Chapter Five

Beside Remus, Sébastien grew more rigid as Meph was led out. Corentin wasn't exactly giving him a loving look.

"I still think your actions last night were far too much."

"My own slave suggested a demon assault me," said Sébastien. "Yesterday-"

"I did not," Remus said before he could help himself.

"Be quiet," snapped Sébastien.

Corentin's eyes flicked to Remus. "I do want your side, but you'll speak when spoken to in the future. Don't interrupt. Sébastien?"

"Yesterday, Meph approached him, and they spoke for several minutes. I thought nothing of it at first since Meph spoke to many yesterday and was likely merely curious. I didn't expect for them to be speaking ill of me and for my slave to goad another into pushing himself onto me. Whether or not he likes me, his loyalty should remain with me because I own him."

Bullshit. Why on Ymir's dirt would Remus owe him loyalty when he'd been forced into slavery?

"Who knew what would have happened if no one had heard me? A demon who's used to a realm with slaves and violence isn't likely to take a no for long. Demons are prone to violence since it's what they know, and I don't think that's exactly a huge secret."

Corentin nodded slightly. "Remus, what did you tell the demon?"

Remus took a deep breath. "Your Majesty, we spoke a little of him traveling, and Meph seemed to think the Prince was…strange. I'm not entirely sure what he meant, but he was curious as to how the Prince's energy might taste."

Remus barely caught the faint stiffening of Sébastien next to him. The wording sounded utterly disgusting after last night.

"He said the Prince was cold, and I did agree because…" Remus hesitated. "He's not exactly warm."

Corentin frowned at him.

"I said their age gap was too much since Meph is nearly a hundred and fifty, Your Majesty. Meph didn't care and asked if I'd be jealous. I said no because it's not my business if Prince Sébastien takes someone to bed. He asked if I should thaw out the Prince, and I did say yes, but I meant it as a joke and also because I don't care who the Prince is with. I didn't think Prince Sébastien would even be interested. I didn't mean that Meph should try to force anything on the Crown Prince or touch him. At the moment, we were two men simply talking, and I thought he meant it as a joke, and that if he were rejected, he'd leave it be like a decent person. I wasn't suggesting that he do anything."

"That's not a very nice joke to anyone with common sense," said Sébastien. "Then again, maybe it's not that common after all."

Remus's face grew hot. "Men say stupid shit to each other sometimes."

"Yes, you are indeed stupid."

The words were faint, but Remus caught them as he focused his gaze on the Regent. "Your Majesty, I didn't mean anything by it, and I certainly didn't expect him to get handsy and push himself onto the Prince. I didn't even think he had a real chance since he hadn't been here long, and if he made an attempt to get with Sébastien, the answer would be no, and that would be the end of it. I'm truly sorry for my words and any thoughts I led him to have because that was not my intent at all."

"Men often boast and say bold, stupid things that mean nothing when they're joking around," said Corentin. "We can't know the other's intentions, especially when you've never met before, and you can't be entirely responsible for someone's thoughts. I think you were wrong in your assumption, Sébastien, and he meant no ill harm. Your choice to kill him was far too severe. Did you forget that he's a gift from King Quintus?"

"If King Quintus sent a rabid dog that bit me, would you expect me to act as though nothing happened?" asked Sébastien, and many of the courtiers murmured their agreement. Since Remus was far more muscular than the Prince and had a few inches on him, he probably appeared as a sort of wild animal that needed taming in their eyes.

Corentin plucked a piece of lint from the laces on his coat sleeve. "You could have had him whipped so he'd learn to keep his mouth shut about you if that's what you want. It's too late for that now, and I'm sure he will keep quiet now that you've driven a dagger into him. What is wrong with you, nephew? We have a treaty with Rowland, you were given a present, and you act like this. Like a spoiled brat."

Remus wasn't the only one who didn't like the attitude.

"I thought at the age of twenty-two you'd understand this. Your brothers would, and you're nothing like them which is quite disappointing at times. With older role models, you should have grown into a better man. Instead, you've allowed anger to rule you again. Normally, I would say to do as you please with your property, but not in this case. Killing Remus would be like spitting in the face of King Quintus. He specifically had him prepared and brought here for you to use, but that doesn't include slaughtering him. I expected better from you."

