Chapter 5: New Outfit, New Me

  The next morning, I took the King's advice by taking a bath. If it was that obvious that I didn't get many baths, then there was no way I was going to start out my new life smelling like a monkey. I scrubbed myself so clean that my skin shone in the light, and only then was I satisfied with my state of cleanliness. I dried myself off with a thick towel and changed into my best outfit. When I opened the door to my room, a servant was waiting for me with a gigantic silver platter, covered in a domed lid.

  "Good morning, sir," the servant said. "My name is Hodge, and I will be your personal servant for the duration of your stay. If you ever need anything, no matter how small and insignificant, just ask me. You slept through breakfast, so His Royal Highness instructed me to bring some food up to you. May I enter your room?"

  "Yeah, of course." I moved to the side so he could come in. The silver platter he was carrying almost scraped the sides of the doorway, but he managed to make it through. Hodge set the platter on my desk - or what I took to be my desk, even though it was two times the size of my desk back home - and whisked off the lid of the platter. The tantalizing smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes wafted through the air, and I found myself drooling with hunger. My stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meal, and I was glad that nobles and royalty ate the same things as farmers, albeit in much fancier dishes. I doubt I would've made it long without eggs and bacon.

  I sat down at my desk to eat but paused when I realized that there was more than one fork. I hesitated to look like an uneducated noble, but I had to learn how to use silverware at some point. "Uh, Hodge," I said, "What fork do I use?" I winced in anticipation of the servant's condescension, but he acted as if it was totally normal for him to teach fifteen-year-olds how to use their silverware. He patiently told me what each fork was for, though I doubted I'd remember for longer than fifteen minutes, and showed me how to hold my silverware like a graceful noble would.

  By the end of my cutlery lesson, I had come to the conclusion that Hodge would make a good personal servant. He didn't seem to get exasperated quickly, and he didn't mind teaching me even the simplest of concepts. I was glad that he had been the one assigned to me. Especially since I would likely be asking a lot of questions.

  The eggs and bacon and pancakes were some of the best I'd ever eaten, but they didn't quite top home-raised eggs, local bacon, and Mother's pancakes. When I was done with my meal, Hodge put the lid back on. "Now it's time for a tour, and then you'll have your fitting later today," he said, straightening his servant's vest in a dignified manner. "I've worked at this Manor for fifteen years, so if you have a question about anything, just ask me."

  I was a little surprised at that - Hodge didn't seem old enough to work anywhere for fifteen years unless he had worked here since he was my age. "Alright," I said, "Let's get this tour going."

  The tour of the Manor took several hours. As far as I could tell, we went through every single closet, laundry room, and bathroom that the massive building had to offer. Whenever we passed servants in the halls, they'd put their heads close together and whisper about the new Elemental the King had brought back. They weren't that good at whispering, though, so I heard most of what they said, and it was mostly just the standard inquiries of curiosity. "How old is he?", "Where is he from?", "What are his talents?", and things like that. Though just whispering the questions to each other wouldn't get them answered. I briefly considered offering the answers to their questions, but the part of me that had been trained to lay low rejected that idea.

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  Finally, the tour was over. Hodge had been explaining the history and significance of the Manor, but I hadn't been listening... at all. On our way back to my room, where the tailors were waiting to fit the wardrobe that they had made for me, we passed two teenagers in the hallway. One was a muscular-looking boy, and the other was a slip of a girl. The girl had long, wispy blonde hair that floated around her and reminded me of Cassidy. A small hope filled my heart and I turned to get a better look at her, but then the muscular boy said something to her, and she had to stifle a giggle. My hope shattered. I suspected that she was laughing at me, and I didn't want to be friends with people who made jokes at other people's expense.

  I tried to ignore the two teens and pushed open the door to my room. Someone had taken away the silver platter that had held my breakfast, and the training area had been set up with a round stool, a portable clothing rack, a full-length mirror, and a table loaded with scissors, measuring tape, pins, and all sorts of other tools. Two tailors were waiting for me, each with heavy robes and thick glasses. They were so similar that I took them for father and son. The younger tailor was holding a notebook and pencil, while the older tailor had a shirt draped over one arm.

  "Good afternoon, Master Firth," the older tailor said. "The King has commissioned us to create your new wardrobe. We have several outfits for you to try on, and then we'll make any necessary changes, and you'll end up with the clothes you need for training and formal occasions. If you'll just step onto this stool, then we can begin."

  My stomach felt a little icky at the thought of "formal occasions." Were they expecting me to go to balls or something? I pushed the thought aside and got on the stool as instructed. The two tailors got right to work. The older one had me try on a shirt and told the younger tailor what numbers to write down. Then the older tailor, the master tailor, it seemed, stuck pins into the shirt and drew lines with faint white chalk. I got pricked with the pins several times, but I just bit my lip and held in the pain. The shirt was red anyway, so if I bled at all, it would blend in easily. I let out a sigh of relief when the first shirt was finished, but then the master tailor took one of the shirts off of the clothing rack, and dismay swept through me.

  "Do you have to do all of the clothes on that rack?" I asked, extremely worried.

  "No, only most of them. Now that I have a good idea of your dimensions, I can automatically rule out those that we made too small." The tailor held up the next shirt. "Only ten more to go!"

  An hour later, I had tried on all of the shirts, pants, vests, capes, cloaks, socks, and gloves that they had made for me, and I was completely exhausted. They let me lay in my bed while they speed-stitched my new outfits, letting out a little here, tucking in a little there, but they must've been the fastest tailors in the world, and I didn't get much rest. They gave me a stack of clothes to change into, then left so I could have some privacy to change. I took longer than necessary, just so I could have some precious time to myself.

  When I was done changing, the tailors came back in and helped to straighten my outfit. Apparently, I wasn't the best at dressing myself. They pulled over the full-length mirror, and I got my first good look at my new outfit.

  "Wow," I said, my voice quiet. "This is... super cool." The first thing I noticed was the color scheme. The dull reds, dark reds, and deep browns just mixed so perfectly, especially when combined with my black hair and dark blue eyes. Then the clothes themselves were absolutely spectacular, with a slim shirt and pants built for training and running. Plus, there were two leather straps, one over each shoulder, that formed an X over my chest and were perfect for carrying small daggers or other weapons. My new outfit was the absolute best thing ever to be made.

  The master tailor chuckled. "Just wait until you see the other ones."

  My brain was basically melting at the thought that I would get even more cool outfits just like the one I was wearing. Then I looked in the mirror again. I didn't see the scared little boy that had left his home just yesterday. Instead, I saw a boy who knew how to handle himself, a boy who had a fire burning in his soul. I gave the mirror a satisfied smile. Maybe I did really fit in at the Manor. Maybe I was the Fire Elemental after all.