"So lay out everything you want from me," the man tapped on the paper he slid onto the table between them. The girl sipped on the teacup a servant had handed her, ignoring the sound of Mateo screaming outside of the window. The tea tasted minty and mildly sweet, leaving a cool sensation in her mouth.
She would have preferred if it was sweeter.
"I don't know how to write," the girl admitted, setting the thin teacup down without so much as a clatter onto the porcelain plate.
"Then how about you just tell me what you want," he figured, flicking the pen in his hands. It spun around his knuckles before he grabbed it again in one fluid motion.
"How about we start with your name?" She asked him, kicking her boots against the couch she was on.
"My name?" He seemed confused and she gave a nod for him to continue. "Very well, then. My full name is Engel Des la Lunes, duke of the Des la Lunes manor and right hand of the emperor. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," she agreed, licking some of the remaining peppermint flavor sticking to her lips.
"So then what is your name?" Engel asked. She peered up at him.
"I don't have a name."
"That won't do." He considered something to himself for a moment, looking her over. "As someone who is now part of the Des la Lunes manor, you can't accept having less than everything. There is now nothing that you can't have. I suppose this means that I shall give you a name."
She looked at him curiously.
A name was an identity, a sense of who you were and a connection with those around you. She had been trained to distance herself from those around her and a name was crossing that line into dangerous territory.
But then she thought of her apprentice's face when he told her his name and how she had written that in her heart. It felt a little embarrassing for her to admit to herself, but she wanted to tell him her name.
She wanted to hear him say it.
"What are you thinking about?" Engel asked her. She blinked, looking up.
"Someone cute. Why?"
"You're making a weird face."
A boy that had been refilling the girl's tea fixed the duke with a look, making him clear his throat into his fist.
"Your face is lovely," he corrected himself.
"It is, isn't it?" She grinned. The duke's eyelids lowered slightly in a glower.
"Yukimi," he decided suddenly, making the emotionless boy sputter. He looked aghast.
"You're naming this child after your childhood cat?" He asked, his voice monotone.
"Yes," the duke agreed, taking a slow drink out of his bitter coffee.
"Yukimi," the girl repeated softly to herself before smiling. It wasn't a wicked grin, but an actual smile, one that made certain muscles in her face ache from how little she used them. "Thank you for the name. I shall treasure it."
The sincerity in what she said almost made the duke feel bad for putting so little thought in her name, but, looking at her, he felt there was no other name that would have suited a mischievous girl like her as well.
"How old are you?" He suddenly wondered. She thought she acted like a toddler and looked young enough he wouldn't really question if she was, but she spoke and held herself more mature than he would expect–especially for a child that grew up on the streets.
"Around eleven, I'd guess." Her lips parted as the boy took away the teacup she had picked up. He hit her hands lightly as she reached for it, dropping in a cube of sugar and stirring it in before handing it back to her. "Who is this?" She gestured towards him.
"He's to be your valet and shall be here to attend to all of your needs. He'll help you get accustomed to the manor."
"What if I don't want him?"
"You don't get a choice."
"Well, aren't you generous?"
"For someone who was just on the streets, aren't you rather stingy?"
"Didn't you just say there's now nothing that I can't have?"
"Except for this. You can't have this."
"Write a line in the contract," she decided. "That anything I say, goes." He obliged, but she grew suspicious of his passive face. "Wait, valet, tell me what he wrote."
"Anything that Yukimi says shall be taken as law and upheld by everyone in the manor," he read and Engel nodded along, "as long as it has been approved by the duke."
"You fiend."
"I can get you a new valet if you really want."
"No way," she shook her head. "I've decided that I want him."
"Do you have to go against me with everything?"
"I'm not going against you, I have my own opinions. They just happen to be the opposite of yours."
"Right," he drawled. "Just happen to."
"I guess the next thing that I'll add is that this contract will only be valid for a year. I don't plan on staying much longer than that."
"A year?" He seemed confused. "You only plan on staying a year?"
"I don't wish to impose."
"No," he shot her down, tapping the first line of the contract. "I don't approve of this choice. Now that you've gone and bothered me like this, you're not allowed to just leave."
"And bothered you? Excuse you, I am a delight."
"...Pardon?"
"Hey, valet, aren't I a delight?"
"You are a delight," he duly agreed. She grinned at the duke.
