The Prince and His Servant

Chapter 47

[A/N] So guys... I'm leaving for my grandmother's tomorrow, and I'll be there all week, so this is the only time I have to update before then. Though I want to somewhat dedicate this chapter to Grell_Deh_Neko. I won't say why, but as long as they know, it's alright. Regardless, I think you all will enjoy this chapter. :)

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Her words were still on my mind as I randomly meandered around the manor's many halls.

It was she who took care of me in my childhood, after my mother passed... It was she who housed me, showed me kindness, and provided for me... And it was her who showed me the same hospitality in the time in which I showed my true cowardice... I truly didn't deserve such. But I was dumbfounded by not only the fact that such was true, but also by the fact that I could never have made the connection. She reminded me of my caretaker, and yet I never considered the possibility that, maybe, that was her identity all along.

Before I could have thought much more on the subject, I found myself in the prince's study, where everything began. Where I spend a good amount of my daily time, but was now the place where I was haunted by memories of what I had done. I slowly walked around the rather spacious room, recalling the events as I passed by certain things. Even the tea cart was still there... It surprised me to some degree that the room had been left untouched.

At last, I found myself standing before his desk, which, atop it, lay what truly started everything.

I picked up the prince's oak violin, the one he claimed could wash all of his worries, sadness, and anger away with the faintest of sounds. I held it as if it were a delicate object that could shatter if I so much as rubbed it the wrong way. Why he held it so dear to him, as it were merely an object, I didn't understand. Couldn't understand. But he always told me that it was the memories it held, and the memories that it could summon with a few notes, played in just the right way at just the right time.

What memories were connected to this instrument that I couldn't understand? Obviously it was of his childhood. No, rather, our childhood. The ones where he would play songs for me, and I would love them, because the melodies were the nicest and most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. And the one I loved the most was one he learned from his late father, the man who ruled over all of Germany... who, somehow, still had possessed a soft spot for playing and entertaining, amidst all that went wrong.

World War II was a time that almost seemed far off. Possibly because I hadn't been born when the dark age started, and was only a small child when it ended. All I knew was that he had already passed when I came to live in the manor, and that after his death, he left the country in good hands for his son's eventual rule.

I'd almost forgotten the fact that it was here that I took my residence. It had been two months since I'd seen this place, and even before then, the times I actually went to my bedroom were few and far between, what with the work I was always busying myself with. Catering to the prince and paperwork were all that I seemed to do in the manor, but I could never bring myself to complain. Even with all of the sleepless nights and endless piles of paperwork, I could never complain.

After all, not only was I given a job, a place to call home, and a name for myself, I was given the opportunity to serve the one person I loved most.

Was it twisted, to enjoy being at someone's whim? To have to comply with their every command, be it night or day, summer or winter, and be capable of doing it with pleasure? The world was not a place in which people did not revel in being someone's slave. And, as some would say, being a servant was the same as being a glorified slave, nothing more than a laborer. But never once did I see it that way. The way I looked at it, I was making someone happy. I didn't care that my rank was high, and I didn't care that the one I served was the most important person in the country.

I was glad that the one I served was Eren Jaeger. Not Eren Jaeger, the prince of Germany, but Eren Jaeger, the man.

None of the niceties that I've been provided could ever compare to him. He was strong, yet kind. He was brave, he was courageous, yet he was also lax. His position demanded respect, but never once did the command leave his ever-smiling lips. Not once has he ever been afraid of what was to come in his work. If there was a problem, he worked hard to fix it.

Someone like myself could never compare to someone like him. I was coldhearted, shut off to the world, mostly uncaring of other's misfortune, and I'm unaccustomed to doing something as simple as smiling. He was, always has been, and always will be the exact opposite. Oftentimes, when other people of upper status visit him for whatever reason, they never pay any mind to my presence. Now, most would assume it was due to my status, as a servant. But I was always certain that it was because people were frightened to approach me.

It was depressing, in all honesty. Nobody else in the manor was like me in attitude and personality. I sometimes wondered why I still had my job, what with how I treated people on a regular basis. It was... less than pleasant, to say the least. Whether it be dirty looks, disrespect, or whatever else it may have been, I was never a nice person. And yet, I managed to stay in my position. What was keeping me there? What prevented me from being back on the streets, in the neighboring village, or wherever else they put me?

'Ah, there's no use in wondering about it without taking action. I'll bring it up with the secretary later if I must.'

I pulled myself from my thoughts and set the violin back in its leather case, then fastened it shut. I didn't hesitate in leaving the room after that. I was painfully aware of the fact that it collected a lot more dust than I would have liked, but I was in no position to clean it at the time. Normally, however, I'd have spend all day making sure the place was in tip-top shape for the prince, and to ease my urge for cleanliness. Now wasn't one of those times.

Once I was back out in the hallway, I decided I had nothing better to do than to return to the infirmary, where Eren lay unconscious. There wasn't much to do there except wish that he was awake, but it still comforted me to be there, somehow.

When I arrived there, however...

...well...

My wish had come true.