Choose the younger man

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

“You can call me Aressi, Your Majesty,” he says with a nervous bow.

"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," Aressi says, sounding awed. “The next King will be born from your womb. That means you deserve the same respect and title as the King himself, Sir.”

"All right, Aressi, you're my valet. You sound like you know more about this Vessel crap than I do. Sorry," you say to the older man. He bows stiffly and 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.

“But Sir,” Aressi says. “Don’t you want to wash up and change into your nightclothes?”

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

"I wouldn't let that happen, Sir," Aressi says. "I would be executed 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 could give you a sponge bath instead," Aressi offers shyly.