servant order you new clothes. Initiates’ robes are no longer suitable for you. Although you cannot yet wear apprentices’ robes, you will need a new set of clothes in neutral colors. My apprentice cannot look shabby.”
Eridan flushed, feeling a little humiliated. Although he took great care of his clothes, there was no hiding the fact that they were hand-me-downs from numerous other initiates that had worn them before him.
“All right, Master,” he said, swallowing his pride. It was difficult. His pride had always been one of his greatest flaws. Eridan didn’t even know why he was so proud. Sometimes he thought that his birth family might have been noble, though he hadn’t been able to confirm it. The information on the birth families of the initiates usually wasn’t included in their records, and Eridan only knew he had been a three-year-old when he was brought to Hronthar. He remembered next to nothing from his life before the Order and what little he could remember he didn’t trust, because it made little sense.
When the silence stretched and Idhron was still standing there, looking at him expectantly, Eridan scowled, realizing what the man was waiting for.
“You’re not officially my Master yet,” he grumbled, pouting.
The look Idhron gave him was uncompromising. “I will not demand it every time we part, but you must get used to doing it while we are in public. I do not tolerate disrespect, and it would be taken as a sign of disrespect by others if you do not behave like a good apprentice should.”
Sighing, Eridan took the few steps that separated them, dropped to his knees, and bowed his head. “Master. May you have safe travels.”
He didn’t lift his eyes, waiting for Idhron’s reaction. The High Hronthar’s etiquette was—unnecessarily, in Eridan’s opinion—complicated. Some Masters were more lenient, but Masters from old, traditional lineages like Idhron usually followed the old customs. There were a number of ways the Master could respond to a traditional farewell, depending on the Master-apprentice relationship and how much the Master valued their apprentice.
He cringed a little on the inside, expecting that Idhron might make him kiss the hem of his black robe, or worse, his boots—customs that were considered outdated and unnecessarily demeaning by modern High Hronthar’s standards, but still largely acceptable, especially if the Master and the apprentice didn’t have the best relationship.
But to his relief, Idhron offered him his ring.
Eridan brushed his lips against the black gemstone and looked up.
Blue eyes were watching him with an unreadable, fixed expression.
Something clenched in Eridan’s stomach.
“Thank you, Eridan,” his Master said.
As Idhron retrieved his hand, the tips of his fingers brushed against Eridan’s chin, and Eridan shivered as his telepathic presence surged forward, trying to draw his Master in, the bond between them pulsing with need.
Idhron’s lips thinned slightly. “You will work on your shields while I am gone,” he said before striding out of the house.
Eridan didn’t know how long he stayed there, on his knees, looking blankly at the spot where his Master had just been.
Shields. Right.
Chapter Four: Tests
Master Idhron’s servant was a young man called Javier. He was just five years older than Eridan and was a pleasant, no-nonsense kind of person.
“How long have you been serving him?” Eridan asked curiously as he and Javier ordered new clothes online.
“Just a few months,” Javier said, brushing his hair back.
He was a good-looking guy, Eridan thought. They looked a little alike, actually. Javier’s hair was darker, and his face was a little rounder, but their features and builds were similar enough for them to be mistaken for relatives.
“What is it like?” Eridan said, curious despite himself. Everyone always said how terrible it was not to be claimed by a Master and become a member of the servicing department of the Order, but Eridan had never actually spoken to a servant. There were no servants in the Outer District. All he knew about servants was that they could specialize in a vast variety of fields, some more important than others.
Javier shrugged. “It’s all right. Master Idhron is a decent enough employer. He’s demanding, but I’ve had worse.”
“What do you mean?”
Javier made a face. “My previous employer wanted me to perform services I don’t specialize in, services I didn’t want to perform, and I had to file a complaint.”
Eridan cringed. “You mean they wanted you to service them sexually?”
Javier laughed. “That wasn’t the issue—I am a pleasure servant first, after all. The problem was, she wanted me to perform acts I didn’t agree with in