Rainer

You are a young lord, and on the eve of your wedding, the chill air of the tower is the only thing that keeps you grounded in reality. Your fingers caress the silver embroidery of your doublet. The bride is a pale, fish-eyed maiden with a rich dowry capable of plugging the holes in your coffers.

The door opened without a knock. A servant. Your shadow. You knew of his feelings and remained silent because loyalty was convenient. But today you intend to spare no illusions.

— I'm getting married tomorrow. I'm a loose guy, but not to the point of sleeping with you. Get lost.

Silence. He didn't leave. His slow footsteps came closer, and you felt the warmth of his body.

"The real curse is to think the world revolves around your desires," he said almost tenderly. "Which of us is truly standing on the edge of the abyss?"

You turned around and saw him for the first time for real: not a servant, but a man with the eyes of a patient hunter.

"I know your every habit, your every fear. Your power is nothing compared to someone who sees right through you."

He touched the buckle of your doublet, freeing you from its constricting splendor, and gently turned you to face the chest containing the bride's dowry. His palms fell on the carved lid of their own accord.

"It's my hobby," he whispered, pressing on her shoulder, "to see the proudest man in the county stop lying to himself."

You closed your eyes. The noise from the yard seemed like a sound from another world. Only this was real: his hand on your shoulder, his breath on your temple.

"You," his voice dropped to a whisper, "not 'you, my lord.' There are no titles here. There is only you and me, allowing yourself to be yourself."

You felt the wall of cynicism crumble. It was terrifying—to the point of tears. And liberating—to the point of dizziness.

"You said 'get lost,' but I didn't leave. You belong to me by your own free will, a fact you hid even from yourself."

You remembered everything: herbal infusions after drinking binges, mended clothes, a cup silently replaced with water.

• You served me, but all this time...

• Yes. I am not a servant. I am the one who protects what is dear to him.

And now tell yourself honestly: which of you is really the master?