POV: Nicolas, Servant of House Nemetz
I think our young master is depressed.
Presumptuous, I know. Out of anyone here, I alone have the least grounds to voice my opinions on the mental state of our young master. After all, I've only been working here for… how long has it been…
…
Ah, yes, three months. For many, that's hardly enough time to make a judgement so severe, especially if the person making it isn't a doctor.
Still, I've been called a "serial gut follower", though I'd classify myself more of a "genius of instinct". Personally, I believe this is another instance where my gut…
"..."
My thoughts slowed to a crawl as I looked at the figure sitting on the windowsill. He was, for his age, a tall boy. Lanky, and tall. Honestly I think he grew a couple centimeters last night.
Like his mother, he sported nearly midnight black hair with hints of purple when the light hit it right. His features this time were more of a mixture of both of his parents. Of the little I've seen of the grand duchess and grand duke of the north, he takes a lot of prominent features from his mother (who descends from the east), while his more baseline structure takes from his father, a born and bred northerner. Slightly slanted eyes, long eyelashes, and piercing lavender eyes.
Lucky kid, at least on the looks front.
Yet, whenever I see him, this time no exception, everything about him screams to me that this kid is not right in the head. When I signed up to work as a servant of the literal Grand Duke of the North (on a whim, mind you), I fully expected the youngest child to be a hellion born with arrogance in his right hand and entitlement in his left.
Yet this kid acted more like a bloody priest.
He woke up at the crack of dawn, made his own bed, folded his own clothes… hell, one time I saw him pick up a piece of trash another servant unknowingly dropped.
A seven year old son of THE Grand Duke.
His weird habits obviously aren't my only basis for the amateur diagnosis.
The most glaring issue is the fact that, not once, have I ever seen the kid make any real facial expressions.
Older brother just came back from a grueling excursion clearing the snowy peaks of monsters? "Good evening, brother," he'd say, not even blinking. His mother just praised him for acing tutoring lessons way above what he ever should have understood? "I thank you for your complement, Mother."
That alone made me suspicious. Was he incapable of feeling? Maybe, but that could mean any number of things. Psychopath, sociopath, antisocial…
What convinced me of depression was situations like this.
With a look in his eyes far too… deep… for someone his age, he looked at the setting sun almost like he wanted it to take him with it. Its golden rays reflected off the blanket of snow covering the estate were almost blinding, but he didn't seem to mind as he let it do so, at least that's what it looked like to me.
Around now he would usually-
"Sigh~"
Which would immediately be followed by him picking at his lips.
I could go on and on about how the kid seemed to get no sleep at all (his eyes drooped like they were made of pure lead) or how he barely left the estate grounds, but it would be useless.
Maybe… maybe I should tell someone? It's not like I lack people to talk to. The other servants love gossip, especially if it has to do with our employers or their guests.
But… what am I to do?
I'm in no position to voice my opinions on the mental state of our young master.
.
.
.
POV: Augustine Johan Nemetz, Youngest Son of House Nemetz
"Now Johan," Mother said, "remember, the Princess is visiting today. Be nice to her, okay?"
I nodded, simply responding, "Yes mother."
Though my eyes were facing the ground, I could imagine her facial expression clearly. Worried. Not at whether or not I would follow her wishes, far from it. She was worried about something else… though I can't wrap my head around what.
Same as how I can't wrap my head around my existence here.
Seven years, three months, and twenty nine days ago I gained consciousness in this body. The strange thing is, the moment I did, I recalled memories of the life I led before this one.
It wasn't much, to be honest. I was an orphan by decision, I read a lot, and I died before I reached puberty. Nothing special, at least in my opinion. The world I was used to, however, was far different from this one. Instead of the superhuman knights or mystical mages that inhabit this world, my "original" one was more grounded, at least from my perspective.
Our technology was advanced, yes, but we had no seemingly inexplicable force to power Newton's law-breaking feats or to support reality warping spells, simply human ingenuity and a whole lot of luck.
Stranger still was the fact that I recognized the body I now inhabit. Offhandedly, when I was still interested in reading fantasy books at the local library instead of "sneaking" into college libraries (though sneaking in this case simply meant walking in with no problem) to read more advanced stuff, I read a surprisingly high quality novel, simply called "Long Ago".
It intrigued me that a book so incredibly long and dense had no mention of who authored it. If it were me, I'd want my name plastered over every inch of it, but to each their own.
I read the whole thing through in a few sessions, and that was that. Just another one into the pile.
Who would have thought that after succumbing to a very preventable disease that I would somehow awaken, as an infant, in the body of one of the central characters of the story.
Augustine Johan Nemetz.
