Lord Rokkan’s Private Toy

by Hutchins, Hollie

  The following morning, Cal insisted on accompanying his daughter on her way to the leader’s quarters. He was worried, she could tell, although he was attempting not to show it. He rambled most of the way, talking about his and Iris’s new work assignment and how excited he was to be around live animals. When they started down the dirt path which led to the doors of the enormous castle like structure, which for decades had housed the leaders of District One and his/her cohorts. Megan had never been inside the castle, nonetheless, inside the walls which surrounded it. Her dad was the only Zandle who had been. Just after Ollie was born, Cal applied for a promotion in the trash department to try and bring in some more money and allow Iris to take some much needed time off. The new job had him picking up garbage around the castle grounds, and his lunch breaks he could take in the castle kitchen.

  He only lasted a few weeks. The work environment was, as Cal liked to say, simply too toxic. The stories he told Megan as she was growing up, however, made the whole experience seem a lot less “toxic” and a lot more nightmarish. Apparently, the castle guards would openly mock him and make random, unprompted threats. When he went inside the castle to eat lunch, his meal was taken from him, sometimes by force, almost every day. They would take their trash and leftovers outside with them after the finished eating, and throw it all over the areas Cal had spent the whole morning cleaning.

  It was Iris who eventually convinced him to quit. She could no longer handle hearing about what he was being subjected to. She told him the stress his job was causing her was negatively outweighing the relief she initial felt from the higher paycheck, and he took up his old position the next day.

  “It will probably be different for you,” Cal said once him and Megan ran out of small talk. “These draaks seem a lot less aggressive, and the prince appointed you himself, so that’s got to count for something…” He trailed off. He switched Megan’s duffle bag from one hand to the other.

  “I’m not worried,” Megan lied. “I can handle myself.”

  Cal put an arm around her shoulders. “I know you can. You’re stronger than the lot of us.” They walked together, arm and arm, for a bit. “You’ll let us know if you’re not happy at this new job though right? I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this for the family or for the money. You know we’d all rather you be happy and safe than have fancy food or a new stove or something else we just don’t need.”

  Megan laughed. “Oh we definitely need a new stove.” She smiled up at her dad. “But I understand what you’re saying.”

  He gave her shoulders a slight squeeze. “Good.”

  They were at the front gates. Kidam was standing outside, cleaning the barrel of her pistol with a piece of cloth.

  “You’re late,” she said to Megan, ignoring Cal completely.

  “Are we?” said Cal. “It’s before seven.”

  “The other girl is already here. She got here nearly an hour ago and she’s already in the

  kitchen cooking away.” She raised her eyebrows at Cal. “Are you here to work as well?”

  “No.” Cal gave her a sweet smile. “I just thought I’d walk her to her first day. Would it, uh, be possible for me to go inside?”

  “That will not be possible,” said Kidam. “I have orders to bring her and only her into the castle walls.”

  Cal turned his body towards Megan. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

  Megan couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by the whole display. It wasn’t that she cared what Kidam, or any of the draaks thought of her, but she had no idea what she was walking into and it would have been nice to not be known as a scared “daddy’s girl” right off the bat.

  “I’ll be fine dad.” She hugged him. “I’ll see you on my day off.”

  They broke away from each other, and Cal looked down at his feet immediately. Megan thought me might be crying, but she didn’t want to look to verify –– she would rather not know for sure. She took her bag from him.

  “Can hurry this thing up?” said Kidam. “I have a schedule to keep.”

  Megan nodded. “Bye dad.”

  “Bye sweetheart.”

  Kidam punched a code into the keypad of the outdated gate lock. The numbers printed on the buttons were wearing off and there was dirt permanently encrusted between them. There came the sound of the metal sliding out of metal, a loud click, and then one half of the gate door swung open. Kidam motioned for Megan to go first. “After you.”

  With a final, somber look at her dad, Megan stepped through the gate.”

  * * *

  The grounds to the castle were nothing like what Megan’s dad described. A lot must’ve changed since the time Cal worked under the wolf lord. Gravel paths wound through beautifully landscaped gardens. Unlike what her dad had told her, there was not a piece of garbage in sight and all of the plants and flowers were in bloom and flourishing.

  “Wow,” Megan said. “This is… not what I was expecting.”

  Kidam grunted. “The prince has been a busy man.”

  It seemed to Megan that the draak woman was not really talking to her. She muttered something else about the prince under her breath, but Megan didn’t catch it, she was too distracted by the rose garden on her right to listen. There were over a dozen different types of roses blooming, all different shapes and colors, and all smelling absolutely amazing.

  “You mean, all of this is from him? How did he plant all this in two days?” Megan reached out and touched the petal of a large white rose whose stem was hanging over onto the path.

  “You’d have to ask one of the prince’s on-staff horticulturists, he has about ten of them.” She lowered her voice was again, but this time Megan caught what was said. “The useless flower-fuckers.”

  “He likes plants then?” Megan asked. “The prince?”

  “He likes anything pretty, expensive, and frivolous.” Kidam was smirking, but then her expression changed, as if she’d just realized she had been speaking out of term. “Enough about the gardens,” she spat angirly. “This way to the kitchen.”

