argue.
"Yes, Your Grace." Jimmy obeyed, disgusted with his eagerness. His hand hovered over his hardening member. Did the Duke want to watch or was this all just power play, a way to humiliate him further? Jimmy got harder regardless.
"Hands to the side. Don't move." Jimmy obeyed, fully expecting to be left wanting.
The Duke's hold around his neck loosened. He leaned over, strands of long hair tickled Jimmy's ears and the exposed parts of his neck. The Duke's hair was never loose except for when he was in the depths of passion with his wife. Jimmy's breath hitched. Did that mean His Grace wanted this as much as Jimmy? That thought alone, as outrageous as it was, made Jimmy fear that a touch would not be needed to push him over the edge.
"Quiet", The Duke tutted and before Jimmy could reply, apologize, waver more in the agony of the forbidden touch that he hated and desired he was gripped with a firm hand. Soft expensive leather around his shaft, rubbing up and down his most sensitive parts. A few strokes was all it took to-
"Not yet. Hold it."
The Duke's fingers lingered over his dick, not quite touching anymore. Jimmy whined. All Jimmy had to do was to move forwards slightly and he'd get his sweet release, but his master had forbidden it. Jimmy opened and closed his hands, ramming his fingernails into his palm to distract him from the agony.
The Duke stayed behind him, hot and breathing slowly, engulfing Jimmy in his own earthy scent. And then came the tapping, probing and impatient. Every little hit set his nerves ablaze and he let out a stuttered moan. If he could only touch himself or guide the Duke's hand to finish the job, but that was preposterous. He swore an oath of obedience hadn't he? He could not disobey now just to fulfill his own selfish desires. The tapping became quicker and then Duke Stanley flicked against his dick, sending sharp pain and pleasure through his body.
Jimmy groaned and bent over, but Duke Stanley didn't let him fall. His arm was back with full force and kept him upright by the throat. The hold grounded him.
"Ah!"
Another flick and another. Tears filled his eyes and he whimpered again, trying his best to follow his orders and keep quiet.
Arms at his side.
Don't move, Jimmy told himself. Don't touch. Be quiet. Stay still.
Follow your master's orders.
The Duke behind his back, around his throat, his hand on Jimmy's dick.
It was too much. Not in his wildest dreams had he ever hoped to be embraced by His Grace in such a way, only a layer of clothes between them.
What did he do to earn this pleasure, this privilege?
The Duke's fingers danced slowly around his tip. Too slowly. As if Jimmy was just an afterthought, a toy to occupy one's hands.
Jimmy's nails on his palms broke his skin, but it was not enough to distract him from his masters torture. He hoped they would leave scars to remember this night by, when His Grace inevitably left him and would no longer be interested in his company. He'd be able to look at them and know this had been real and the Duke had spared precious moments of his life for Jimmy and Jimmy alone.
No, no. The nails, the blood, the scars, they were his punishment.
Nothing about this was for Jimmy's pleasure. He would do well to remember it. Jimmy was nothing but his master's toy. Every part of him only existed to please the Duke. He had given up his right to his own flesh and it would be used as his master commanded.
Duke Stanley sighed. His breath breezing against Jimmy's face, teasing his skin. The wrongness of breathing the same air as the Duke twisted his stomach but Jimmy took it all in anyway. The same air that had been inside the Duke's lungs mere seconds ago was now part of Jimmy. If only the Duke hadn't ordered him to be quiet or he would be able to beg for more.
Jimmy's hands twitched with a sudden urge to reach back and feel if His Grace was just as affected by their closeness as he was. He rammed his nails back into his palms with full force before his impulsiveness got the better of him.
It was a good thing indeed, because Duke Stanley decided to grip him tightly again and quicken the pace, this time with less friction than before. Jimmy glanced downwards and saw the Duke’s glove soiled with precum. Something the Duke wore daily with his sigil stitched on with expensive golden thread now forever disgraced by Jimmy's body. It took all of him not to cum right then and there. This wasn't about him. The Duke was simply using him to…Jimmy wasn't sure. He could not fathom the thought of His Grace demeaning himself by desiring someone as lowly as him.
