The Strings in the Shadows

Chapter Five- In which the search for Jack occurs

"LET ME GO, WRENCH!" Yelled Gretta, raising her other hand to hit Kaira. Luke materialized as quickly as his sister, grabbing Gretta's other hand.

"Madam, you will address this 'wrench' as Lady Wellington," said Lord Luke's expressionless voice as he and Lady Kaira effortlessly held onto the angry woman.

"Oh, yeah," sneered Gretta, trying and not succeeding to break free,"And I bet you're Prince Edward, you blithering servant boy. UNHAND ME!"

"Actually, I'M Crown Prince Edward, madam. The two you are so rudely addressing," stated Prince Edward in a voice any King Jack could imagine would sound like,"are in fact Lord Lucious Wellington and his sister, Lady Kaira Wellington. And I would stop insulting my esteemed Shadows before one decides to shut you up. Forever."

Gretta Hasline seemed to understand the peril she was in as all the blood drained from her face. "L-lord Prince, forgive me, I did not recognize you-"

"Furthermore," Prince Edward continued,"the only one who needs to face reality is you, Head Cook Gretta Hasline. You have insulted royalty and their kin."

"You have threatened to struck said royalty," said Lord Luke.

"You have starved, imprisoned, beaten, verbally and physically abused and maliciously treated your only son,"said Lady Kaira in a voice that got angrier with every slyllable.

"Jack is not the one who needs to be punished. You are," delivered Prince Edward.

"No!" Screamed Gretta in a breathy voice as her knees gave out, and if Lady Kaira and Lord Luke hadn't been holding her up, she would have collapsed to the floor. Jack watched the percedings with wide eyes of a mixture of fear and awe.

"Therefore," proclaimed Prince Edward,"You no longer live in Castle Riokin. Your post as Head Cook has been relieved. You are now a jobless, homeless woman that will, from now on, never see or contact your son again."

"We are, however, not heartless judges. On your way out the door you will be given fifty silver, enough for you to start your life over, far from this Castle," Prince Edward finished as Gretta started crying.

"Please, Magesty," the small woman begged, and her captors let her fall to her knees. "Have mercy!"

"We are bestowing mercy. More so, in fact, than can be said of you and how you address your son. Now, leave this castle! If you are not gone in twenty minutes-" But Gretta had already fled.

The scary chill down Jack's spine evaporated as Kaira checked his pulse at his neck. Her fingers felt warm, and she smelled like outside.

"Hmm, racing but slowing down," she remarked. "I'm glad that disagreeable woman didn't do any more harm than she already had. I can't believe she was starving you!"

"It wasn't the worse thing I've ever gone through," said Jack matter-of-factly as he shook of the last of the cold. It was like the noble's had turned into dragons fir a moment, then reverted back into their warmer selves. At that moment, Grange came back to the room with a platter of muffins and a pot of coffee and four mugs. Kaira poured and handed the coffee out to Edward, who looked drained from all his regal-ness, and Luke, who still looked like he wanted to punch something.

"Here, eat something and get better soon," Kaira said, handing him a muffin. With those words, Jack fell back into reality, a place he dreaded to be.

"Of course, Lady Kaira, I would hate to impose on you or your family's hospitality," he said mournfully.He felt awful, and it wasn't just from waking up from a coma. He had liked the pace of these crazy nobles. And now he'd go back to the kitchens to a life of getting yelled at. "I'll be good enough to go back and work in the kitchens soon."

Luke looked up from a whispered conversation with Edward. "Oh, no, Jack, you'll never go back to the kitchens." He said seriously.

Jack was confused. "Huh? Why not, Lord Wellington?"

Luke leaned in really close to Jack so the kitchen boy could hear the noble's whispered words. "Because we are going to steal your soul!" Jack's eyes widened. "Kidding! Loosen up, Jack! You're going to be my manservant. I don't technically have a servant to follow me around and do things, Grange is more of a butler, and you don't have a life to go back to! No offense, but you don't. So: You, servant, for me, who's bored and needs a servant to run around with bandages and little mints for when my breathe scares away the eligible ladies!"

Kaira looked as surprised as Jack felt. "And when did you decide this?" She asked.

"Just now." Luke said, smiling crookedly at her.

"Can he do that?" She asked the prince, who just shrugged and grinned as if to say, 'Does it look like we can stop him'.

Jack couldn't wait to get started, and struggled to get out of bed. This time he made it, and shakely stood in front of Luke. Jack bowed, unbalanced, saying, "Thank you, my Lord Wellington. I shall strive to serve you in everyway possible."

"My first order as your master, Jack, is to stop being so official!" Luke reached out and grabbed Jack's shoulder, steadying him. "We're bonded for life now, you and I. Call me Luke outside of official buisness."

Jack looked around to see Kaira rolling her eyes at her brother's theatrics. Edward, who was just coming up for air after downing a mug of coffee was pouring his second cup, saying, "For the record, our titles are so long anyway that if our servants were to use them we'd never get to what they actually wanted to talk to us about in the first place."

"It just saves time, informality. Formality's all about respect, which any good servant-master has both ways," Kaira put in. "Although most of our servants fear us rather than respect us, so we've rather given up trying to get them to call us by our first names," she added as an afterthought. Jack remembered the cold feeling when the nobles had dealt with his mother. He hadn't been able to even think of them on a first-name basis. If all the servants felt that all the time, no wonder they used the noble's titles.

"And Luke, if you don't let Jack lie back down he'll probably pass out again."

Jack fell into a natural sleep a few minutes later after eating three muffins, listening to the soft sound of the three odd nobles that seemed to have befriended him talking and was smiling at the thought of his new life.

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Holy Hera that was hard to write. And I don't even know why! It's only chapter five and my brain was like, "i've got the middle and end figured out! Now write a begginning that would make sense and would flow in the direction you want it to!" At least the story's moving a long now. And AGAIN WITH NO TITLE. CURSE YOU WATTPAD.

Peace out, Demigods!