Royal Secrets (BoyxBoy)

©Jenny Bertel

I think I was about six when I was sold into slavery by parents I can no longer remember. The mother I'm told was a farm girl, poor and simple. The father a local blacksmith, sly and deceitful with women. Whatever the story I was sold like livestock. I stood, hands tied in front of me and tears streaming down my face as I waited to be gelded by a man with a very sharp little blade in his hand. That was the tradition with male royal house servants. I did not even know what my balls were for yet and I was about to lose them. I remember that day very vividly even now. I was terrified and I was bawling. They had me behind a building where they slaughtered animals and if not for the king's young son riding by my blood would have joined that of countless sheep and pigs.

He was around twelve with red hair, regal already on his black horse wearing fine clothes. I had red hair too but I was in rags and filthy from neglect. He stopped the men surrounding me. His eyes regarded me with curiosity.

"Not that one, leave him intact. Send him to Ann I am interested to see what he grows into." He had said...I would not see him that close again for years.

I was deeply relieved to keep my stones however I received a very painful branding of a crown and sword emblem on my left inner forearm. When the hot iron was pulled away from my flesh it took the skin with it and the scar it left was a bold declaration of my servitude that I could never remove.

I was eighteen now. I'd grown up very fortunate to be well cared for under his watchful eye. I worked but never too hard, I ate well and I was given enough free time to think for myself still. They even taught me to read and write but he had not spoken to me or come close enough for me to speak to him in all those years. I had never been able to thank him. I'd never been able to talk to anyone my own age very often or interact very often with the staff outside the senior staff that had raised me. I'd never stepped foot inside the palace either. For a slave life was very good, I was never able to forget that I was indeed a slave however. I am often impulsive and careless. I have found myself at the end of a whip more than a couple times. I also spent a very, very long day and night in stocks once. Once was enough for me.

This day I found myself escorted in by a royal guard and left standing alone in his room surrounded by dark rich wood walls decorated with fine paintings. A big empty bed dominated the room, buried in black satin and overflowing with pillows. I sat down on a gilded black brocade bench at the foot of the bed wondering why I was here, I shook ever so slightly all over. I didn't like the situation I was in nor the feeling of unease it produced in the pit of my stomach.

I felt as if I sat a long time before finally he made an appearance. I knew it was him when he walked in but he looked nothing like the little boy on the horse from so long ago. He was tall and graceful and his eyes were dark green. A woman would more than likely have described his face as beautiful, it wasn't quite hard enough to be called handsome. His hair had become a dark glossy auburn that lay in thick ripples, ending at the small of his back. Wide shoulders, deep chest. He was a very imposing man. I was shorter than him, slender and weak compared.

He smiled patiently. "Stand...don't be afraid." He ordered gently. His voice was much deeper than I expected.

I stood but I was afraid. I was in his bedroom, that probably wasn't such a good omen. I had no clue what he wanted me for. All these years he bided his time with me for something. Something he had no intention of rushing evidently.

He drew very close, lifting my chin very gently with a curled finger. "Look at me Aysha." His voice sent a shiver down my back. I wished he wouldn't touch me.

I was dressed very plain but my clothes were clean. White linen shirt and brown leather pants laced tight down my legs. He was dressed like a king's son. Sheathed in form fitting red embroidered fabric, velvet and warm sable fur. His trousers were heavy almost polished black leather that weren't quite as snug as mine. To finish it all off he was dripping with gold and wore a large ruby on his hand.