When the Duke's hold on him loosened Jimmy fell to his knees and opened his mouth offering himself to be put at the place that he belonged. It should've been Jimmy providing the pleasure. Not His Grace jerking him off.
Jimmy imagined His Grace stepping in front of him and making him beg for the privilege of pleasuring him. He would open his breeches, no. No. He would order Jimmy to do it while looking down at him disgusted and unimpressed. Jimmy would have to struggle to open them without his hands and he would take him whole. His mouth would stretch impossible wide just like a snake eating to survive, because that was exactly what Jimmy was doing. Surviving. He could no longer imagine a life without being of use to His Grace.
Jimmy imagined the Duke harden inside of him and he would gag, but push himself beyond his limits to take more, to be better. If the Duke would then forgive his lacking he would grab him by his hair and push him forward until not an inch of his penis remained outside Jimmy. They would stay like this until he was allowed some reprieve or until he would pass out from lack of air. The last thing he would remember is the Duke touching him and pleasing himself with Jimmy's body.
Jimmy was jerked out of his thoughts when Duke Stanley staggered backwards with a strangled cry.
What happened? The Duke never lost his composure, but maybe he had just imagined it. It could've been the wind howling through the cracks in the walls or Jimmy's own desperate whines playing a trick on him, because when the Duke spoke again his voice was cold as ever.
"Are you still not satisfied?"
Jimmy gaped at him, not comprehending the question. It was not his satisfaction he sought.
What had he done wrong? All Jimmy had wanted was to fulfill his Grace's wishes.
"Forgive me, Your Grace", Jimmy tried to say, but his words got lost in a moan when the Duke forced his head back by the hair and made him look upwards. His face was thin and pale, but his strong features were badly hidden by the golden make up. His eyes were dark and empty.
Jimmy looked down. The view was too beautiful for someone like him. He was suddenly acutely aware why the nobles of the past had hidden their faces underneath masks and veils from the common people.
Looking down was a mistake. Seeing the Duke's hand twitch towards his own breeches did not help Jimmy in this situation. Would he open up after all and let Jimmy prove his dedication?
His tentative hope was squashed when the clothes stayed unopened and Jimmy's head got jerked back a second time. Strands of hair snapped and the skin tightened around his face. Another strangled moan escaped his throat and he despised himself for taking pleasure in his punishment.
Duke Stanley leaned down, his nose almost touching Jimmy's, their mouths inches apart. His eyes looked through Jimmy as he was not worth the consideration. His Grace was close, too close.
Hair of lavender, his breath earthy and warm with a note of mint. Mugwort, Jimmy noted and licked his lips in anticipation and in fear of what it would mean for them if His Grace allowed something so intimate as a kiss.
"Finish up already." Duke Stanley growled and let go.
Jimmy obeyed.
He slumped to the ground in blissful release and concentrated all his mind on breathing, just breathing. His nerves, too raw and sensitive to do anything else. His heart, too scared to move and break the moment.
A pair of gloves fell down in front of him. The leather was wet and tainted from Jimmy's shame. Part of him wanted to crawl forward and kiss them as they were his master's. They had touched his skin and kept it safe from being harmed by Jimmy's body. He suppressed the urge. Now that they touched Jimmy they were nothing but trash that did not belong in the Duke's presence.
"I beg your forgiveness." Jimmy bent down and shut his eyes. Duke Stanley hummed. Jimmy corrected himself. "No, I apologize. What I did was unforgivable. Showing Your Grace this ugliness of mine. I will take any punishment Your Grace sees fit."
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Duke Stanley stepped back without a word and Jimmy was certain he would order his arrest.
