As his mother left the kitchen to attend to her post, Altair sat himself in the corner of the kitchen, the smell of smoke and variety of food filling his sensitive nose.
Now as a beastkin, it was obvious that his senses had grown sharper than that of a normal human's, and although it was sometimes inconvenient, especially if there's especially strong (bad) smells or loud noises, it was still incredibly useful and eye opening. Altair in his previous life didn't have the best eyesight, so it was like going from 360p to finally watching the world in HD, so it was greatly satisfying.
As for now, the smell of food being prepped, the trays of bread baking the oven, and the combination of crisp smoke and vintage metal was almost torture considering how pleasing it was. Although he never had to fear about starving in the streets like some commoners who had to fend for themselves, his meals were often plain in comparison to the luxuries of modern earth, so such smells were really making his appetite reintroduce itself even when he had just eaten. Still, Altair was always full of self control, so he bore no risk of impulsively stealing food because of his growing appetite.
As the many cooks of the mansion ran around in the bustling kitchen, Altair and several other children were doing the more undignified work (child labor was widely used in this era). Altair himself was peeling potatoes in bulk, baskets of them towering over him as he sat on the floor with a knife that was too large for his hand.
He had frequently cooked for his family in his previous life, but even without it, the current Altair was already experienced in chores like this in this life before his consciousness awakened. In fact, he would even say that he was more skilled now, with the entire process being done almost methodically at a speed far superior than he knew how to do before when he had cooked just for the fun of it. It was almost entirely instinctual, which made devising a plan easier on the brain, he supposed.
First things first— currently, he was a commoner, and a beastkin at that.
Although it made him strong by default and his senses were tenfold in comparison to the average human, prejudice was prevalent in this kingdom, not to mention the risk of being enslaved once leaving the protection of the Linhearth name. He was too much of a target, making plans like running away to his ancestors' motherland quite difficult and nearly improbable— so that was a no.
Leaving legally however, would be practically impossible, since his family was contractually bound to the dukedom. And, as the firstborn and currently only child, and therefore, the future family head, he was required to stay. It was a shame, since leaving the estate and becoming an adventurer, a merchant, or maybe even a humble shop owner would be very entertaining, but unfortunately it wasn't that easy.
He supposed there was an option to become a kingdom guard while still being under house Linhearth. After all, knights were only from noble families, or they had to be knighted by being officially bestowed an honor recognized by the kingdom which sounded too much of a gamble, and too much of a hassle to actually pull off. He was fine just being a backwater, insignificant palace guard— as long as one had the skills for it and were a kingdom citizen, you could become one with the correct procedures. Plus, the future king was the current male lead, supposedly a benevolent ruler in the ending.
The only problem was that currently, any one of the Black Dogs were forbidden to wield swords or any type of weapon. With all these careful restrictions on them, it was clear that the Linhearths were just in fact very afraid that their supposive loyal dogs would bite the hand that fed them— an unneeded worry, seeing how his family acted, but an understandable one.
Altair couldn't help but sigh. Really, it seemed like the world was not letting him find anything easy.
At the moment, the best course of action seemed to be letting the Linhearths make the decision themselves, through either dismissing him, or referring him to another family.
Aiming to be dismissed was much too risky and improbable, for obvious reasons. Then at the moment, being referred to a different family would be the most logical choice. Not too impossible, and not too risky.
The only downside was that before any referral would pass, he would have to endure being with the Linhearths for extended amounts of time — maybe even most of his life. He supposed that he could just avoid becoming the young Scorpius's personal attendant, and just work as one of the estate butlers, so that he could avoid most of the brutality— but that might be difficult as well, since among the butlers' children, he was the closest to the young master's age, making him one of the best candidates.
Wait a second.
His small, but adept hands skinning the potatoes paused.
What if I got the attention of the royal family?
Currently, the only family that was higher status than the Linhearths were the royal family— and if they said they wanted servants, the Linhearths would have no choice but to refer servants to the palace.
Normally, it would be difficult to get the attention of the royal family, however, the Linhearths were indirectly related to the royals, since the current head of Linhearth was the brother-in-law of the king. As cousins, Orion and Scorpius were 'childhood playmates', even though they detested one another. Making contact with the young prince would be too easy since Altair was going to be Scorpius's personal attendant.
