The family were not the only ones that needed to digest the morning meetings. Many of the maids had been moving around the house fulfilling their duties often meant they ended up with the chance to overhear such meetings. Downstairs, Claire and Willow carried the trays into the kitchen—and, at last, had somewhere private to react. The Evergreens were expected soon, leaving the household only a brief interval to absorb what had been revealed. The two maids had stood silently at the back of the meeting, attending to the family’s needs while hearing almost everything. They crossed to the sink without speaking, then exchanged matching grins. “Did you see the way his T-shirt hugged his chest?” Claire asked, nudging Willow with her elbow.
“Shut up, you’re gonna get us in trouble.” The Willow looked around the room. Nobody was there at the moment.
“Come on, its not really a surprise. Everyone has the hots for him. the only male in the whole house. And now he’s so fucking ripped.” Claire commented. “A man from a different universe. A world were men outnumbered women, at least by a small margin.”
“Will you stop.” Willow complained, pouring two cups of coffee and handing one over.
Claire stared at her playfully. “What, are you not interested at all.” She asked conspiratorially. “What do you think Abigale and Jason got up to upstairs? Even Lady Jodie went up to take a peek.”
The door opened, cutting the conversation short. Claire and Willow turned as Alice and Mabel entered together, and the door swung shut behind them. Claire recovered first and pounced. “Alice, you missed the meeting today. It was quite spicy.”
Alice grinned back. “Maybe I missed the meeting in the lounge. Maybe I happened to be in the right kitchen at the right time.”
“Oh, care to elaborate.” Claire lit up.
“You guys are unreal, you know he’s the son of our boss, right? And you want to gossip behind his back.” Mabel argued.
“Hey, I think it’s important that all the maids understand what is going on, to better support our suffering young lord.” Claire dripped with sympathy. Not all of it real.
“Definitely from what I heard, our young lord is going to need all the help he can get.”
“Ooo, what did you hear?”
“You first,” Alice folded her arms.
“What I saw was him beat Hayley in an arm wrestle, joke with everyone and carry himself like he owned the room,” Claire said. “The rest came from the meeting: he is stronger than men here, and he comes from another universe where men outnumber women—though only by a small margin.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Alice said. “From what I overheard, he told Catherine that men pursue women in his world and are expected to take the initiative. Apparently, he even misread one of her jokes as a serious proposal involving her friends.”
“Oh, now that’s something.”
The door opened again. everyone went silent. Only it was Ivy carrying bed linin through to the utility room.
“Isn’t it a bit late in the day to be changing bed sheets.” Mabel asked. “Its not even the right day.”
Ivy turned to the group only for Claire to jump in. “Oh, are those from Jason’s room.” Claire asked, “Did you see anything?” Ivy lit up like a Christmas tree, turned and hurried off. Ivy was the youngest maid, still immature with the world.
“Claire,” Alice turned on her, “Information, now!”
“That’s the problem,” Alice said. “I only caught fragments—something about his reactions being unusually strong around women here, and about certain scents reminding him of cakes. I couldn’t tell what was medical fact, what was theory, and what everyone else had added afterwards.”
“Cakes, now that you mention it, he did note that Catherine and Jodie tasted like cakes. Spiced apple pie and Chocolate fudge cake.”
“Hahaha, that’s why Catherine was teasing him. I wonder what I smell like.” Claire wiggled her eyes at Alice. “Something sweet and innocent, or rich and indulgent. I hope the latter. Well, back to your other question, his ‘spike’ in horniness was settling in, so Catherine sent Abigale up to deal with it.”
“No way.” Alice exclaimed. All the women turned to see Ivy through the open divider shoving the linin into the washing machine. Imagining what those sheets had seen.
The doors opened suddenly, and Martha, the household’s chatelaine, stepped into the kitchen. Every maid straightened at once. Her gaze passed over the abandoned tasks, the gathered cups, and their guilty faces; the conversation had plainly begun without her. “Good. You are all here.” She moved aside to admit two more maids, then counted the assembled staff.
“Ma’am, Maid Emma is not here?” Willow asked.