The door stayed closed though. Instead, Jimmy heard the sound of fingers tapping on wood again. He raised his head slightly before he could think better of it. The gloved fingers, because they were always gloved when not with the Duchess, hit the wood in rapid succession just like they did moments prior. Jimmy reddened at the memory and his dick twitched slightly. He cursed his lustful body and pulled his breaches up in a haste, but it was too late. Duke Stanley had taken notice and retracted his hands huffing.
"Maybe not quite like the others. At least you show some shame, for however little it changes."
Jimmy stayed quiet. He had not been given permission to speak freely yet.
Duke Stanley picked up one of Jimmy's blades and ran his fingers over the edges. The design was simple and could easily be confused with a common tool, but for the trained eye it was a different story entirely. Duke Stanley was not known for being well educated and they said his teachers gave up on him long before he came of age and married the Duchess right after, but rumors could never be fully trusted.
"Why are you here, really?"
"To serve you, Your Grace." The words came out immediately. A trained lie.
Duke Stanley stepped forward and put the blade underneath Jimmy's chin. He squirmed, not scared - no, he was a trained assassin. This hold was easy to get out of, but the excitement of being forced to look at the Duke under the threat of death was a different story.
Duke Stanley closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking back down and pressing the knife more firmly against his throat. The blade broke skin and something warm and wet ran down his neck. Jimmy flinched back but his body didn't obey. He licked his lips. Cold sweat mixed with the blood ran down his body.
"Don't lie to me, assassin."
To his own horror, Jimmy obeyed.
"To kill you, Your Grace."
The knife retreated and so did the hold the Duke had on him. Jimmy clutched his throat.
"Now was that so hard?"
Duke Stanley turned back to the blades, leaving his back unguarded. Did he not know the danger Jimmy posed?
Duke Stanley kept studying the blades. One after another he tested the sharpness, found hidden compartments with poisons and places to leave secret messages and hummed briefly at the clawed glove that for someone as noble as His Grace must've seemed especially barbaric. It was highly frowned upon to fight with one's hands in noble circles. A knight could be fired and exiled on the spot if he was caught fighting like a common criminal.
"If I'm your knight I cannot go around punching people. It's not honorable." Jimmy pouted. "Your Grace." He added in a haste, cursing himself for forgetting the proper etiquette again.
Jimmy's Grace rolled his eyes and slumped down to the floor. "Oh come on, Jimmy. I don't wanna play anymore if I don't get to punch something. Swords are booooring."
Jimmy thought it best not to correct his Grace by telling him that the knight was supposed to do all of the fighting anyways.
"But only commoners punch and we're supposed to be nobles now aren't we?" Jimmy said instead.
"…"
"Your Grace?"
"I wish we weren't. They're all stupid and mean."
Jimmy shook the memory from his mind and focused back on Duke Stanley. He had finished with the obvious weapons and was now examining the bracelet Jimmy wore almost everyday.
It contained a small magical blade that its bonded owner could pull out and command at will. It was his smallest, but most deadliest weapon. The magic forged into the metal was faint and easily missed for most magicians and its cuts were swift and clean. The moment you came too close or confused it with a simple accessory it would be too late.
Duke Stanley rubbed over the bracelet's small snake shaped head that marked its handle.
"There is just one thing I don't understand."
He put the bracelet on and held his arm out to admire it. Just one command, one thought and the snake would slither out of its sheath and cut the Duke's wrist in a way that would let him bleed out long before help would arrive.
"Why am I still alive? You had plenty of opportunities to kill me before.
Jimmy had no answer.
"I swore an oath." He explained, more to himself than Duke Stanley. But that oath had been a lie. He did not care about the oath, not when he made it. It was an order from a woman who was just as bad as her husband and Jimmy was nothing but a commoner. He grew up without the privilege of honor and loyalty. The oath of a knight was nothing but empty words he had to say to help the world get rid of yet another piece of noble filth.
