Pasternok was small for his 18 years, and generally was treated as much younger than his peers. He had been
sent to the king when he was 14 for training. At that time, his own father's kingdom was a key ally. Since
his half brother had assumed that throne, Pasternok quickly learned he was no longer welcome back to his
homeland. His strategic value to the king declined accordingly, as his half-brother remained a staunch ally.
So instead of being fast-tracked to knighthood, Pasternok found himself relegated to page boy duties.
Tonight, he had been ordered to go to the Grand Duke's suite to clean up after his bath.
There were dirty clothes scattered about the suite, and water splashed all over the floor. Fortunately, there
was no sign of the Grand Duke. For all his bluster and rank, the Grand Duke was physically about the same
size as Pasternok. So carefully, Pasternok barred the door. If asked, his pretense would be because he was
picking up clothing from behind the door or mopping there or something, and hadn't wanted the door to open
into him. It was already past midnight, so he didn't expect anyone would be coming through that door. The
fact that the Grand Duke's bed was empty merely suggested to Pasternok that the bastard was off making
bastards with a maid or lady in waiting, and would slink back to his room in the early hours of the morning
like usual. Pasternok had a rather low opinion of the grand duke and not having any friends at court, he
tended to talk aloud to himself in private.
"Damn, that Grand Duke is a pig. It'll be an hour at least before this place is habitable. I wonder at his
upbringing. I was always taught to hang up my clothing, not to toss it on the floor and expect others to pick
it up," Pasternok said shaking his head.
Such disrespect! I'll have him whipped! screamed Robespierre's mind. He no longer had a voice. He still had
a body - well at least a form. He was no longer human. He was an object. He wasn't quite sure what he was,
as he couldn't move to look at himself in a mirror. One minute he had been in his bath. The next he had been
shrinking, and he tried to get out of his tub, but suddenly the sides were too high. It was like when he had
fallen in the harbor as a child, and bobbed against the wharf unable to reach the boardwalk overhead. At last
someone had lowered him a rope. There was no one to hear his tiny squeaks for help. Eventually a servant
would come, he was certain. Unfortunately by that time Robespierre was no longer recognizable as the Grand
Duke. He was an object waiting to be found.
Pasternok had finished straightening up the main chamber, now he looked at the brass tub in the alcove. He
started picking up the wet towels, washcloths and garments strewn about. He saw the nicely folded robe on the
chair, and wondered if the Grand Duke was naked. No, he shook his head, far more likely that the squire had
helped Robespierre dress, folded the robe and left the mess for others to clean up.
"Hm, the bath water's still warm," remarked Pasternok, "I haven't had a real bath in ages." He paused. He had
time. He could claim he hadn't wanted to get his clothes wet so he took them off. Besides who would complain
if he used dirty bath water. It didn't look dirty. Than again, what exactly did the Grand Duke do to get
dirty, and he took baths daily. Pasternok laughed, "Why not?" He stripped out of his clothing and hung them
on the hooks near the alcove's entry. Then he stepped into the bath. Water sloshed.
Hey! That's my bath! Get out your dirty ass out of my tub!
"Hey, what's this?" remarked Pasternok as he reached for the object he saw partially covered by a wet cloth.
He grabbed it and held it to his face. He didn't know that he was holding the Grand Duke Robespierre himself.
He was intrigued by the object, and he coveted it. When he was done with his bath, and done cleaning, he would
take that object with him.