Chapter Twelve

The Regent went to see his nephew about an hour after they'd been back, and Remus heard the yelling from his room. It didn't last long. Both came to Remus's room, and he kneeled by his bed as he watched them.

Corentin had found his calm demeanor once more, and Sébastien was rigid despite his stoic expression.

"We promised you a reward, and you may ask it of Sébastien. Whatever the cost, I'll ensure he gives it to you."

That was Remus's chance, so he asked for what he truly desired.

"You want the five Rowland slaves here released?" Corentin asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty. If you were in my position, and it was Soleilians, I think you'd ask the same thing. They've committed no crime."

The Regent gazed up at the high window as he seemed to consider that. "I don't know where the others are." Which meant he didn't care to find out and go through the trouble. "But the five here I can have released and even placed on a ship to Rowland. What they do afterward is not my concern."

Remus's breath caught. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"You could learn a thing from your slave," Corentin said. The Prince slowly turned his head to his Uncle. "Not only has he learned his place, he also thinks of others first. Instead of letting him mount you or whatever you two do in private, perhaps you should also ask him to give you a lesson in thinking of someone besides yourself."

The Prince's glare turned to one of death. "I don't touch werewolf fuckers or look to slaves to teach me."

"Perhaps you should listen to those beneath you."

"But I can't give a lan to a woman with a baby," Sébastien stated.

Corentin drew himself up more and straightened his coat. "I'll decide your punishment some other time when I'm not so angry."

"You do that, Uncle."

Corentin gave him a long look before he strode out. Sébastien watched him go, and the door slammed before he turned to Remus.

He knew his slave was free to look for an escape now. There was little to hold him back at this point. Remus remained on his knees with a placid expression as if escape had never crossed his mind.

"I suggest you don't think too hard about certain things," Sébastien said in a quiet voice.

"I only think of how I may please you, Your Majesty," Remus said in a neutral tone while fighting back a smirk.

Remus could have sworn he saw red flash in Sébastien's eyes when he turned away. He waited until the doors to the Prince's quarters slammed shut before he sat against the side of his bed. He was exhausted, but that was twice in one day now that he'd seen. It had to be some kind of reflection, right? Actually, it was three times. Last night, there had been wine puke on the floor, so some trick of the light had caused it, right?

There was nothing red in his room. Still, he'd imagined it. He was worn out, and he was tired of this place, the violent Prince, and everything else. Eyes didn't change color like that. He hadn't gotten much sleep that morning, so it was time to catch up and grab a nap so he'd stop seeing shit that wasn't there. When he crawled into bed and stretched out on his side, it didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

***

The next few days were dull. The Prince went out and did whatever. He probably wondered if he could get away with stabbing Remus in the throat again. Remus walked the hall, counted holes in the lattice, gazed longingly outside, and chatted a little with the guards.

Nobody was flogged or sacked. At first, Tom was a bit reluctant to talk since he'd probably gotten some stern words and threats, but he loosened up after a couple of days.

The whole court was talking about what happened and how Sébastien stabbed the Commander of the Guard. Opinions on whether he was right or wrong were mixed since Martin had tried to kill him, and that was undeniable.

After four days, Sébastien brought him out to the dayroom where they'd entertained Meph. He expected to find the Regent had lied, and the young man from back home would be there, but he wasn't. The room wasn't as crowded since quite a few people had gone to early graves thanks to Vemer. Remus was sure he spotted a few new faces, and it seemed some had decided to come to court. Nothing so bad as before could happen again in such a short time, right?

Life went on for the rest. Someone was getting their cock sucked at a table again, and two slaves were fucking on a large cushion to the enjoyment of a few. They were quite loud, and the moans of the one being fucked sounded fake. Sébastien didn't seem to notice that or any of the debauchery in the room as he led his slave to sit on some cushions by the wall.

"Don't be wandering around or I'll flay you while everyone watches."

After what he'd seen so far, Remus wasn't sure if that threat was empty. Once it was safe, a couple of ladies next to him scooted closer with interested looks.

"Excuse us," said the purple-haired one as she gestured at the woman next to her who had blue hair. "My sister wants to know something."

"Like you're not curious too," whispered Blue, and Purple barely held back a laugh.

"Er, what?" asked Remus.

"Does the Prince have a big cock?" Purple asked with a straight face.

"Men with natural white or silver hair always have the biggest cocks," Blue stated as if it were an undisputed fact.