Jimmy gritted his teeth and looked up in defiance.
"You are a bad liar for an assassin." The Duke's smile was wicked. It could not be anything else. He was an empty husk of a person who only smiled for the Duchess. His eyes crinkled for her and his lips turned upwards, never showing the imperfection of his teeth.
A smile so wicked and evil that no one and nothing would dare to return it, not even the Duke's reflection itself.
The large golden mirror that always loomed in the back of the room moved closer.
Duke Stanley turned around and faced his reflection. It mirrored his movements but the person inside was someone else. The man was bigger and stronger than the Duke with arms made for fighting and his short hair, wild and unkempt. Rough skin in a healthy color and features not hidden by layers of make up and gold. A gaped toothed smile and warm expressive eyes. The same eyes that Jimmy had longed for for all those years. The man was draped in a thick fur coat, expensive but practical. He looked like a leader you'd follow on instinct, one you would willingly give your life for. The same man that Jimmy had loved since he was little less than a parasite living on the edge of society.
Duke Stanley reached out to his reflection.
"So that is how you see me?"
"Don't touch him you bastard!" Jimmy barked out and dashed forward, furious with the Duke. With himself.
He made an oath before, but not to the Duke. To the man inside the mirror. No. to the child that never had the opportunity to grow up into him. The child, his friend, the first and only person Jimmy had ever willingly swore an oath to, Shanklin.
Jimmy had no doubt his friend, His Grace , would've grown up to be the stuff of legends. Someone standing up to the injustice of the noble houses and would change their country forever. His Grace had been a simple chore boy for the Noble House of Pines, not much better than a slave, but he still acted with more honor and chivalry than any of the filth that ruled their lands.
"Stay." Duke Stanley ordered in tandem with the kid in the mirror both turning around at the same time. His Grace grinning up, Duke Stanley glaring down unpassionately
Jimmy obeyed for he had taken an oath now, hadn't he?
They had been two children playing pretend in the dirty streets. Just for fun, Jimmy had knelt down in front of His Grace and made up an oath of loyalty, one that he thought a proper knight might do for his lord. It had been easy to imagine Shanklin as his lord and easier to dedicate his life to him.
His Grace had been so much smarter than Jimmy, more calculating, but also a noble at heart. A true noble. One who cared for and served the people around him. One, who would take what little riches he had and share them among the poorer folk, people like Jimmy who had nothing and no one.
It had been just a game, but when little Jimmy knelt down in front of His Grace, said his clumsy words and kissed the makeshift ring made of weeds on his hand it had felt important and real.
Jimmy held his oath close to his heart. It was a secret that he wasn't sure Shanklin remembered after they stopped playing, but it meant the world to Jimmy. It gave him a purpose and they, Duke Stanley and his family, killed him. They killed his friend, His Grace, the little chore boy in their castle with the wide smile and big personality, because he had stolen food and a warm coat for Jimmy to survive in the winter.
He had sworn to kill every single member of the Pines family and eradicate that noble house with his own two hands but all Jimmy had managed to do until now was getting seduced by those cold dead eyes of his. He was no better than the Duchess, than any noble of this land and it disgusted him.
He had to put this right and kill the Duke before he could put yet another spell on Jimmy, but his body refused to move. He shook in anger at the Duke, at himself, but stayed put, because His Grace commanded it.
"You look like a shriveled tomato, Jimmy." His Grace laughed carefree and oblivious to the danger he was in.
"Please, Your Grace, step away from him" Jimmy pleaded. Shanklin waved the concerns away.
"Pff, Mr. Fancy Shmancy over here? I could knock him out in one punch, like so!" The child punched the air. "Baam!"
Duke Stanley looked unimpressed.
"This is your lord?"
Jimmy growled at the disrespect.
"Yes , and he's much nobler than you could ever hope to be."
"Is that so?"
"I am his. I swore an oath." Jimmy explained, reminded himself, repeated so he would never forget, never again sway from his path.
