Choose the older man

"What's your name, sir?" you ask the older man. The two valets exchange surprised and then amused glances.

"I am Yveri Serron, Your Majesty," he said. "It is proper to address me as Serron."

"Hold on--are you messing with me?" you ask. "Why did you call me 'Your Majesty'? I'm not the King, I'm just..." You're not really sure what you are, but you're not royalty.

"You are the Vessel," Serron says with a deferential nod. "Your womb will carry the next King of Remaria, and that grants you the same title and respect as the King himself."

"All right, Serron, you're my valet. You sound like you know more about this Vessel crap than I do. Sorry," you say to the younger man, but he looks relieved. He bows and quickly exits the room, closing the door behind him. You stifle a yawn. "Now that that's settled, I just want to sleep." You stagger toward the bed.

"Might I suggest a bath, Sir?" Serron says. "Begging your pardon, but you smell like a goat."

You sniff the ragged sleeve of your work shirt. "More like a mule. A bath sounds wonderful, but I'm so tired, I'd hate to fall asleep and drown."

"I wouldn't let that happen, Sir," Serron says. "My life would be forfeit if I let anything happen to you."

"Well, now I really don't want to take the risk, if it means both of our lives," you say.

"I suppose I could give you a sponge bath instead," Serron offers.