Martha exhaled slowly. “Hayley has asked, on Jason’s behalf, that Emma not be told yet. I was given no further explanation, and I will not invent one. If Emma asks questions, refer her to me.”
“Was this to do with the altercation from this morning she had with Jason?” Alice asked.
“Is she getting fired?” Ivy looked panicked. her question suddenly caused panic amongst the rest of the staff members. They all knew the consequences of what that would mean.
Martha’s expression hardened. “No. Emma is not being dismissed.” She understood the fear: when Emma had described the morning’s confrontation, Martha herself had briefly wondered whether Jason meant to remove her from the household. What the family had since learned suggested something very different, but Hayley had asked on Jason’s behalf that Emma remain uninformed for the moment.
“Right, listen up Ladies. This new Jason. Some of you may have already talked amongst yourself, but I will clear up all the information myself…” Martha explained all in fascinating details. A wild Jason sent the girls into a light frenzy, causing Martha no shortage of headaches. But now was the really tough part. “I understand that you horny brats may find this development exciting, but now more than ever your professionalism will be tested. This new Jason is still your lord and will need to rely upon you for help adjusting to this world. help him quietly with household customs when necessary but do not patronise or test him. and most importantly: Just because you understand his knew behaviour does not mean you can ignore professional boundaries. Duchess Catherine has made it expressly clear to me that any chance you want with him will be earned through Her Lady’s sole discretion. Any questions?” Get faster updates on g.com.
Ivy put her hand up straight away, with permission from Martha she spoke. “So, if Emma’s not getting sacked, why are we keeping her in the dark? She’ll ask questions.” Everyone knew she was closest to Emma. And so it was understandable her concern.
Martha sighed. “I shall not presume what plans the young lord has for her that require her ignorance.”
“Plans?” Claire immediately latched onto that detail, Elbowing Alice with a smirk.
“Enough. Expecting no gossip would be foolish, but you will protect this family’s reputation. The agents did not arrive discreetly, and neither did this morning’s disturbance in the neighbourhood. Duchess Greenwood and Lady Sophia are due shortly, and they must hear what happened from Duchess Catherine—not from whispers in a corridor. Until the family says otherwise, every detail discussed here remains inside this house. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the maids answered in unison. Martha held their gaze for a moment, making certain the order had landed. “Good. Finish your coffee and return to your duties. The Evergreens will be here soon.” Chairs scraped back and abandoned tasks were gathered up as she left the kitchen, taking the last of the room’s levity with her.
***
Hayley told me which room was Emma’s, and I headed there immediately. When I arrived, I knocked on the door.
“…Come, I’m coming.” A nervous voice sounded from behind the door. Footsteps brushed over soft fabric, locks clicked, and the door opened just far enough for someone to peer out. Although no contract prevented the family from entering the maids’ rooms, courtesy still required them to respect the privacy of the quarters they provided.
“Good afternoon, Emma. My apologies for taking so long to see you. Do you mind if I come in?” She hesitated, visibly frightened, and I realised how impossible the question must have sounded coming from me. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I glanced both ways down the hallway; her room was only two doors from mine. “Look, I don’t want this conversation overheard. Move over—I’m coming in.” I stepped forward, and she quickly retreated rather than block me. Her room was spotless, arranged like an unused guest room except for two packed suitcases. She stood beside them with trepidation, twisting the frills of her maid uniform between her fingers.
I sighed, looking at them. “Once we finished our conversation, you better unpack all your shit. You aren’t going anywhere.”
A shudder ran through her as tears welled in her eyes. I closed the door, moved farther into the room, and gestured for her to sit on the bed before taking a seat beside her. “Listen, I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark for so long. I’ve spent all morning dealing with Abigale from MAIDS and an agent from F-BASEE. I asked Hayley to check that you were all right, but God only knows how she interpreted that request. Did she do anything to you?”
“Erm… well, she made me clean her room again and again, while she watched. She said it was punishment for what happened earlier.” Emma twisted her fingers together.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Look, what happened this morning…”
“Master Jason, please forgive me. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
“Emma, stop.” I scratched the back of my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one messing with you.”
