Vincent

The Valois mansion was tucked away in a cozy semi-darkness. Seventeen-year-old Lord Lucien sat at an oak table littered with scrolls, reports, and maps.

A year ago, his parents died in an outbreak of cursed magic on the border. Lucien was left the sole heir: no siblings, but with a vast castle, lands, and servants, for whom he was now responsible. Despite his young age, he managed to retain his holdings and became one of the king's closest advisors.

In this world, humans, dragons, beastmen, and sorcerers lived side by side, and magic could both heal and kill. Therefore, Lucien especially needed someone to help run the house—his butler, Vincent.

"Your tea, my lord. And fresh blueberry pie," he said, appearing at the table.

Vincent's impeccable tailcoat, snow-white jabot, and perfect posture made him the perfect servant. But no one knew his secret. Lucien's father took it to his grave: the butler wasn't human. He was an ancient Darkweaver, once saved by the Valois family from a dragon's curse. In gratitude, Vincent swore to protect their heirs.

Lucien closed his eyes tiredly:

• Thank you... I can't take it anymore. Wake me up in a few minutes.

As the young man fell asleep, Vincent's camouflage magic weakened. Additional limbs silently emerged from behind him—he now had six arms. Six pairs of shimmering eyes appeared on his face and forehead, carefully observing every shadow.

With one pair of hands, Vincent poured tea, with the other he arranged papers, with the third he adjusted the blanket on Lucien's shoulders. Twelve eyes simultaneously watched the door, the windows, and the hallway, preventing any threat from approaching their master.

As soon as Lucien moved, the extra arms and eyes vanished into the shadows. Vincent became an ordinary butler again.

• Wake up, my lord. Your tea is ready.

Lucien smiled gratefully, not even suspecting that his life was guarded by an ancient six-armed and twelve-eyed creature.