The days at the duke’s manor were hellish, to put it mildly. If Hell was as bad as this, I would be a saint starting tomorrow and hope that I would make it to Heaven. My experience was inexplicably awful. We weren’t allowed to speak without permission, and if we showed any sort of defiance, we had spells rammed down our throats. We were forced to run while we carried sandbags and swim through a river in full suits of armor. We had to find jewels the size of pebbles thrown into a forest, and I began to think that the orphanage and my house were much better places to be.
We were even taught letters and etiquette. If we didn’t learn fast enough, we were hung from the highest balcony in the manor with a rope as we read through several books. Every thirty minutes, we would be brought back in and tested on whether we’d retained the information. If we got any questions wrong, we were personally kicked down to the bottom by the duke’s daughter.
“Isn’t this the best place to quietly get some reading in?” she had said.
It was the best location, all right. I had nothing else I could do, and the rope left marks all over my body for a good while. Thanks to that—though I wouldn’t want to express any gratitude—I quickly learned how to read and write, along with proper etiquette. Since I trained like crazy every day, I soon became much stronger.
Minor injuries could be healed swiftly by the duke’s personal physician, but even a competent healer couldn’t seem to fix the insanity that went on in the mind of the duke’s daughter.
The intensity of our training escalated. One day, she suddenly forced us to look after puppies. I couldn’t understand her intentions at all. Lewis claimed that raising a dog would be an excellent experience for us, but in a situation where I could die at any moment, I couldn’t see how taking care of a mutt would be good for me.
Does she think that raising a dog would pardon us and allow us to go to Heaven upon death? I doubt it.
I was admittedly reluctant at first, but the dogs were cute. They soothed my desolate heart. It wasn’t the duke’s manor that had made me this way—I’d likely had a hardened heart even before I entered the orphanage. And yet, this tiny creature showered me with love. I could hardly believe it. Never in my life had I ever dared to utter a word like “love.”
When the orphanage preached about the love of God, I didn’t have faith in it. How could I? I was abandoned by my parents and hadn’t been taught love by the people who were supposed to shower me with it. None of us had received any sort of affection. I—no, we orphans had assumed that love was just some sort of imaginary concept.
I couldn’t trust others. They could string together pretty words, but I didn’t know what their true thoughts were. A mouth that could expel sweet platitudes could easily hurt and betray others in the same breath.
Dogs, however, were different. They had no ulterior motives; they were honest, laying themselves bare in front of me. My dog looked happy when it was fed and was equally excited when I played with it. Inversely, it looked sad when I didn’t give it any attention, and when I was annoyed, it sensed my emotions and expressed its unhappiness.
Dogs were simple creatures and were no trouble at all. This pup didn’t just like me because I gave it food. I loved it, and it loved me back.
“You orphans are lacking in spirit,” that bratty girl had told us.
And she was exactly right. We were lacking in heart and spirit. We didn’t have enough love, and we were starved for it. Betrayed by our own parents, we couldn’t trust the love other people showed us. Isabel and Oscar were the same. When they began to raise their own dogs, their prickly expressions and attitudes began to soften. I was probably the same.
She—Lady Serena—had seen right through us since the beginning.
Even if training was unreasonably tough, I was desperate to survive and make it back because my dog was waiting for me. Before I knew it, we had all become much stronger. In fact, the duke was gracious enough to praise me and claimed that I could become a knight if I so desired. I wasn’t alone in my growth—the others were also told that they could become knights or mages if they wanted. We could receive excellent jobs. I hadn’t even dreamed of such a bright future when I was at the orphanage.
It pained me to admit it, but the daily hellish training had produced results. Through the trials and tribulations that we overcame, we endured unreasonable demands, and our hearts and bodies became tougher than steel.
In the year we turned fourteen, Lady Serena called us out to the garden with our dogs with the brightest smile on her face. I was prepared for another round of our usual harsh training when she was called by His Grace. She left to meet with her father, and when she returned, she continued her speech.
“You will be my squires,” she told us.
She said that we were now bonded for life as siblings and that she was eternal—implying that as her squires, we would be the same. Truthfully, I didn’t really understand what she was on about, but tears filled my eyes.
We all cried. We had received the seal of approval from that demon—the awful woman who I hated with every fiber of my being.
So, why was I so happy? I didn’t have a clue, but the tears wouldn’t stop, and our dogs comforted us. Lady Serena waited for us to stop crying before she continued speaking.
“I will bring you all to visit His Majesty the King,” she said. “Your dogs will come along too.”
What a day! A commoner would never have the honor of meeting the king. I realized that Lady Serena had trained us for this day. This will be our first job as her official squires!
It was then I swore my eternal loyalty to my master.