She shook her head at once, eyes dropping to the floor. “You can’t say that. I know the rules. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”
“You reacted because I pushed you,” I said. “That’s on me.”
“No, Master Jason.” Her hands twisted in the frills of her uniform. “I embarrassed you. I made trouble for you. Then Miss Hayley had to punish me because of it.”
“Hayley punished you because... Hayley is a dolt, and she shouldn't have done that.” I said. “That doesn’t make it your fault.”
Emma looked like she wanted to believe me, but the fear in her face held firm. “A maid should know her place. If I had behaved properly, none of this would have happened.”
I let out a slow breath. Every time I tried to hand the blame back to myself, she caught it and bowed under it like it belonged to her. “Emma, I’m literally telling you I started it.”
“And I’m saying I should have stopped it.”
“You couldn’t.”
“I should have.”
I stared at her for a moment, then gave up with a tired sigh. “Fine. If you’re that desperate to take the blame, then I’m keeping the two IOUs from earlier.”
Emma blinked. “You… are?”
“Yes. Apparently, I need compensation for all the terrible suffering you caused me.” I meant it as obvious sarcasm, but her flinch suggested she took it literal.
Her mouth opened, then closed again. The tears didn’t vanish, but some of the panic eased out of her shoulders.
“So unpack your bags,” I said, standing. “You think you can run away while you still owe me two IOUs?" I took her cheeks in my hands. "And the next time I tell you something is my fault, you’ll do as you’re told and believe me.” I kept grumbling after I left the room. “Now, how the hell do I punish a sister who would probably enjoy a spanking? This bloody household.” This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
***
Abigale and Stacy arrived at MAIDS headquarters, despite Stacy working for a different agency; due to a male being involved, Stacy still had to write up a report for MAIDS. Abigale got out of the car a lot less nimbly compared to Stacy. And it was quite noticeable.
“What’s the matter Abby, need a hand walking straight?” Stacy teased.
“Shut up.” Abigale stretched. Trying to readjust her walking posture. It wasn’t helping as they walked to the entrance. “Urge.” She felt it starting to seep out. She needed to get to the bath room before it began dripping down her legs.
“What’s the matter.”
“…I need to get to the bathroom. The bastard ripped my panties off and kept them.” Abigale gave Stacy a side eye as she grinned. She knew, as much as Stacy wanted to tease, deep down, she was jealous.
“Oh, shit. He did. Well, from the looks of it, that ‘bastard’ played you like a fiddle.”
“Oh, my sister, you don’t know the half of it.” Abigale called her in for a whisper with her hand. “Said my cunt tasted like winter spiced fruit cake. Said it was delicious.”
“Damn… he went down on you?” Stacy asked. The two entered the building.
Abigale had just turned towards the bathrooms when the administrative clerk called after them. “Agent Dorcy, Agent Smith—Special Agent Hockley requires you in Briefing Three immediately. F-BASEE is already on the line.” The clerk’s formal tone wiped the last trace of amusement from Stacy’s face. Even before either woman reached the lifts, the visit had ceased to be an odd field assignment and become an inter-agency matter.
Abigale handed her briefcase and Jason’s sealed sample to a laboratory courier, recording the transfer on the digital chain-of-custody form before joining Stacy in the lift. By the time the doors opened on the briefing floor, the evidence was already moving through intake. Special Agent Hockley waited inside the conference room, while Stacy’s F-BASEE team occupied the large wall display.
“Agent Dorcy. Agent Smith.” Hockley gestured towards the empty chairs. “Give us the Henderson visit from the beginning. I want the cause of the displacement, Jason’s current condition, any risks to him or the public, and every instruction issued by Duchess Catherine. Agent Smith, your account will also satisfy F-BASEE’s preliminary incident report.”
Abigale and Stacy divided the account between them, separating what they had witnessed from what the Henderson family had reported. They described the parallel-universe exchange, Jason’s physical differences, his unfamiliar social assumptions and the security consequences of his arrival. “His sample has been transferred to the laboratory for compatibility testing,” Abigale concluded. “Results are pending.”
