The door opened silently to reveal an elven butler.

  He stood tall—easily a head over me—his willowy grace spoiled by his expression.

  It was the same one I’d received when I first arrived in the city.

  Like he caught a huge lungful of dung - crossed with confusion.

  As if he genuinely couldn’t understand why I thought it was okay to stand before him.

  My ears prickled.

  Embarrassment?

  Anger?

  Both?

  “Hey, Princess,” It drawled beside me. “Wanna stop gawking and do your job?”

  This time, the look on the elf’s face made me feel better.

  To his credit, he quickly schooled his expression.

  “What do you want, goblin?” said Princess—I’d decided I liked the name, his tone both cool and insulting at the same time.

  I glanced at It in surprise.

  What I saw wasn’t a smile.

  It just had a lot of teeth.

  I’m glad I’m not the only one annoyed here, I thought.

  “You will show me to your master, and you will do so in a timely manner, elf,” It replied in the most acerbic monotone I had ever heard.

  I was going to have to start hanging out with It more. Seriously.

  Princess stared at It, the blood draining from his face - slowly replaced by cold fury.

  “The master is not in,” he spoke through thin lips.

  Of all the responses, I did not expect It to give a sigh.

  It gave a short, disappointed dad sigh.

  “Look, I understand. I am sorry you were unfortunate enough to be born as an elf. My condolences go out to you,” It continued, a look for compassion on his face. “But you are simply unqualified to prevent me from speaking to your master.” He finished with a dramatic shrug.

  The Vaarg impersonation was spot on.

  “Now be a good butler—and go fetch your master,” he finished, sounding bored.

  The butler and I both stared at him.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I smirked.

  I was definitely spending more time with this guy.

  Princess Butler looked utterly flabbergasted.

  “Wait. Here.” He clipped and closed the door.

  The silence stretched for a moment.

  “Who do you think won?” It eventually spoke up - sounding utterly disinterested.

  “…What?” I asked.

  “The dragon or the unicorn? Who won?” It repeated, pointing to the door.

  “Oh...uh.”

  I looked at the door more closely.

  It really was beautiful.

  The dragon wrapped around both sides regally, the soft pulsing of planets setting an idyllic background.

  The unicorn stood in the middle, head raised.

  On closer inspection, it was obviously losing.

  A faint crack in its horn, a furrow on its flank.

  “The Dragon,” I muttered, still engrossed in the mural.

  It stared at the door a moment longer.

  “I think the unicorn won,” he eventually responded. “The moment the grand Dragon stooped its head to fight with the unicorn, it had already lost.”

  It continued studying the door.

  “Never start a fight, Beeg,” he said, tracing a finger along the door.

  “But never leave one unfinished.”

  His palm pulsed—soft light crackling under skin, spiraling out across the door.

  With a soft click, the door swung inward once more.

  ———

  It proceeded to step calmly through the doorway, glancing back and raising an eyebrow to ensure I followed.

  The foyer was…something else.

  Frosted glass spires lit from within, floating tapestries and gilded flooring.

  The lavishness was appalling.

  It ignored it all, shambling up to the nearest bench and making himself comfortable.

  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to copy him.

  If I was supposed to be confident or small.

  I chose to sit tall - and hoped I looked like I belonged.

  It nodded and leaned back closing his eyes.

  Something about him seems off, I thought.

  As if reading my thoughts, he reached up and tapped his name tag.

  His words from earlier came back to me.

  “You work for Vaarg now, Beeg.”

  Ah, I realized.

  It wasn’t arrogance or posturing.

  By disrespecting us, the butler—and therefore the Lord of the House—had disrespected Vaarg.

  Now it made so much more sense.

  It also meant that this was the first time I would be seen outside the Store.

  The first time I would be representing Vaarg.

  I gulped.

  How much of this was a show of trust, and how much of it was a test?

  I didn’t know what kind of world waited behind that next door - nor what kind of man they expected to meet.

  So I built him.

  I schooled my expression into perfect indifference.

  An indifference that would not crack.

  The way the World would see Beeg from this point on.

  My Mask.