In the original narrative, Johan (as he/I is/am normally referred to) is an antagonist. He obsessed over winning the attention of one of the main female leads, Princess Annelei Claire Marie-Pierre Doisneau, who had originally been betrothed to him, before falling into a jealousy and madness infused death spiral with the main character, Will Turner.
Of course, the jealousy was due to the fact that the Princess eventually falls in love with Mr. Turner.
The story itself was a combination of Action, Drama, and, of course, Romance. The overall cast of characters was enormous, and the intricacies of the relationships goes far beyond just the three I've already mentioned.
For one, the Princess doesn't even end up with Mr. Turner. No, he ends up with some other lady while she ends up dead as a doornail, having sacrificed herself and her love for her country.
I shook my head and sighed. Thinking about such tragedies only worsened my mood.
Looking at a nearby clock, It seemed that Mother was not lying in the slightest that the princess would arrive soon. Provided nothing went wrong, she should be arriving before the sun fully descended past the breathtaking mountains of the North.
As of now, attempting to act as Johan did in the original story was, quite frankly, not bloody happening. Just the thought of badgering servants over the slightest mistakes or hounding the poor princess 'till her ears bled made me want to crawl into bed and sink through the mattress.
Though… I kind of want to do that anyways… maybe later.
I glanced towards Mother, more specifically, Duchess Mai Adachi Nemetz. The way she held herself, spoke, ate, basically everything she did was befitting of a Duchess, but she was never cold (figuratively). It was honestly a mystery how Johan ended up how he did in the novel, but I guess the author just really needed an antagonist, and he was the unlucky individual the author created to fit that need.
Twitch
My ears reacted to the muffled noise of calm commotion and movement outside the main doors to the central manor Mother and I were standing behind. Looking at each other, we silently understood what it meant.
The Princess had arrived.
With uncanny strength for a woman her size, she easily pushed open the comically large doors, revealing the snowtouched welcoming grounds. Outside, a large reception of servants dressed in warm attire formed a picture perfect funnel of sorts, coming to a point just where the Princess' carriage stopped.
The closest one to the door of said carriage cleared his throat, "Announcing the arrival of her royal highness, Princess Annelei Claire Marie-Pierre Doisneau!"
I nodded in approval. To say such a long name with such gravitas in the numbing cold of the north was quite impressive. That servant must have practiced it quite a bit– even I have had trouble saying it myself. Keyword: Had.
No way I would ever meet a Princess and not know how to say her name properly.
Mother and I skillfully maneuvered down the slightly icy stone steps from the front door without missing a beat. While it was difficult in the beginning (to be fair, everything is difficult as an infant), I've managed to become proficient at navigating icy conditions, just as she had.
We approached the carriage and knelt down in the light snow. Thankfully, the princess had come in the beginning of the "warm" season, thus the servants didn't have to continually shovel snow to make all of this possible.
The hinges on the carriage creaked a bit as the coach opened the door, revealing an interior as opulent as the exterior. From within, a towering figure clad in a pale golden suit of armor emerged.
Emma Morin, Marchioness and the personal knight of Princess Annelei stepped down into the snow, scrunching her nose up a bit. Never in either of my short lives had I seen a woman that tall or imposing.
The book certainly doesn't do her justice in that department.
Even still, she was certainly a beautiful woman. Was everyone here blessed in that department?
Tap~ tap~ tap~
…clearly, some blessings are a bit more potent than others.
Despite only being 7, the Princess was a very beautiful girl, exactly as described in the book.
She had almost peach-colored, silky smooth hair that fell just past her shoulders. Gleaming green eyes that touched on perfectly polished emeralds in terms of beauty and clarity. Silky smooth porcelain skin that shone like the setting sun behind her.
Her cheeks were rosy due to the cold, and she was slightly shivering, but her training as an imperial princess showed. I suppressed a nod of approval at her commendable resistance to the biting cold of the north.
Mother and I stood up.
"Duchess Nemetz, we are honored at such a reception," Emma Morin said, bowing her head low.
"Of course, Marchioness Morin" mother said, smiling her signature warm smile. "Our house Nemetz is always prepared to welcome the imperial family, especially our beautiful Princess Annelei."
The Princess blushed slightly more than normal at the complement, but she again managed to stay composed. Mother does have a nasty habit of smothering anything she deems cute with affection, regardless of the source.
With a little curtsey of her puffy winter dress, the princess nodded, "Thank you, Duchess Nemetz."
I noticed Mother's eyebrow twitch, an indication that she just resisted the urge to pinch the Princess' cheeks then and there. I sighed.
"I think it would be wise if we all returned indoors," I suggested.
Thankfully, everyone was in agreement.