One of the F-BASEE agents whistled. “men are the aggressors over there. Damn, it’s a shame the weapon got destroyed in the fight.” She said, still wearing her heavy Runic armour. The helmet resting to the side.
“Send us the result as soon as it is verified,” Special Agent Turner said from the screen. “Five perpetrators remain in custody. We can already pursue charges connected to the collateral harm suffered by a male, but confirmed incompatibility could demonstrate that their actions caused a unique and potentially irreparable loss. That would materially strengthen the case for a more severe sentence.”
“You will receive the verified result after Agent Smith submits her report,” Hockley replied. “Until then, Jason Henderson’s origin, physiology and fertility status are compartmentalised. No informal briefings, no corridor discussions and no speculation in written channels. If Agent Dorcy’s observations are confirmed, he may require protections beyond those normally assigned to a displaced male. We will not decide his value before we understand the risks, and we will not let another agency turn him into evidence before we have secured his welfare.”
A confidentiality banner appeared across the wall display as the recording system classified the meeting. Stacy acknowledged the order first. Abigale followed a moment later, suddenly conscious that her eventual report would be read by legal officers, medical analysts and safeguarding staff—each of them searching for gaps between her decisions, Catherine’s authority and Jason’s consent.
“Understood, Special Agent Hockley,” Turner said. “We will restrict distribution on our side.” The F-BASEE team exchanged formal nods with the room before the display went dark, leaving Abigale and Stacy alone beneath Hockley’s scrutiny.
Hockley allowed the silence to settle before closing the electronic file. Her attention moved from Stacy to Abigale and remained there. “Agent Dorcy, your role gives you considerable discretion in safeguarding a male’s social and emotional welfare. It does not remove the standards attached to your post. Do I need to remind you of them?”
“Ma’am?” Abigale asked, a worrying confusion sank into her mind. Followed by the memories of her and Jason. A heat of embarrassment rose up in her cheeks. “Duchess Catherine ordered me too…”
“Have sex with your charge?” Special Agent Hockley. Abigale attempted to speak up, but Catherine Hadnt actually told her to have sex. Only to help him in collecting the sample. Special Agent Hockley caught onto her hesitation. “I have received no phone call from Duchess Catherine, Agent Dorcy. I advise you to be thorough with your report, for your own protection. And be very careful moving forwards with the Henderson's.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Hockley’s voice hardened. “And take a shower before you return to duty.” The order made Abigale understand how quickly her condition had betrayed her. MAIDS employed combat knights throughout the headquarters because safeguarding men was one of the agency’s highest priorities. Their training sharpened more than strength and reflexes; many possessed enhanced senses. Any knight she had passed on the way inside could have noticed enough to draw the same conclusion as Hockley. Under ordinary circumstances, Abigale might have laughed off the attention. Inside headquarters, wearing her badge, it felt like evidence.
Abigale left the briefing room acutely aware of every uniform in the corridor. Knights were uncommon on the administrative floors, but the basement training levels and changing facilities were another matter. She took the lift down, rehearsing the report she would have to write: times, instructions, observations, transfer records and every judgement call she had made inside the Henderson home. The facts themselves did not worry her. The spaces between them did.
At the changing-room entrance, she paused to sign herself off active duty and mark her evidence transfer complete. The small administrative ritual steadied her. Whatever else had happened at the Henderson residence, the sample had remained sealed, the courier record was intact, and Jason was safe with his family. Those facts would matter when Hockley reviewed the case. So would everything Abigale had failed to document in the moment.
She collected her bag and chose the most secluded shower cubicle. Wooden dividers enclosed it on either side without reaching the floor or ceiling, and a curtain offered the only barrier behind her. It was imperfect privacy, but enough to wash, compose herself and decide how to put an extraordinary assignment into language that would withstand an official review.
It nor the running water did anything to block the sounds of agents coming and going across the shower rooms. and every time someone walked past she flinched. "Goddess, will this day be done with already."