"I'm sorry to have displeased you," Sébastien said smoothly. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. You still need to apologize to your slave."

Remus nearly asked, "What?" He couldn't imagine the Prince doing such a thing, and he felt lucky to return to his room without any punishment.

"I don't see the need," said Sébastien.

"I do," said Corentin.

"Do you expect the others to apologize to their slaves when they're displeased over something?" demanded Sébastien, and a few laughed as if the idea were preposterous. "One was flogged several days ago for a small offense, not that I'd argue with his Master's decision since the slave is his property. Still, I'm sure the slave thought it was beyond unfair. Perhaps he needs an apology."

"That slave didn't nearly die," said Corentin. "You'll apologize."

"Very well." Sébastien turned toward Remus. "I apologi-" he started.

"No, no." Corentin waved over a servant. "You're going to do it properly in the Rowland way. Remus, stand." The servant listened to a whispered command and hurried away.

Remus slowly stood. With Sébastien, he didn't feel the need for this, and he'd rather not do it. It wasn't to honor Remus's people and their way of doing things. It was to humiliate the Prince.

Sébastien had gone rigid, and something flashed in his face as he peered at his Uncle. "This is Soleil, Uncle, not a barbarian country."

"And?"

"Perhaps we should follow all of their ways and release the slaves too or allow werewolves to roam about."

Laughter rippled through the room, and Remus caught the word "ridiculous" from someone he couldn't see.

Corentin's frown deepened as his eyes flicked over the crowd and back to his nephew. "Do it properly. Remus, you're to apologize too."

What would happen if the Prince refused? Corentin could probably take away some things, and that would ratchet the Prince's anger even higher.

"Very well." Sébastien turned to Remus and smiled at him as he stuck out his arm.

Remus kept his face neutral as he clasped it. Through the fabric, the Prince felt stiff like he truly was all ice under his tightly laced clothing. His bright smile didn't warm his eyes enough, and his grip on Remus's forearm was tight as though he wished for it to hurt.

"I apologize for stabbing you in the throat." He was probably imagining doing it right then.

"I apologize for speaking ill of you in a way that led to wrong thoughts," said Remus.

He meant it because even though he couldn't stand the Prince, he didn't feel anybody should be manhandled. That wasn't his way, and people should have consent over their bodies and actions, although he had very little of that in his own situation.

Sébastien leaned forward, and they lightly kissed each other's cheek. The Prince barely pecked Remus's right side. They did the other, and as Remus's lips touched, Sébastien's slim fingers squeezed hard enough for his fingernails to dig into the skin. Since his face was hidden from Corentin by his slave's, he whispered instead of giving a peck.

"How many werewolf cocks have you had between those whore lips? Disgusting." His breath tickled Remus's ear, and his natural rose and jasmine smell was almost too much for a second.

Someone so foul shouldn't smell so beautiful.

Sébastien pulled back, and Remus struggled to keep his face pleasant as though he hadn't been dreadfully insulted.

The courtiers applauded as if Sébastien had done something monumental by apologizing, and several started talking. Remus knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he tilted his head and whispered.

"In Rowland, I'd punch your teeth in for saying anything like that during an apology."

"You're in Soleil, and Uncle only said I can't kill you." Sébastien gave him another smile that would have been gorgeous on anyone else. It made a pit form in Remus's stomach.

"I meant it when I said I was sorry," said Remus. "I didn't say it simply because I was told to or insult you during the act."

"Mhm." Sébastien blinked at him, all wide, innocent eyes, perfect fangs, and teeth that hadn't been punched in.

Corentin didn't look too pleased, and for a moment, Remus thought he'd heard the punch comment. But he was gazing at his nephew. Shouldn't he be happy his nephew said sorry even if he cheated? At least he gave the appearance of being humbled.

Corentin waved a hand at the people who instantly hushed. "Was that so hard?"

"No, not at all, Uncle." Sébastien beamed at him and brushed back a few strands of his loose hair.

"Your slave is still subservient to you since he kneeled earlier without being told. I think he's a quick learner, and it was a good choice to have a Prince as a slave since he's educated and can use common sense to know how to please his betters. He's less stubborn than we imagined, eh? Considering the severity of what you did and because you threatened the peace between our two nations, you won't mind doing this either."