The Duke smiled.
"You seem to give those a lot."
The Duke reached inside the mirror and lifted the boy's chin up.
"What was his name again?" He shifted the child's face from right to left.
Invisible chains dug into Jimmy's arms and chest. His legs felt nailed to the floor. The harder Jimmy fought against his order the more his body betrayed him. The order could not yet be broken. No direct threat was said against His Grace and no matter how filthy the hands that touched him were, they had not yet attempted to cause any harm.
His Grace didn't look scared, just disgruntled and let the Duke observe him.
"Ah, right. Shanklin, was it not?" His Grace attempted to bite the Duke, who pulled his hand away just in time. "The name of a rat that your father forces you to drown in a pond. Very befitting of him, don't you think?"
"How dare you!"
It was the name of his noble lord. One that is not spoken lightly. One that Jimmy had often tried to forget in his grief and loneliness. One he did not deserve to say anymore, not out loud at least. One he only whispered at night in his weakest moments.
Tired of inspecting, the Duke pulled His Grace out of the mirror by his hair and held his head in place.
"Hey, stop that!" His Grace yelled and clawed at the Duke's hands.
"Let him go!"
Jimmy fought against the order even if that meant tearing his body apart.
"I won't let you kill him again!"
The Duke looked down at the child in his clutches and forced his head upwards. "Did I kill you?
Shanklin glared back.
"I guess I did." The Duke smirked and gripped Shanklin's head on both sides.
"Then how about a repeat performance!"
For the first time since entering the castle, Jimmy saw a spark of life in the Duke's eyes. It was madness.
All at once the rumors about the Duke that Jimmy had long since written off as mere hearsay of jealous staff and excitement-starved handmaidens proved themselves real.
Not only was Duke Stanley lustful and greedy, but also mad with power and full of cruelty. He had seduced the Duchess, the most powerful human who has ever lived and made her his plaything by giving up his dignity. The moment the Duchess grants him her name and right to the throne, the Duke would cease it by leaving a string of corpses behind. They would all be ruled by a tyrant, a mad king that would rain suffering upon them for nothing but his own amusement and pleasure.
And Jimmy, poor stupid naive Jimmy had fallen for his trap made of honey and lies.
"Shanklin! Run!"
Decorum be damned, time was running out, but His Grace did not run.
No. He grappled with the Duke's wrist instead and pulled the blade hidden within the snake bracelet out of its sheath, something only Jimmy was supposed to be able to do.
"Don't!" Jimmy cried out and broke free, disobeying his orders to protect His Grace.
He rushed forward and stretched out his arm. The bladed glove, the one that His Grace had admired moments earlier, materialized around his hand He formed it into a claw, ready to strike.
In the blink of an eye Jimmy collided with His Grace's assailant and felt his hand stabbing through warm wet flesh. The ribs gave away like twigs under the force and then he felt it, the soft bumps of a beating heart. He pulled away and watched as the blood soaked heart beat in his hand.
ba-bump
ba-bump
ba-bump
The child lay motionless on the ground, blood oozing from its small chest and staining the rags Jimmy wore in a deep red. He absentmindedly noted that his shoes looked just like they did when he roamed the streets as a kid. Some tattered fabric bound together in a mockery of protection. It was the best he could do before Shanklin gifted him a proper pair.
ba-bump
ba-bump
ba-bump
Jimmy squeezed the heart gently.
ba-
ba-bump
What.
What was it doing in his hand?
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Jimmy looked up at His Grace for guidance, cradling the beating heart to his chest.
"Are you hurt Your Grace?"
Jimmy smiled but it turned into a grimace.
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His Grace's expression was unreadable, but not empty. Maybe it was just the remnants of the madness that had possessed him but they looked at Jimmy for once, not through him.
His Grace knelt down beside him and placed his hand on Jimmy's cheek.
Jimmy flinched and then crumbled into the hold. The touch was the only thing holding him together.