Both stared at him with expectation written all over their faces.

"How about if you go ask him?" Remus pointed at Sébastien who'd joined a middle-aged lady at a small table to play chess. "Maybe he'll pull it out for you and call for a Royal Measuring Stick so you can see exactly how much he's packing."

Both laughed, and Blue spoke. "But only if we get to hold the Royal Penis Measurer and decide where his dick starts."

Shit. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. If two ladies tried to accost the Prince at some point to measure his cock, slave or not, he'd probably stab Remus in the throat for that too. "Don't do that."

Purple gave him a look like he was stupid. "Still…is it big?"

"I don't know!" Remus was sure he'd never find out at this point since Sébastien seemed to have no interest even though he probably didn't believe that Remus had been getting pounded by werewolves all day back at home. That was ridiculous.

"He doesn't fuck you?" asked Blue.

"No." Thank Elira.

"We made a bet to see if you'd tell us. We don't actually care how big his dick is."

"Good. Neither do I."

"You're the Rowland Prince, right?"

"Yeah. He acts like Rowlands are all riding werewolf knots and are defiled. I'm sure he prefers the pure hole of some whore or a courtier."

Purple and Blue whispered together for a few seconds. "Have you tried to get in bed with him?"

"Why would I want to fuck the guy who owns me and stabbed me in the throat?" Like Remus would lie down and spread his legs just because someone said they owned him.

"Privileges since that was cleared up. We've heard he's frigid, has ice in his veins-that sort of thing." Blue waved a hand. "Do you think he's a virgin?"

Remus shrugged and remembered a couple of comments he'd heard. What if he was a virgin? That wasn't a bad thing, although rather unusual. Still, why did so many have to talk about it?

"Half of the guard wants to bed him," said Purple. "They seem to think they can loosen him up with a good dose of cock. That's what our owner says."

"Because men think their cocks cure everything," said Blue.

"We know why you're here," added Purple.

"I'm not really a traitor," he said.

"Eh, I don't think a lot of people believed that anyway."

In the end, it didn't matter if the Soleilians didn't believe that. Sébastien got to have the enemy Prince as his slave, and that was all that counted.

Blue sighed. "We got arrested for sex on private property."

Remus frowned. "What?"

"We're street whores," said Blue. "We took this guy into a shed behind some abandoned house. Or we thought it was abandoned. Anyway, he paid well, so we were giving him the time of his life when someone threw open the door and started yelling. The owner of the house was around and saw us go in. Fucking in someone's shed is illegal, and they'll arrest you for anything today."

"More slaves," said Purple. "We got a good amount saved up and hidden somewhere, so we tried to bribe the guards, but they refused."

"That old lady with the spectacles bought us."

Remus spotted an old lady who pushed up her spectacles. She was playing cards with a bunch of others at a round table.

"She wants companions and says we make her feel young again," said Blue. "We barely have to do anything except pick up something when she drops it and put her shoes on. Her back is stiff."

"We'd like her better if she lost us. You know what I mean?" Purple raised her eyebrows.

He nodded. "Yeah. But I guess she won't?"

"We asked her, and she went into a big lecture about how we should be grateful that she bought us because if someone else had, we'd be forced to do all kinds of nasty stuff. Like she's a damn hero. I get her point-"

"But she could still take a little trip and lose us," said Blue. "She could also not report us being missing and pretend to be losing her mind since she's old. She's already on her way there."

Even though acceptance of slavery caught on fast because the worst parts of people rear up in times like that, not everyone agreed with it. A few might buy someone to protect them.

But that was also bullshit at the same time because Remus was pretty sure she could "lose" a couple of slaves and not put much effort into finding them. Neither of the women was of high status or guilty of serious crimes like murder, so why bother keeping them?

She didn't want to let them go, and she probably viewed herself as a hero for saving the two young ladies. The other problem was that buying something increased the demand.

"Why does he always wear black?" asked Blue. "He looks like he came from a funeral."

"I don't know," said Remus. "He doesn't discuss his clothing with me."

"You're just a thing to parade around. Elira would fall over if she saw this today." Purple waved at the room and plucked at the tunic of gold cloth he'd been given to wear. Ridiculous. Spectacles had said he didn't need jewelry and looked miffed, so he figured the Prince had said to not bother.

Remus was still the most valuable slave in the room. One with strands of diamonds draped over his shoulders and torso and nothing else was sucking his Master's cock. Thank Elira Sébastien hadn't ordered him to be kept naked and dressed in only jewelry.

