Working for the Duke of Barklan wasn’t a bad lot, really. The Duke was stern and intimidating, and his rage could be a terrifying thing to behold – especially around the full moon, when it could make for a great deal of work mending torn drapes or sheets or clothes, or in the worst cases, moving in new furniture. Everyone feared what that temper might do if it was ever turned against them.

But the Duke had always been careful to send his people away when something roused his ire. He was very careful about that.

And it wasn’t like he was angry all the time. Not even every month. He was touchy around the full moon, yes, everyone knew it – but the staff didn’t need to creep around and avoid him, even then. He was stern, and he was fearsome, but he was fair. And the pay was good – Anastasia never had to worry about food or firewood for her family. Even when times were hard for everyone, the Duke paid attention to that; he never called for a feast in lean times, and Marianne said he’d once opened his own coffers to have food brought into the duchy during an especially bad year.

Sometimes all of that could be easy to forget, when faced with his scant praise and his scowls, or when his bellows echoed in the halls and things were crashing around. After one such episode, Anastasia wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t seek a position somewhere else. Baron Gith’s house was nearer her family’s home, maybe he had room for another maidservant. She could visit a little more often…

It was a chance encounter in the cellars that made the decision for her.

Anastasia didn’t go down there very often; her duties often took her to the kitchen, but not beyond that. It was left to someone else to fetch things for the cooks; she tended to the food after it was prepared, as a rule. But the Duke had called for new linens, and someone needed to fetch more to keep the closet stocked.

At first she thought the dark form she passed by on the straw pallet was a dog – shaggy grey fur, pointed ears, a sturdy collar around its neck – but when it sat up to look at her, she saw that it had hands, and proper arms, and wore a loincloth.

She lurched back a step, gasping in shock; and the wretch flattened its ears and looked away.

Instantly she regretted her response. None who’d seen the Duke around this time of month could fail to know what manner of man was before her now – and even if his temper was more violent, the Duke was unarguably still a man, even when the moon was full; it was just so surprising to see such a one here, and in a bondsman’s collar at that.

“Goodness, you startled me,” Anastasia confessed. “Are you all right?”

Hesitantly, the figure looked up at her again for a moment, then cast his eyes down. “Yes, Miss. Sorry, Miss,” he said, his voice gravelly, but far from the Duke’s fearsome growl. “Do you need help carrying that?”

She blinked. Bondsfolk offering to help? Back home, they’d needed to be commanded, and that sternly, to do anything more than they already did. And usually the wretches were too exhausted to do much of anything. “That would be welcome, thank you,” she said automatically; and the man rose. Upright, he was a stocky fellow; his pelt was clean and neat, and his clothing, however simple and embarrassingly brief, much better-kept than the bondsfolk she’d known elsewhere. He took over her burden with ease.

Anxious in the silence, Anastasia said, “It must be horrible, being kept down here…”

“Oh, no,” the man said. “It’s comforting. Safe. Baron Gith had me chained in the yard around the full moon. I’ve heard of other places where just being a werewolf is enough to meet the headman. But here I can stay inside, and people talk to me.”

Anastasia missed a step. “Chained in the yard?” The Duke didn’t do that with his actual dogs. “What if it rained?”

A shrug. “I got a bit cleaner,” the man said. “He didn’t want me upsetting the staff being seen indoors like this.”

Suddenly she had her doubts about working for the Baron, convenient to her home or no. “How was he to his servants?” Anastasia wondered.

The man hunched a little. “Not my place to say, Miss,” he murmured.

“Please,” she urged. “I need to know if he’s… easier to work for than the Duke.”

There was a lengthy pause. Then, reluctantly, “The womenfolk didn’t like it. I’d hear them, sometimes, when the moon was out. In his bedchamber.”

“In his bedchamber?” she repeated, aghast. “At night? With him?”

A glum nod. “Yes, Miss.”

“And if they refused him?” Baron or no, surely the man had no right…!”

“He’d say…” The man thought a moment. “He’d say they were lucky to have a master who’d give them a few trinkets if they pleased him, Miss. He’d say others would just take it for granted that they were there for him.”

Anastasia shuddered, pressing a hand to her lips. Loud he might be when something angered him, but the Duke had never treated his staff like that. Suddenly, working for Baron Gith, or indeed anyone that wasn’t Duke Barklan, didn’t seem quite so appealing.

“Just set those there,” she instructed, indicating a table in the laundry. “Thank you, you’ve been quite helpful.”

The wolf-man’s ears rose up somewhat, a smile touching the edges of his mouth, his golden eyes lighting. “Thank you, Miss,” he said, and turned toward the backstairs.

Chained in the yard, indeed. Even the meanest prisoner got better treatment than that. Anyone who could don a bondsman’s collar instead of being put on a chain gang – or locked up tight – deserved more dignity.

And here, she could be proud that her master gave such dignity – even to the lowest of his people.