He whimpered.
His Grace should not kneel and dirty himself with the blood that Jimmy has spilled in his name. He was unworthy of his care.
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His Grace wiped Jimmy's tears away with his thumb.
"You make an awful assassin, my knight in bloody rags."
His voice was soft. It did not befit him. Jimmy should be hanged for hearing it.
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"You killed the wrong person."
Jimmy shook his head, but could not deny it.
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"Here, let me show you how it's done."
Duke Stanley reached for the blade and held it against his throat.
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"No, please, please don't" Jimmy sobbed and clutched at the hand cradling his face.
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"Shh, quiet now. Watch and learn."
"No-no, please"
slice
ba-ba-
The heart stopped beating. Duke Stanley fell to the ground right next to the child that Jimmy had killed for him. The blood poured out of his throat and mixed with the child's until they both disappeared in a pool of red.
Jimmy squeezed the heart but it stayed still.
He turned towards the mirror and saw a monster looking back.
It bowed.
Jimmy opened his eyes and struggled to find his breath. His chest moved up and down but his lungs were still filled with blood.
He curled up into a small ball and hit his head with his fists until his ears rang.
It was just a dream, Jimmy told himself. It was just a dream. It wasn't real. He didn't kill Shanklin, not like this at least. The Duke was still alive. Still his target.
Jimmy had stayed here for far too long. He had gotten comfortable and spent too much time with the Duke. He had gotten attached in the same way some prisoners did to their captors.
This dream was a reminder of what he had yet to do. Nothing more.
Kill the Duke.
Get revenge for his friend.
And and…
Jimmy groaned as he felt stickiness around his crotch.
And most importantly get laid.
This hasn't happened since way before he came of age.
What kind of assassin couldn't keep it in his pants when faced with an attractive target?
He really needed to get out of here.
He changed his clothes, hid the evidence in the darkest corner of his empty room, grabbed his sword and was out of the door before he could think more about what happened in his dream. Swinging his sword at a dummy until either he or the dummy collapsed was the right way to deal with the guilt and the temptations that have carved a hole into his chest and left him bleeding, so much blood, a beating heart in his hand, a cut throat, corpses of his masters at his feet. Two betrayals that could never be forgiven.
"Fuck." Jimmy screamed and broke the dummy. "Fuck fuck fuck." He kicked it for good measure.
"Sir James."
Jimmy turned around. A couple of knights stood in a half circle behind him, blocking his path. He could probably escape by climbing the wall or ducking and slithering between them, but that would give away his less than knightly past.
"The Duke has summoned you."
Shit. Jimmy cursed inwardly. The Duke was the last person he wanted to see right now.
"Of course." Jimmy didn't bother to hide the falseness of his smile. He wanted them to know just how unwelcome their presence was. "I'll be going then."
Jimmy stepped around the knights but the biggest one grabbed his arm.
"Nuh uh uh, not yet." What was his name again? He never bothered to remember. "Our dear Duke wanted us to give you a present first." The knight smirked and held up some chains, handcuffs and a collar.
Jimmy stared at the leather adored with Duke Stanley's sigil. "Shit."
They dragged Jimmy by the collar through the castle with his hands locked tightly behind his back. The staff stared at them with barely concealed whispers and grins, just like they did when Duke Stanley had walked past them with bleeding feet in golden shoes after he had finally been dismissed by the Duchess.
Jimmy had expected the Duke to take them off the moment the Duchess was out of sight, but the Duke just kept walking at a steady pace, his head held high. The perfect image of nobility.
Jimmy kept his eyes on the floor and followed the bloody footsteps. The sharp edges of the shoes had dug deeply into the Duke's flesh and tore it up further with every step. Was the Duke even human? How could he walk without flinching or crying out? Would he die when Jimmy cut off his head or would he keep staring at him with the same eyes that seemed to have been dead a long time ago.