Three servants rushed in, and Remus's gut clenched. That was too far considering they were slave and Master in the eyes of the Soleil and not at all close. He glanced at the Regent who appeared slightly smug.

This was turning into pure humiliation, and not for Remus. He remembered someone saying that the Prince had once said he'd never lift a cup with a Rowland man.

Sébastien's smile had fallen off, and his expression was rather bland with a hint of curiosity, even though he had to know what this meant.

Between them and the throne, the servants set up a little table, draped a cloth over the top, and placed a bottle of wine on it next to a large glass with a wide mouth. They'd already opened the wine and pushed the cork back in simply so it wouldn't spill.

"If you need help with knowing what to do, you can ask Remus," Corentin said as he leaned back.

"I've already heard of this."

"Your Majesty, this isn't needed," Remus hurriedly said.

The Regent raised an eyebrow. "What I command my nephew isn't your business."

"I only mean to say we're not related or particularly close. This isn't needed if you're worried about offending Rowland or King Quintus." Apologizing and sipping from the same cup was for blood, people close enough to practically be counted as family, or rulers. Remus wasn't truly royalty in their eyes.

"Will it hurt?" asked Corentin.

"Er, no, Your Majesty."

"Then I don't see the issue."

The cutting gaze from the Prince was swift, and Remus was surprised he didn't snarl too. The last thing they needed was more humiliation piled on the Prince so he could possibly take it out on Remus later once they had privacy.

He took one side. Sébastien remained silent as he stood on the other and wiggled the cork free of the bottle. With a steady hand, he poured until the wine reached the very top of the glass.

"Hand." Sébastien held out his left one. "This will be a fresh start but without the warnings like before. We don't need to go backward with you spending a day in the humbler because you can't speak respectfully to me."

Remus's face burned as several courtiers laughed, and Corentin cleared his throat. Remus took the offered hand to clasp, and with their free ones, they both lifted the wine glass to nearly eye level.

"I apologize," said Sébastien.

"I apologize."

With both holding the filled glass, they leaned forward and put their mouths to either side to take a sip. Sébastien's eyes didn't leave Remus's, and he barely wet his lips. They set the glass down with the job done.

They'd said sorry and not spilled a drop which was supposed to be a sign of their honesty, although that was superstition. Only steady hands were needed, and it was more the act itself. The courtiers applauded even though that wasn't the time. Not that they cared.

"Good, nephew."

"Since we've done Soleil's custom, we should do ours for slaves, Uncle," said Sébastien. "Fair is fair."

Corentin hesitated. "Very well."

Sébastien turned to Remus and raised his pale eyebrows as he came around the table. "Go ahead."

"Erm?" He was pretty sure he knew what to do from hearsay. Did he want to do it? Fuck no.

"Get on your knees and prostrate yourself to me," said Sébastien. "After you apologize, you'll beg my forgiveness, and once I grant it, you may kiss my boot. In the future, it may save your back from the lash, so make sure you remember the proper way, although you'd do better to not commit a grave offense. The word Master is to be used, not Prince or anything else."

A Prince didn't kiss boots unless he was into that sort of thing with a lover. They also weren't whipped, but nobody cared here, and if he refused this humiliation, it would be worse later. The Prince would especially see it as an affront since he'd endured enough public shame with Rowland etiquette.

Remus dropped to his knees and placed his forehead on the purple carpet while he tried to keep his ass down so he didn't flash half of the court with a look under his tunic. He just had to get it over with. It was survival and nothing more although he'd rather ride into a battle.

"I apologize for speaking of you in a way that led to wrong thoughts. Please forgive me…Master."

Quintus was probably laughing back home. He had the throne while Remus grew to know the purple runner.

"I won't make you grovel further," Sébastien said to laughs. "I forgive you, slave."

One more thing. Remus looked at the shiny, soft leather of the Prince's boots. It wouldn't kill him, and he had to do it to avoid jabbing the Prince's anger and making it worse.