Not only that, but if his previous memories served him right, the prince had all but two types of people: a lover, which Luna later filled the role of, and a loyal attending servant. In the manga, despite having plenty of loyal soldiers and knights by his side, Orion was often cautious even within his own private quarters because he didn't trust his attending maids or butlers.
If he could be referred to the royal palace, he could have a relatively easy going life as a servant and retire— then afterwards, he could do whatever he wanted. All he had to do at the moment was become the villain's personal attendant as planned, and become a top class butler to be noticed by the young prince and befriend him.
Altair's usually expressionless, almost indifferent face curled into a smug smirk.
It's not the best plan, but it would make do for now. There was no way in hell that I'm going to kiss up to an annoying bratty man-child like Scorpius.
"Oi, sneaky lil' brat over there! I better see those hands moving, you hear me?!"
Carefully controlling his expression once more, Altair focused on peeling the potatoes, though his mood remained almost giddy.
Once he finished the chores in the kitchen, he was ordered to move some boxes from the cart outside to the back where they kept the foodstocks.
According to his previous life's judgement, the boxes looked far too heavy for a single child like him to carry, but in this lifetime, his athleticism, both by nature and his beastkin qualities, was far superior than his previous stick of a body.
Despite his proficiency in academics and all sorts of skills, he had quite frankly sucked at anything involving sports and moving around. Because of that helpful comparison, Altair now had a newfound appreciation for his new form. It was probably comical seeing such a small, lean boy casually carry huge boxes of cargo that practically dwarfed him without breaking a sweat.
Oh the joys of being in a magical, fantasy world, he mused.
"Oi, Mutt!"
A familiar voice called behind him, and Altair looked around, but saw no dog.
Oh, Altair chuckled to himself, he's referring to me.
Certainly, the nickname of 'black dog' usually was intended to be derogatory, but of course, the Wolf family took pride in it anyway.
He adjusted his hold of his box to his other hand so that he could look behind him. Unsurprisingly, it was the gardener's boy— Tom Gardener (you could see that uncreative names were prevalent among servants in this estate), and some of the other servant boys at the estate. They were all slightly older than he was, and had spent their free time picking on young Altair in the past.
Of course, to the young and sensitive child, their taunts were indeed hurtful. But to the current Altair, it was quite amusing to see such attempts to get a reaction out of him. It reminded of the bullies in his previous life, who thought it would be funny to pick on his younger sister. Funnily enough, he didn't have to do anything since she herself intimidated them into submission. She was one wild girl.
Ah... right... he had a younger sister.
At that revelation, some foggy bits of his memories returned, though names and faces still remained a blur. He wondered... Was she doing alright? Was she eating properly? Was she able to move on from the news of his death...? After all, they had only had each other as family... he hoped she did.
I'm sorry for leaving you so early... but I hope you find happiness, even if I'm not with you anymore.
"What are you looking at?" Tom sneered, chest puffed out. "You think you're tough, ya' dirty hound?"
The rest of the children snickered and threw stones that had in their hands, shouting taunts and jeering.
"Go away mutt!"
"Monster!"
"Beast!"
Of course, their aim was completely off, so none actually hit him.
How cute, Altair thought to himself, tilling his head with a smile, they think they're tough shit.
At his strange behavior, the boys looked taken aback, their confident sneers quickly turning into confused frowns. Altair adjusted his hold on the box once more, this time using one arm and carrying it on his shoulder so that he had an empty hand. His amused smile still plastered on his face, he walked towards the boys, who instinctively backed up in response.
You would really think that trying to aggravate what you think is an untamed beast that could easily kill you would obviously be a bad idea, but well... humans can be quite stupid.
Seeming to realize that something was greatly amiss, the other boys dropped their stones and quickly fled the scene, only leaving the ringleader, Tom, whose fearful gaze was only fixed on Altair. When his back had hit a wall, Tom seemed to notice something was terribly wrong. He grabbed one of the larger stones that the other boys had dropped, and threw it hard.
Since the distance was greatly shortened than previously, the stone headed straight toward his face. His smiling face never changing, he caught the stone in his hands, bringing it to his face and examining it with mock interest.
How amusing...
Now that he was cornered without his gang of boys and conveniently placed rocks, Tom quickly lashed out in fear.
With a frightened roar, he charged at Altair, attempting to push him to the ground. Of course when his hands actually met with Altair's body, it didn't do a thing, and in fact, the recoil made Tom land backwards with his butt planted to the ground.