  Kidam took a hard left turn and down a separate gravel path. Megan quickened her pace to keep up. They took this path around the side of the castle, although, as she got closer to the building, Megan thought it didn’t look much like a castle at all. At least, it didn’t look anything like the drawings of castles she’d seen in children’s books. Instead of being made predominantly of brick, most of the walls were glass. Where there wasn’t glass, there was aged wood with metal finishes. Megan was speechless. All the other buildings in her life were built for pure utility. This structure, on the other hand, appeared to be built for pure aesthetic pleasure. No wonder this was the place the wolf leader took when the wolves first took the District One area. It had to be something that was here before –– it was too spectacular, too delicate to be something the wolves had built.

  Kidam hooked right, arriving at a wooden door on the side of the building marked “Servants Entrance.” She put another code into a keypad and pushed down on the handle. The door opened, and a cacophony of sound erupted, flooding the previously serene gardens. Inside was a massive, industrial kitchen, about the size of the one in the mess hall except equipped with much newer, fancier appliances. Unlike most of the castle, the kitchen had solid walls, not glass ones.

  Workers, all wearing the same black, stiff-cotton uniforms, were running around carrying bowls of ingredients and platters of finished dishes. A man running with a heavy metal tray nearly brained Megan with it, but she ducked just in time. She spotted Amara off in the distance, carefully watching a woman who was sauteeing something on the stove.

  “You can grab a uniform from the closet over there,” said Kidam. “You can leave your bag in there while you work. Change in there too. When you’re done, come out and find a way to keep yourself busy.”

  “Wait, that’s it?” said Megan. “No one is going to train me?”

  “Are you asking me if someone is going to hold your hand and t
ake through every step of the way like your daddy?” She laughed. “Sorry sweetheart, but this is going to be a little different. Us draaks are an extremely self-sufficient bunch, and we expect the same from our underlings.”

  Megan swallowed the argument she had brewing. There was no use. She walked over to the closet and slipped inside. There were shelves inside, some holding kitchen supplies, the rest had stacks of uniforms. She stuffed her duffle bag on a bottom shelf and put a pile of napkins in front of it, so that it wasn’t so obvious –– not that she had anything worth stealing in there anyway, but just in case.

  Megan found a shirt that seemed like the right size and slipped it on over her tank top. She didn’t feel like wearing the black cotton pants, she performed her perfectly worn jeans. She grabbed one of the crisp white aprons and tied it around her waist. Between that and the knee-length tunic, she figured no one would even notice her pants. Allowing herself a few seconds to collect her thoughts and relieve some anxiety, Megan went back out into the chaos.

  She decided to talk to Amara first –- see how she was handling the new situation. She sidled up to the tall woman, who’s eyes were still locked on her mentee’s hands. “Hey,” Megan whispered. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s okay,” said Amara. “I’ve just been shadowing her for a while now. She told me I could.”

  “Cool, you think I could shadow her as––” The woman turned on her heel, carrying the fire-hot, cast-iron pan in both hands. Not knowing Megan was behind her as well, the skillet came within inches of burning her.

  “Watch it!” the woman yelled. “You can’t sneak up behind someone who’s cooking, yeah? I could’ve knocked the wind out of you with this here thing!”

  The way the woman was chastising her reminded Megan of Aggie, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry,” she said. “I will be more careful in the future.”

  “No,” said the woman as she shoved passed Megan and Amara and placed the hot skillet down on the metal table behind them. “In the future, you will be nowhere near me. Find someone else to shadow.” The woman left the pan and moved onto her next job. Amara offered Megan an apologetic look and ran after the woman.

  She was only five minutes into her first shift, and Megan already felt defeated. She scanned the room for someone else she could potentially shadow, but all the other chefs and waiters were working so quickly and anxiously, Megan feared she would just get in the way. She was halfway through coming up with a back-up plan when a short draak male with fiery orange skin pushed through the door to what Megan assumed was the dining room loudly called for everyone’s attention.

  “The prince wants his breakfast to be served in his room, any volunteers for servers?” The room was quiet. Apparently, they knew something Megan didn’t. “Don’t everyone go volunteering at once,” joked the draak. Again, no one stepped up to the plate. “If no one offers, I’ll just order one of you.”

  Megan wasn’t particularly excited by the prospect of being face to face with the prince again, but she couldn’t just keep standing around the kitchen like a lost idiot. She raised her hand. “I’ll go.”

  “Great!” the orange draak looked over Megan’s head. “Is his food ready?”

  One of the chefs in the back brought a heavy silver platter to Megan. There were seven plates atop it, each overflowing with food. “This is all for the prince?” She gawked at the man who handed it to her.

  He chuckled softly to himself and shook his head. “You’ll see.”

  Before Megan had a chance to prompt the chef for more information, the draak clapped three times and said, “chop, chop. Let’s go.”

