Does It Matter?

Chapter 2

Prince Maric couldn't stop thinking about bright blue eyes contrasted against pale skin and dark hair, and it was well past being annoying. He was beginning to wish he had just asked Dara to lend him his hand for a few minutes. That probably wouldn't have caused the slave too much distress and maybe then he wouldn't be fixating like this.

Or maybe he still would have been. It hadn't been sex that was on his mind as he had been trying to get to sleep last night. He had been thinking about Dara, and those guards, and what they did to him. Maric hadn't pressed for details at the time, hadn't thought it really mattered, but now it bothered him that he didn't know.

He had initially assumed that they just beat him, but as he had laid in bed thinking about it he had remembered Dara mentioning, almost off hand, that serious injuries could take hours to right themselves. As though that was something he had regular experience with. After that, his imagination had been happy to supply him with an extensive list of things they might have done to the poor slave.

Now, after just a few hours of restless sleep, he was trying to listen as his father, King Rowan, went over the details of Maric's upcoming diplomatic trip and he still couldn't get Dara out of his head.

Brayan nodded seriously as Maric's father tapped a marker on the map in the middle of the table. Maric had brought the Captain of his guard with him to this briefing because he had wanted a buffer between himself and his father, and now he was doubly glad he was there because Maric was not listening. He struggled enough to maintain interest in this diplomatic nonsense when he wasn't distracted.

It was wasn't only Dara's troubling circumstances that was making it so difficult for Maric to clear him from his mind. Maric was empathetic enough to care about the pain of others, even if they were only slaves, but never so much that it distracted him. There was something about Dara himself the simultaneously intrigued and unsettled him. The way Dara had met his gaze, even and unwavering, only dropping it when he had become flustered.

Maric had almost wanted to scold him several times last night, except he'd never been sure what for. Slaves were expected to behave in a certain way, especially around a prince, but by the time they ended up in Maric's presence they were already fully trained. He had never needed to know the details of what was expected of them because they knew.

Yet Dara acted more like someone doing their very best to improvise proper behaviour. Maric didn't understand it. Even if he had spent the last several years largely ignored, up until he was fourteen he had been thought a fine enough slave to be prepared as a special gift for Maric. Had the trauma shaken him so much that he had forgotten everything he'd known?

"Mm, that is troubling," Brayan said. "Isn't it, Maric?"

Maric stared at him. He had no idea what his father had been talking about.

"Yes," Maric said after far too long a pause, fooling nobody.

His father sighed. "Some of the bigger cities. They've been becoming less compliant it recent years."

"Ah," Maric said.

Maric's father kneaded at his temple. "You're a man now, Maric, but still young. This trip is important. Having personal charge over part of the kingdom will be good experience for when it's your turn to rule, but this isn't a game. It's not easy to change someone's opinion once they've made their mind up about you."

"I'm aware."

Maric's father shook his head. "Awareness isn't enough. You need to be able to make the tough choices. If they think you're weak—"

"Fine." Maric stood up. "I had a disagreement with some of your guards last night and I feel like they may not have really taken my words to heart. I think you'll see that I'm willing to do whatever is required to make sure I'm respected."