A part of him grew scared of hurting the Duke and seeing no reaction, another one excited.
They stopped in front of the Dukes chambers on the other side of the castle.
"Bring me some hot water and a cloth. Leave it outside. Knock when you're done. Then you're dismissed."
"Yes, Your Grace." Jimmy bowed and when he looked up the Duke was already behind the door.
Jimmy turned to leave but stopped when he heard a dull thud from the Dukes chambers. He leaned in closer. A pause, then some shuffling followed a muffled moan and whimpers. Retching.
His hand hovered over the door handle. The retching turned into sobs and quiet sniffles. Jimmy retracted his hand and walked away. Water first, then he would put Duke Stanley out of his misery.
Jimmy ignored the stares, raised his head and straightened his back. For now, he was still the personal knight of His Grace. He would not bow down to common scum.
The knights slammed him down when they reached the throne hall and hollered. What pathetic excuses for nobility. Jimmy spat at their feet which garnered him a kick to the side.
The chains they wound him in were locked in place into cavities in ground meant to hold criminals that begged the Duchess for their lives.
clack
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Jimmy closed his eyes. Those awful shoes.
Surely he would do the Duke a favor by killing him.
Jimmy feared what would happen to him if he didn't and got lost in the fantasy of being a knight for a cruel selfish noble that demanded his everything and only granted him a look of disdain in return.
What would happen if he allowed himself to be the protector of this tragic figure, who was supposed to have everything, but was littered in nothing but scars and bruises if you bothered to take a second glance. A man who was real only in the moments that were not being seen.
"Leave."
The order was absolute and Jimmy wished he could follow.
The knights behind grumbled and protested but left when the Duke's silence lingered in the air.
The Duke strutted past him, the faint familiar smell of burned lavender and mugwort following his steps.
He lowered his head. Minutes passed, but only the aftertaste of the smell remained.
Has the Duke left? Was he watching? Jimmy's body burned with anticipation. He dug his fingers and nails into the cracks in the ground and concentrated on the pain to shut down his thoughts.
"Raise your head." Duke Stanley demanded and Jimmy obeyed. There, on elevated ground stood the golden throne of the Duchess, now occupied by her husband. It was a challenge, a declaration of war, treason of the highest order to take the throne of the Duchess, who held more power than the king himself. Even as her legal husband he had no right to take her seat.
It suited him.
"You haven't answered my question."
Duke Stanley leaned his head against his hand propped up on the armrest and observed Jimmy as if he were a bug.
"Forgive me, Your Grace. I do not understand."
Duke Stanley sighed. Should Jimmy apologize again?
"Why am I still alive, assassin?"
The world tilted. Assassin. Assassin. It was impossible. Jimmy grew numb. Did the dream not end? Was he trapped?
His thoughts escaped him like sand running through his hands.
There was only one answer he could give. One truth that remained.
"I swore an oath."
Duke Stanley scoffed and got up from the throne.
"You said some pretty words the scribe wrote for you."
"They still hold true."
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Duke Stanley took his time walking towards Jimmy. His shoes were clean as ever and shining. Jimmy wondered if they would still taste of blood.
Jimmy was pulled out of his thoughts by Duke Stanley tugging the chain connected to his collar forward and forcing Jimmy to face him.
"You were lying then. I need a knight, not an assassin."
Duke Stanley slammed the chain to the ground and the link that connected them just for a moment was gone as quickly as it came. The loss was unbearable.
Jimmy propped himself up on one knee and lowered his head.
"I'm not good with words, Your Grace. But if you would have me, then please, let me make another oath."
"Do as you wish."
"It-" Jimmy was unsure how to start. The words he had been given the first time were much more fitting for such a solemn occasion. Jimmy never had the privilege to study anything other but the art of killing and all the words he had were that of a beggar. He had nothing of worth to offer the Duke. It felt like an insult to even try.