  He opened the door for Megan and told her to follow him. They winded through the glass-walled dining room, down a short hallway, and up a large marble staircase. On the second floor, there was an even longer hallway, also with glass walls. Megan looked out the windows as often as she could, while also focusing on following the draak and not dropping the platter. At this height, she could see for miles behind the castle. The further from the district her eye went, the greener the area got. She’d never been further than the castle wall before. She had no idea how beautiful and healthy the area around the district was. She always assumed everything around them was brown, dead and dying, just like it was inside the district. If she’d known what was actually out there, she just might have run away with Ollie one of the hundreds of times he asked her.

  At the end of the hallway was another wooden door. The handle also had a keypad, but the screen was illuminated green, indicating it was unlocked. The draak stopped in front of it and lowered his voice. “Go inside, put the plate down on the table, and leave. Don’t say anything unless the prince addresses you first. Got it?”

  Megan nooded. “Yeah, sure, but why didn’t you just bring him his food?” she asked. “Since you had to walk me all the way up here anyway.”

  The draak frowned at her. “I didn’t bring him his food because I am not a servant. I am the prince’s personal assistant, Rekk. Bringing food is a servant’s job –– a human’s job.”

  Megan frowned back at him, but didn’t push the issue. She switched the platter to balance on her other hand, and opened the door. It was tricky at first, trying to maneuver both herself and the tray through the heavy door. She came close, twice, to falling over and taking all the food down with her, but she managed.

  Once through the door, she got both hands under the tray and walked towards the table in the middle of the room. Voices came from the corner, but Megan kept her head down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a massive bed, hanging from four ropes attached to the ceiling. The wall just left of the bed was mostly taken up to a massive, East facing window.

  “Wonderful,” the prince said. “Food’s here.”

  “Thank god!” a woman said. “I’m staaarving.”

  Ah, I see. He has company. Megan had her back turned to the bed and slowly put the plate down on the table. This must be why people don’t like to deliver the prince his breakfast.

  “It smells delicious,” said another woman.

  “I don’t see any coffee,” said a third.

  Without thinking, Megan turned around to get a look at who all was in the room. Three women were lounging in the bed. One of them was completely naked, and not trying to hide it in the least. The other two were in their underwear. The prince had gotten up and was approaching the table.

  “Oh, it’s you!” he said.

  Megan looked down at her hands, scared to look anywhere else. “Good morning, Prince Rokkan. I just came to bring your breakfast and now I’ll be out of your way.” She started to walk away but her caught her arm.

  “Hang on a second,” he said. She noticed he was also only wearing underwear, which were tighter and showed off the shape of his muscled legs. Megan realized looking down but her in directly eye line with the prince’s lower half, and she decided it was better just to look him in the eye. Which she did. “You should stay a while.” He leaned in slightly closer to her and inhaled deeply. “Smells great.” She couldn’t tell if he was talking about her or the food, which, she knew, was likely his intention. “You could have some. My girls don’t mind sharing.” Again, it was unclear what exactly he was referring to.

  Megan had just about enough of this game. “No thank you. I have to get back to work.”

  He let go of her arm and sighed. “Suit yourself.”

  She nearly ran in the opposite direction. As her hand grasped the cold metal door handle, the prince called out, “wait!”

  She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “Is there something else you need, prince Rokkan?”

  “You forgot to bring the coffee.”

  “Oh, they didn’t say… I didn’t know––”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “Honest mistake. Just go grab a pot and bring it up, won’t you? The door will be unlocked.” Then, he added, with a flirtatious tone. “It always is.”

  “Yes.” Megan opened the door. “I’ll be right back with yo
ur coffee.” Jerk.

  Chapter Seven

  A Woman’s Work is Never Done

  Megan tried to not think about her two visits with the prince as she went about the rest of her day. Luckily, after she returned from bringing the coffee, she found a chef who was willing to let her shadow him. He was an expert, and he worked swiftly, meaning Megan had to be on her toes and ready to move at any second. This kept her occupied, both physically and mentally, so she was able to forget about the events of the morning and the anger she was feeling towards the prince.

  Eventually, the long day came to an end and the dinner crew was coming on to start their shifts. Her mentee told Megan she was done for the day and to go find Rekk for her room assignment. She grabbed her duffle and went to look for the draak in the dining room. There she spotted Amara, who was already talking to the prince’s assistant.

  “You are in room five,” he was saying. “With the other new girl.”

  “Me?” Megan asked, bringing Rekk’s attention up from his clipboard. “I also started today.”

  “Then you must be the one,” said Rekk. He went back to reading. “It says here you two will be rooming upstairs.” His forehead creased. “Hmm, that’s weird. We don’t have any servant rooms upstairs. It looks like someone just wrote this in here today. The old room number is crossed off and a new one scribbled underneath.”

  “So…?” said Megan. “We should go upstairs?”

  “I guess so,” said Rekk. He pulled his gaze once again from the clipboard and smiled at the two of them. “I will double check with the prince tomorrow that this is correct, but for now, we will just do as the clipboard says. Go up the grand staircase, take a left, and your room will be the second door on the right.”

  Amara nodded. “Thank you!”

  The draak returned the gesture and left them.

  “Rekk’s not so bad,” Megan said to Amara as they ascended the staircase. “Compared to all the other draaks I’ve met so far.”