Altair titled his head at him, his smile widening on his face. Tom, who still remained on the ground, looked like he shat in his pants as Altair now towered over him.
Don't you absolutely love it when they realize that they are completely helpless against you? Ah, my bad— my twisted-ness was a bit too prevalent there, wasn't it?
"Ah, you should be a little more careful," Altair said to the older boy. His words would have sounded worried if not for the expression on his face that said otherwise. "You wouldn't want to get hurt now, do you?"
The boy paled, and Altair hummed to himself pleasantly. He dropped the stone in his hand and squatted down to meet his eye, using his free hand to give the trembling boy a pat on the head.
Although he'd love to continue this rather fun game, he had to get back to work before the cooks yelled at him again.
"Well, see you later, Tom," Altair said, ruffling the boy's hair once more. Standing back up, he gave the boy a wave before returning back to work.
I realize I'm having too much fun. Well, I should enjoy my second life, shouldn't I?
Chuckling to himself, Altair hummed as he carried the cargo inside.
***
"Oi, you— boy over there— bring your ass over here!" one of the cooks shouted, gesturing with his hand.
Setting down the boxes in the back, he returned to the increasingly large kitchen, where one of the cooks were waiting for him.
"Take those biscuits there and put 'em over there on the table," he instructed, "And don't you dare steal, you hear me?!"
Nodding obediently, Altair did as instructed, carrying the tray of cookies to the table to be delivered.
In his past life, he was frequently in the kitchen, often cooking for his sister, but more than cooking, he had enjoyed baking, though more than small pastries like this, it was often soft breads. He wondered how they were made.
As he set the tray down however, the cook spoke from behind the counter. "Oi!"
He turned around in time to catch something that he threw. Upon inspection, they were cookies, wrapped in a handkerchief.
"Quit staring at them would ya?" The cook grumbled, "They're leftovers. I can't have 'ya stealing, or the both of us will be in a dung-load 'a trouble. I can't have the head chef setting my ass on fire again... "
I wasn't...?
Altair stared at him, before realization hit him.
Ohhh, I see... he's a softie for kids, isn't he?
Chuckling inwardly, Altair gave a small bow to the cook, who muttered something under his breath. He helped himself to some of them.
Soon after, a maid came to collect the tray, and she called Altair over before she left the room.
"By the way, Altair, your father called for you," she said, "He's in the courtyard at the back."
"Oh, thank you," Altair responded.
He glanced at the cook, who gestured for him to leave with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Once he had arrived at the courtyard, there stood a large figure awaiting him.
"Father," Altair responded, bowing respectfully. "You called for me?"
He looked up to see the man he called father. He was tall and bulky unlike himself, and along with his sharp and angular face, his neatly trimmed beard only added to his roughness. Despite his rather brute-like appearance, he had the elegance and grace befitting of a high class butler, which was only accentuated by the uniform he wore.
"Altair," his father responded, his eyes gazing down at him in a reassuring manner. "Yes, I did. I was about to inform you that you're going to be officially starting your training."
Altair raised a brow. "If I may ask, what training?"
"It's been decided that you're going to be the young master's personal attendant," his father responded, his gaze stern yet soft. He squatted down to his eye-level, and settled his large hands on his small shoulder. "Congrats, my son. There's no higher honor than becoming the future lord's attendant, and although I am very proud, know that this comes with great responsibility. You must train hard to become the best only for our lord."
"I understand," he nodded, almost indifferently, though inwardly he sighed.
I didn't think it'd start this soon...
With a huff, his father stood up. "Good, it seems I don't have to remind you this time. Always remember that the best servants control themselves— their emotions and expressions. They are silent, and fulfill their duties with grace and efficiency."
"Yes, father," Altair nodded again, his face lowered. "When will I be able to serve the young master?"
In other words, until when will I be able to keep my freedom?
"We were discussing, and according to plan, you will start on the young master's ninth birthday, though if your training goes well enough, you might start as early as his eighth."
Though it would have been nice for him to keep his freedom for longer, for his plan to roll more smoothly, he would have to become the best servant worthy of serving the royal family— meaning he should also thrive in his training. Since he himself was three years older than the young master, that means he should aim to start when he is eleven years old— four years from now.
He repressed the urge to sigh again.
"You'll begin tomorrow, under Renald's guidance. You must follow me first thing in the morning, understood?"
"Yes, father."