"It is true. I am, I was an assassin, a mercenary who was hired to take your life for money and to avenge my childhood friend but I-" Jimmy choked on his words, bowed down deeper, closed his eyes tighter. The guilt of what he was about to do was eating him alive. There was no turning back after this. Once he gave his oath his life belonged to the Duke. He would betray himself and his friend and the oath he had given once before. Jimmy dared to look up at His Grace covered in golden light coming from the windows above and signed his fate.
"But I James, no Jimmy, who was born without family and a proper name, hereby vow to leave my past behind and offer myself to you, body, mind and soul. I am yours to do as you please. I vow to follow your orders as you demand and to stay by your side and protect you from harm until the day I lay my life down for you and breathe my last breath.
Jimmy had spoken his piece but His Grace stayed quiet. He must've messed up.
"My soul and heart are yours even after my death." His Grace stayed quiet. "And I vow to keep you happy and and healthy to the best of my abilities." Jimmy flushed in embarrassment. His Grace shifted, but said nothing.
"Forgive me, Your Grace. I am bad with words. If you want me to do any corrections…"
"Your words were fine, but I need something more from you."
"Anything you wish, Your Grace."
"Tell me, why should I trust your oath when you've spoken similar words to someone else before?"
"Did I do it right, Shank-your Grace?" Shanklin snorted and plopped down next to him.
"Dunno, you're my first knight. I have no idea how these things usually go. We probably forgot some stupid rules like clucking around like a chicken first." Jimmy giggled. "But I think the intention is more important anyways."
Shanklin bumped their shoulders together and leaned against Jimmy, who tried very hard not to blush when their fingers connected.
"You meant it, right? Protecting me, no matter what?"
Jimmy nodded furiously.
"Yes, of course."
"Even if I turned out to be a bad person? Would you still stick by my side?"
"Of course, Your Grace." He said with a smirk, not believing for one second that would ever be the case. It must've been the right thing to say, because Shanklin grabbed his hand tighter and leaned his head on Jimmy's shoulder.
"Even if we grow up and I turn out to be secretly some rich, stuck up noble who is like super dumb and bad with swords and so useless that not even his family wants him around? Even then?"
"Yes, Your Grace. Even then."
"It was a game between children, Your Grace"
Duke Stanley pulled him forward again by the chain.
"An oath is an oath. How can I be sure that you are mine?"
"My friend is dead, Your Grace."
Duke Stanley bent down and studied Jimmy's face, his eyes searching for something.
"What if he wasn't? What if you meet him again? If you want me to believe you, vow that you will kill him when you see him again. Vow that you will rip out his heart and present it to me as a sign of your devotion."
Jimmy did not dare to blink and took Duke Stanley's features.
"Yes, Your Grace." Jimmy took on the guilt and the shame and let it settle into his heart. He accepted it. For His Grace, Jimmy would become the monster in the mirror. "That I vow."
Duke Stanley let go of the chain and nodded. "Then I am satisfied."
He took off his gloves and held out his hand. This time, there were no rings for Jimmy to kiss except for the small unassuming snake bracelet slithering up His Grace's hand and curling around the fingers.
Careful not to touch an inch of His Grace's skin, Jimmy kissed the hidden blade and retreated.
"Unlock the chains."
His Grace commanded and Jimmy obeyed. He hadn't survived this long without learning a couple of tricks.
"All except that one." His Grace pointed at the collar. "It's quite useful, don't you think?"
Jimmy flushed and tried very hard not to think about his dream. "Yes, Your Grace." He stammered. This part of his knighthood still needed some work.
"You'll be accompanying me into the Crying Woods." His Grace turned to leave. "Be ready in an hour."
The Crying Woods, a part of the forest barely anyone except the Duchess ever made it out alive. A monster infested terrain that modern magic had yet to tame. Going there without an army was nothing less than a death sentence especially on such short notice.
Jimmy bowed his head and obeyed.
"Yes, Your Grace."