He didn't hurry it or make a face as his lips brushed the leather. No one could say he'd rushed or hadn't made a decent show of being humble. Sébastien wanted to shame him, and the court wanted to watch something. It was simply another form of entertainment to them.

"Lift your head." Sébastien placed his hand on Remus's head for a second.

He might not have teased the cat, but he was sure he hadn't calmed it from its earlier anger either.

"We're done," said Corentin. "Think before you act in the future."

"I will, Uncle."

"You make me wonder at times. Come here before I go."

Sébastien stepped up on the dais to approach the Regent. Once he got down on one knee, his Uncle leaned forward to touch his head.

"We raised you with more love and compassion than this. Show it." He kissed his nephew's forehead, a typical blessing among Soleilian families. "I forgive you."

"Thank you, Uncle."

"You may go."

Sébastien came down and held out his hand to Remus who squinted and stood. Were they supposed to hold hands now and act chummy?

"Your lead," said Sébastien. "I said common sense wasn't common. You're proof."

Remus bit his tongue and handed the end to him. The other courtiers started to mix and move about the room, although of course, none blocked the way for Corentin as he exited. The servants took the wine, table, and cloth away. Several courtiers came to speak to Sébastien, and a few were quite vocal in saying how they thought the Regent had been inappropriate.

"This is Soleil, not Rowland," a woman said as she fluttered her fan so forcefully, one would have thought Corentin had personally insulted her. "The Regent shouldn't have dared to ask you to perform their customs and kiss a sla-"

"He's only doing what he thinks is best," Sébastien broke in smoothly. "He is my Uncle after all, and it's best if we keep the peace."

"But still," said another man.

"You wouldn't suggest that my Uncle doesn't know what he's doing?"

"No, no, no. Of course not, Your Highness."

From behind, Remus was sure he caught the word "frigid" and a hasty "Shh!" If someone wanted to say silly insults like Meph, they'd best do it elsewhere in private.

Remus had to stand there and listen while the talk drifted to other things. Courtiers kept gawking at Remus, and no one wanted to get too close to him. A couple of others approached the Prince. Someone brought up the entertainment to be had that night which included singing at dinner since the Regent had hired a traveling group. Several were looking forward to it, but the show afterward would be the real highlight. A few made a face.

"Werewolves," scoffed one lady. "I hardly find that entertaining. Why would I want to watch such beasts?"

"You don't have to stay," said Sébastien.

"I won't, Your Majesty."

"Werewolves shouldn't be allowed in this Kingdom even for entertainment," said another.

Remus's stomach dropped. Werewolves as entertainment? Dear Elira, they must have caught a few, and they'd be treated like a curiosity show. Thankfully, he'd be in his room and wouldn't have to watch that disgrace.

It took a while for Sébastien to get to the door so he could leave since others kept pestering him with silly shit. In the hall, he led Remus to a window seat by the door, and he lounged his graceful figure on the silken cushions before he flung the end of the chain at Remus.

He barely caught it before it hit his face.

"Watch what you say at all times," Sébastien warned with venom in his tone as his fangs flashed in the light from the window. "Or I won't let you have any fun."

Ooh, how terrible. Remus kept his trap shut. Saying he wasn't having any fun so far wouldn't go over well.

If only he could open the main doors, walk across the yard, and leave through the fucking gate. He was a fairy being. "I said I was sorry, and I actually meant it." Unlike Sébastien.

"Hm." The Prince curled his lip as he glanced up and down Remus's body. "You're such a brute."

Only Sébastien could make him feel a thread of shame for being such a large man. "I'm not a brute. I'm just…muscular."

Sébastien regarded him for a long moment. "I highly doubt your custom meant shit or you're sorry. You're all brutes, muscular or not."

"It does mean something, and I am. We're fairies just like you. Ten years ago, you had no problem with Rowland."

"You're so big, I doubt anyone's ever really hurt you," said Sébastien.

Elira, how Remus wanted to punch that smug face. He'd also lost family and been ripped from everything he'd ever known. "Are you aware of how I got here, Prince Sébastien?"

"Yes, I'm very aware. You weren't that banged up, and nobody dared to mess with my present on the ship. Lucky you, eh? You can spend the day in your room. Tonight, you'll come with me to dinner and the entertainment afterward. Don't piss me off later."