This short story is an entry into the Free Kingdom Lore Contest. The contest is sponsored by Jon Warren. The judges will be three monarch candidates from the Free Kingdom competition: NiHZ, Seele, and Jon Warren. An official list of the lore contest entries will be frequently updated on the Lore Contest thread  

The Servants

  “The servants will take care of it, my lord” the seneschal whispered. “It will be as you have asked.”  The duke nodded weakly, patting his friend on the shoulder with a hand frail from illness. The retainers in the room shuffled about, and looked away, as a pall of sadness settled in the room.  A kind and gentle man was fading from the world, and his loss would be felt by many.  A few short hours later, the seneschal scurried out into the streets, worry clearly etched upon his face.  

  The former seneschal trudged slowly through the town, failure and disappointment heavy on his heart, showing on his face. In the few short years since his old friends passing, everything had changed. The citizens, once amongst the happiest populace, were now cowering like whipped animals. Bodies hung on gibbets, in the center of a once beautiful park, left to rot. Children ran hungry in the streets, chasing stray animals and vermin, in hopes of a meal. The guards, once known for fairness and honesty, beat and stole from those they were to protect. Worst of all, this was only the capital city, the entire duchy was suffering.  The old duke would be pained to see his families work in such a state.    

  “You should have seen the look on the Alderman’s face, when M’Lord ordered him beaten for objecting to such a fine marriage!” the Captain of the Guard laughed uproariously, slapping one of the Duke’s sycophants on the shoulder. Another guardsman feigned pain and shock, while a third mimed beating him. Aetherwine, an expensive mix of alchemy and berry wine, splashed all over the carpet as the man flailed away. All of the men involved froze with a bit of fear.
“The servants will take care of it,” The duke said, disdain in his voice.  An almost thoughtful expression crossed his face. “I just realized, my father used to say that all the time. He was so soft on those people, I don’t understand why he called them servants. It was pathetic. Anyone who is low enough to be called a servant does not deserve kindness. My father was so pathetic.” The assembled toadies nodded mutely, embarrassed. Finally, one of the men said “Lord, tell us of the fine lass you have chosen to wed!”
The Duke grinned, which was not a wholesome sight. “Ah, she is just a maid, with a fair turn of leg! Her father tried to keep her hid, but I noticed her about their town well when I rode through unannounced. I rousted the lads, and we went back and turned out the townsfolk, until I found her.” He chuckled, and said “tomorrow, I look forward to nightfall, and bedding my bride-to-be. She seems resistant now, but she will learn that being the duchess is an honor, and she should be thankful I am raising her peasant stock!” With another dark laugh, he tossed his winecup across the room. “Boys, I shall retire, my last night a bachelor! I must find a serving girl to warm me!” With that, he staggered a bit as he headed towards his room.

The maid, standing quietly hidden in the serving alcove, looked in dismay at the mess on the carpet.  She was certain the stain would not come out, and she would receive a beating for it. The last had pained her so badly she had needed to beg herbs from the crone, in order to fulfill her duties.
  The former seneschal, demoted to the lowest of drudges, slipped into the room. “M’lord’ he groveled, “I have a gift for you, which your father had prepared before his death. Only to be given to you on the eve of your marriage.” He slid a beautifully engraved and gilded scroll case from the arm of his threadbare robe, and laid it on the table before the duke, then turned and shuffled from the room. The duke stared sullenly at the back of his father’s dearest friend. Reaching to grasp the case, he contemplated throwing it in the fire. He decided to amuse himself at his fathers expense.
  My son,  

I have failed you, and in doing so, failed our people. Our people are in the unfit hands of a bully, unsuited to rule There were two scrolls you could be given this night. The other contained warm wishes for a happy marriage, my hopes and dreams for our family going forward, and a completed contract that would have bestowed a small sum of wealth upon you and your bride. That will now go to your successor. This particular scroll I wrote with a heavy heart, and by now you may be prepared to cast it away in anger. You cannot. When you unfurled the scroll, your fingers were coated in an alchemical agent. You will be found in this very position quite soon. You may as well read on, and hopefully, at the last, gain understanding. 
For most of our time together, I attempted to teach you the right way to treat your subjects. I explained that our family had risen this high because of the love of our people. After the Mad King died, our world was awash in hate and fear, but our forefathers brought together and protected the people. Because of those people we were restored to our titles. Those that supported us most heartily called themselves “The Servants.”       The Servants worked behind the scenes to get our family recognized by members of the new nobility as fair and righteous, kind and loyal.  They also took steps against a rival family, one that was known for using the chaos after the war to commit heinous acts and get away without consequence. Several times through the history of our family, The Servants came to our aid, or helped guide us through turmoil. When you were still a babe, I was asked to join their ranks, as I understood that to be a good liege, one must be a servant to the people. Despite my best efforts, you completely failed to grasp my methods for ruling the duchy. When your mother passed, you became hateful and hurtful. You lack all of the qualities that I require in an heir. I am certain that, by the time you have read this far, you are no longer alone. I am also certain that you have yet to truly realize your peril. It would be unseemly for the duke to be murdered by his already deceased father, it would bring further turmoil to our realm.

But do not despair,

The Servants will take care of it.