Maid For The Alien Warlord

Chapter 1

Avin

“Why don’t you repeat those words again?” I scream, loudly pushing open the doors to my mother’s sitting room. She sits, as she always does at this time of the afternoon, in her comfiest chair, her spectacles perched on her long nose.

She squints at a letter in her hand, a cup of tea steeping nearby. Like clockwork. I can always be sure to find her like this at this time of day.

Without removing her glasses, she looks up at me. I can already see the creases of annoyance around her eyes.

“Repeat what words?” she asks, her eyebrows only slightly crimped. I know she’s not going to like what comes next but I won’t tolerate it any longer.

“Repeat them, you imbecile!” I say menacingly. My valet, a simpering waste of space named Hydren, stands like a dolt in the doorway. On any given day he resembles a tall doormat. There’s barely any meat on him and I think he has about two brain cells.

From the first day he became my valet (about two weeks ago), I knew we were going to have a problem. He simply couldn’t keep anything straight.

But today is the last straw. I caught him napping in my closet. When I asked him what he thought he was doing, he suddenly got an attitude. 

Now, however, he’s gone silent. Sputtering and spitting, his eyes are wild looking and he’s lost his nerve. My mother has that effect on people.

“Don’t waste my time. Say whatever you’re going to say and get out,” she says, languidly but with a touch of icy annoyance.

Hydren stands there like a lump. Several strained seconds pass.

“Fine. I’ll say it. This man is a moron and should be fired.”

Something in my words jolts him out of his stupor and his face flushes red.

“You can’t fire me! I quit!”

And, just like that, he spins on his heel and walks out. There’s a moment where I almost feel something akin to admiration for this sad sack finally growing some manhood, but it quickly passes. I plunk myself down onto the plush two-seater near my mother’s chair and grin.

Glad to get him out of my life, I think. Just like all the others. Of which why has there been more than a few?

My elation at getting rid of the moron immediately starts to cool. Right. Another one. After all the other ones. There have been so many.

My mother, on the same wavelength, sighs heavily and levels her eyes at me. This time, she does take her spectacles off, never a good sign. Her thick, white hair, set in a long braid (her style when she’s not receiving visitors) practically thrums with annoyance.

“Tell me, son of mine, do you set out to have everyone I hire terminated or does it just happen naturally?”

I wish the tone of her words was as light as the actual words themselves. The terrible truth is that I can’t keep a servant for more than a few weeks at most. Instead, I bluster.

“Well, everyone you hire is stupid and beneath me. No one lives up to my exciting standards.”

“I wish your standards were in the realm of reality. He was the last one I found that actually answered the job posting.”

Sitting deeper into the couch, I sulk. It’s not my intention to have my servants fired. I don’t mean it to start out that way. In fact, I find myself feeling a sense of optimism with each new person, only to be very quickly disappointed.

But why, though? There has to be a deeper reason. 

It’s true. Someone might be incompetent, but they can learn, can’t they? Why am I so hell-bent at pushing everyone away? My mother is the only person with whom I have a conversation lasting more than a few minutes. 

Is there something odd about me? Or is it the world around me?

“What now?” My mother asks, pinching her nose in aggravation. I’ve ruined her afternoon, I know that much.

I wish I knew. But I’m bored and restless and…well, destructive. It’s not a good combination. Almost like a disembodied spirit, I see myself acting out at times and though I know it’s not going to end well, I can’t seem to stop it.

Something’s got to change. But what?

“Avin. You cannot keep doing this. There is too much at stake. You know this.”

I hate it when she’s right. Especially with everything she has planned in the coming weeks. I didn’t need to add this to her burdens.

If only I had something to do, some purpose, or….

What am I saying? I’m a noble Kiphian warlord. We aren’t expected to do anything.

My mother has worked hard to ensure I have a life of leisure. Since my father died commanding a contingent of troops to Horus IV, she has overseen my education, my upbringing (with only the best and most patient tutors) and basically ensured I will want for nothing. It’s very unusual for Kiphian women to take on such a role but then again, my mother, the esteemed Lady Mavid, is no ordinary Kiphian woman. 

I’ve seen the toll it has taken on her and know that my repayment will be in the form of a good and profitable marriage. And those pieces, I am hesitant to say, are about to fall into place. has been maneuvering this for years. 

“We have to find someone to replace Hydren right away. And there is no one left. Since you have so clearly stated you are the smartest in the room, who would you suggest?”

I hate it when she plays these games with me. There’s no way I can win. Instead, I turn into a truculent teenager once more and blurt out, “I don’t know. And I don’t care. We could hire anyone smarter than that blockhead. Even a human would do at this point.”

I wait for her scoffing response but none comes. My sulky facade drops so I can look at her directly. 

To my amazement, my words have left her deep in thought. Could she possibly be contemplating hiring a human? Doesn’t she think they are no better than pests?

We sit in silence for many moments before I skulk away, leaving my mother to think.