"Look, you're adjusting to life here already," he figured. "No need to leave."
"I'm willing to put the discussion off for now," she shrugged, not seeing the point in pressing it right now. If he truly wouldn't let her leave, she could always run away. "The next thing I want is an allowance."
He wrote something down and she looked expectantly at her valet.
"Yukimi shall be given a weekly allowance and any extra funds she'll need," he said, "but has to meet with and get approval from the duke first."
"Is that going to be a quantifier for everything you add?"
"Yes."
"The next thing I want is books. Any book that I request, I want to be able to receive with no question." There was a pause. "Why aren't you writing anything down?"
"Because something like that is a given," he explained.
She'd been downplaying it this whole time because she was afraid if she acknowledged it then it would stop, but the duke, for however imposing he was, was very generous to her.
Too generous for her liking.
"What is it that you want from me?" She wondered, expecting something grandiose for all that he was offering her.
"You are to attend dinner every night in the dining hall," he explained as he wrote. "And if you aren't able to attend, you are to send someone who'll explain why you can't attend. You'll attend basic lessons from etiquette to magic theory and if you find any of the teachers unsatisfactory for any reason you are to tell me. When attending events, you are to attend as my daughter. If anyone says anything to you going against that, you are to tell me."
His voice softened the longer he was talking until he was muttering silently under his breath as he continued to write. The girl clasped her hands tightly in her lap, staring down, her face burning.
She hated feeling like this.
"Why are you doing all of this for me?" She had to know. He looked up at her, seeing her despondent expression.
"Because," he sighed, "you remind me of myself. I know what it is to grow up with such a heavy curse hanging over your head. To distance yourself from others to keep from hurting them and knowing they could never understand."
"So it's just because I happen to be cursed?"
"I'm afraid my answer really is that simple."
"I don't like it," she admitted. "I don't like owing debts to people and this deal doesn't seem very mutual. I am gaining far more than you."
"I didn't think you would turn down something that leads you to that goal you're working towards. You seem very headstrong."
"I didn't think I would either. But I also didn't think I'd meet someone who would lend me such a generous hand."
"Don't think about it like that then. Think about it in terms that I owe a debt to you."
"How do you mean?"
"Signing this contract would mean that you are now my daughter. That meant that for eleven years of your life I was neglectful and owe you that time and attention."
It was like the reverse of her curse, kind words that made her skin itch and want to jump out the window. It brought up the words her mother had said to her, words she had never, could never forget.
"You must learn to love yourself," her mother had warned her, "because no one else will ever be able to love a cursed child like you."
"So we shall be the cursed duke and the cursed girl?" She figured, blinking up.
"Like father," he held out a hand to her, "like daughter."
"Where do I sign?"
He helped her to spell out her name, deciding only on Yuki instead of Yukimi, the nickname easier for her to manage.
"It's official then," he put a hand on her head. It was something she did all of the time to Mateo, but never had it done to her in turn. "I have to leave to take care of some business I've been putting off. Melius will show you around. If you have any questions, you can ask him. And if he doesn't know, he'll direct you towards me."
She watched him leave, his thick cloak rustling loudly behind him though his footsteps were silent.
"So your name is Melius then?" She asked the boy. He nodded, standing politely at her side. "What do you make out of all of this?"
"That the duke is a generous man," he agreed with her thoughts.
"I feel that it is a generosity wasted on me."
"That is how I felt, too."
"I think I'm starting to realize why the duke assigned you to me."
"It seems he is also wise."
"Can you show me to where my room is?"
"It would be my honor." As he bowed, his dark blue hair glistened brightly with the sunlight shining through the window. This close, she could see flecks of gold in his dark eyes.
"I am in your care."
…
"Ow, what the-?"
"Bring up your sword higher. Where you have it, even if you block the hit, you'll still be affected by the impact."
"I realized," Mateo wheezed, doubled over.
"Come on, get up. Think about the reason you're training. Use that to fire yourself up."
"I don't think she'd like it if I were to use her as just a reason."
"You're fighting for a girl, eh? Why wouldn't she like that?"
"She'd want me to have the strength to stand on my own for my own reasons, not for her. Something or other because she won't be around forever."
"Then get the strength to stand up for yourself, so that you can stand up for her. She's right though. If you can't stand up for yourself," he hit him with the blunt end of the blade and Mateo toppled over, "you'll fall for anything."