The women started talking to each other about something else. He thought back to the paintings and wondered if Blue was onto something. Remus hadn't thought about the fact that Sébastien looked like he was ready for a funeral.

With the ever-present color, it was almost like he was forever in mourning. He had lost everyone except for his Uncle.

Maybe he didn't fuck and preferred to keep everyone out. Watching so many trickle away could surely cause second thoughts about letting others grow close. Or maybe Remus just wanted to find something more fairy under the throat-stabbing and disregard for others.

He had given that woman a coin.

But only to look good in public since showing a few bits of kindness helped his image. If people heard unpleasant things, they'd likely remember he was also the sort of man who gave homeless women money to care for their sick babies.

He didn't care. Anger could twist and warp anyone. A sweet boy could one day grow up into a man who beat his wife. Maxime probably saw little things over the years and thought there was hope yet.

"Checkmate," Remus caught from the Prince as he leaned back in his chair, satisfied with himself as usual.

***

The Prince brought him out again around midmorning the next day, but instead of going downstairs, they went up another floor.

"Where are we going?" asked Remus.

"Did I say to speak?"

The Regent waited in his room and was sitting by the empty fireplace with his coat unbuttoned, and his head resting in his hand. His room had fewer bookshelves and lacked the dais that Sébastien had in his quarters.

"You didn't need to bring him," said Corentin.

"You didn't say I couldn't. Dogs need walks." Sébastien gave Remus the end of his lead and settled in the chair across from his Uncle. "Kneel."

Remus figured that was for him even though Sébastien was looking at the Regent. He gritted his teeth as he sank to his knees on the rug. A few portraits of the family were hanging on the walls. One was of the Regent and his brother when they were teenagers. Remus averted his gaze from all of the frozen eyes staring at them. A pentagram made from wood with symbols around the edge, some kind of trinket, hung near the door to the bedroom.

"What do you want?" asked Sébastien.

Corentin tapped his fingers on the armrest. "I asked you to come to do petitions with me."

"I know."

Corentin lifted both hands. "Your absence was quite noticeable."

"Hmm." Sébastien blinked at him. That little hum grated on Remus. The disdain behind that simple noise was beyond evident.

"Well?" Corentin tilted his head.

"I didn't feel like it."

"You haven't accompanied me in about three years except for the recent incident with the werewolf. Not everything is that urgent, and the daily basics of being a King can grow to feel menial, but it's still work that needs to be done."

"You like doing all of the work."

"It's my duty, and I'm also more experienced, but your experience must come from somewhere. Nobody is born with it. They must learn, and a good way to do that is by doing."

"I'm sure I can figure out what to decide when the time comes," said Sébastien. "If it's so tiring, step down."

"No."

"Or not." Sébastien shrugged. "You also like to criticize."

"So you can improve. I'm not seeing much improvement, and you expect me to step down? Shall I sit and do nothing while everything piles up because you don't feel like dealing with it?"

Remus wanted to groan. He had to listen to this spoiled brat make excuses about shirking work?

Corentin waved a hand at Remus. "Go over by the wall there and kneel."

It was hardly privacy. Remus kneeled by the wall near some shelves and struggled to listen while trying to look like he wasn't.

"This isn't the son your Father raised and the nephew I've raised. You're twenty-two, and I swear, with every year that goes by, you grow more sour. Where's the sweet boy I used to know? Where's the sweet boy who used to run to me every morning and listened to me?"

"I'm not a child. Sorry you can't perch me in your lap anymore."

Corentin sighed. "You changed-"

"A lot of things changed in case you forgot."

"You still wear black every damn day. You don't do anything anymore unless it suits you. I doubt you'd go to Finkin if needed like before. I don't know what I'll be handing the throne over to. A Kingdom requires work, and it's a great weight. I can do the office work, but you should be doing Petitions more than me to get a better grip on how to rule. This attitude is like a child, and it's very unattractive on you."

"I'm sure much is."

Corentin watched his nephew's blank face for a long moment. "What do you want?"

Sébastien shrugged. "What can I ask for now?"

The Regent straightened in his chair. "If you continue to act like this, I'll be forced to take action."

"Of course, Uncle. I'll try to be better."

The bland proclamation didn't fool Remus, and he had the nasty thought that it'd be better to put the mourning Prince out of his misery.