To be awake at six o'clock in the morning following a grilling by throngs of irate morons, possible declarations of war, and a full-scale review of arms production was not usual. As such, the sentences the filled his horizons barred him into his present state of mind instead of presenting a map to victory.

Glancing up from his parchment gulag, Jess looked over to a shard of china that peeked through the forest of papers which had somehow conquered his desk. He just needed to put things back into their proper place, he just needed a? the only substance visible within the cup consisted of a vague brown stain.

There was no coffee.

Bloodshot eyes roamed the candlelit room. His underlings had fled hours ago and with them he had unknowingly dismissed his last lifeline.

There was no coffee.

The brass-rimmed timepiece above him read six he noticed? but it had been three just a few moments ago. Damn! He must have fallen asleep, this was important; where were all of those slacker morons he called employees? Probably off getting a nice relaxing rest, awakening from six hours of sleep between soft, warm sheets only to drift into work five minutes past six just to annoy him. They had to have their blasted "family time" while for him?

There was no coffee.

He had spent his only three hours of sleep in a goddamn wooden chair. His back ached, there were crease marks on his forehead, and he couldn?t find that bloody report on catgut production for the third regiment?s bowstrings. None of them had bothered to leave him any coffee or his favorite breakfast pastry. Not to mention the fact that none of them were in the bloody office on bloody time even though they had only been up until bloody midnight!

And there was no coffee. There were also no croissants.

He always had coffee and a croissant for breakfast? always. If he didn?t then things weren?t right. It was just what he did, a morning ritual rarely broken throughout years of hard work. Visage haggard, eyes sunken, Jess stalked into the common office area. When the first civil servants arrived there would be coffee, and there would be croissants, and there would be hell to pay.

Jess was not a morning person at the best of times.

To most of the office Lord Jess was just another boss. An obsessive-compulsive and freakishly smart boss, it was said, but no better or worse than any captain of industry who might hire them for clerical work. He acted as they expected him to, generally bowed to the majority?s wishes when labyrinthine office politics forced action, and asked of them only efficiency. They delivered gladly, glad to retain a steady job which guaranteed funds and shelter free of rent. Madeleine Rousseau wished that she was one of those people, for from what she had heard Lord Jess treated them quite well. Unfortunately, she had been given the position of Lord Jess? personal clerk after being interviewed last week. She must have been smoking some pretty heavy-duty herbs when she had accepted that position.

Oh sure, it sounded alright when they made the pitch. Great quarters, decent salary, and a chance to maybe meet the famous Lady Anabelle or travel to foreign embassies. The Muse government respected her for her excellent work regardless of gender, and wanted to promote a rising young star to a position of prominence within the civil service. She would be able to stretch her skills to the limit and perhaps even one day replace Lord Jess himself?

Maddy should have smelled the bullshit miles away. Any hope of accomplishing relevant or meaningful work was currently being crushed by the worn-looking man glowering at her. This had to be the crappiest first day on the job that she'd ever had; she hadn't even said hello and he was already trying to establish some kind of dominance thing over her.

"Where the hell are my croissants and coffee?" the chamberlain snapped. Croissants and coffee? The guy wanted her to bring him breakfast!?! Madeleine hadn?t quit her very lucrative job for the Rockaxe Armorer?s Association to be some loser?s gopher. A rounded, pale face remained expressionless while an unnoticed palm became a clenched fist.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Ms. Rousseau. I?d assumed when I hired you that you knew how to do your job," his voice prodded insistently, irritatingly? He dared to question her skills!?! That rat-bastard would pay?

She fixed him with a fiery stare and proceeded to growl with a rapidly growing intensity. "I am a highly trained professional and I will not fetch your goddamn coffee! I graduated from the Greenhill Academy at the top of my class just like you did, "lord" Jess, and I refuse to be treated like some lacquer-gilded bimbo! Now do you have anything with a point for me to do, or are you too busy whining about your breakfast!?!"

Okay, so she hadn?t exactly quit her job at the association... but so what if she was fired for "emotional outbursts" and had been forced to forge documents to secure her newfound employment? This guy was a jerk, although the look on his face was rather amusing?

Lord Jess was, in turn, rather taken aback. This skinny, short little newly hired woman dared to talk back to him?

"Professional!" he cried, infuriated. "You?re trying to talk to me about professionalism!?! You show up late for work, don?t leave me any coffee, and then scream in my face like some.. some CHILD and then expect to be treated like a professional!?!"

Their eyes narrowing, the combatants inched closer to one another. Jess was now leaning across the oaken desk, his papers scattered about the floor, and Madeleine had moved towards the target of her anger. Tension filled the atmosphere as each tried to stare the other down. Boring into her grey eyes, he relished the thought of the immediate end of her career. A worthless idiotic slacker like this woman didn't deserve such a coveted position.

" I think, Ms. Rousseau, that you should pack your things."

"Should I?" she smiled; Maddy never forgot to do her homework. Soon, the reality of the situation impacted upon Jess? brain as it was driven home by her sledghammer grin. The beleaguered chamberlain put his head in his hands, staring forlornly down at what had once been an orderly stack of documents.

They both knew what had stopped him in his tracks; Bill 145, the Anti-Sexism Act. He couldn?t fire the stormy-eyed demon without due process, and failure to bring him coffee would never hold up in court. Any evidence of insubordination came down to his word against hers, and frankly Jess just didn?t have enough influence over the judicial system to make the risk of trial a comfortable one. The selection of an inconvenient judge could ruin his career or his finances should she decide to file a civil suit. Although a supporter of women's rights, the feminist movement had never proven so annoying to the chamberlain in his entire careeer.

"I must have been mistaken," Jess begrudgingly corrected himself. "I meant to ask you to issue me a report on the annual barley harvest and how it will effect our emergency supplies."

"Of course," she said while exiting the office, still sporting that damned smirk. A worthless slacker - but a clever, intelligent worthless slacker.