《Gardenia of Blooming Desire (BL)》


 Prologue: First Sight

    The sun was halfway through its peak. The summer hadn''t been kind to Aster and his skin. He already wore a large felt hat and gloves to protect area that might get exposed to direct sunlight. Maybe because the gloves were white and thin, he could feel his hand burning. He checked the red spots on the back of his hand, the spots started getting itchy, but it would be painful if he scratched it. He took one step behind to stay under the shade of his tall dad. He was against the idea of visiting the summer market, but his dad insisted, he said they would find him a birthday gift.


    The bustling market flooded with people who waited for the yearly trade. Everyone stood on the side of the road like him and his dad, waiting for the wagons that''d arrive soon. Every mid-summer, wagons in various sizes would come, bringing the goods and valuable items, such valuable items appeared mostly on the shape of diamonds, exotic ingredients, rare animals, or the one that his father tried to find, slave.


    "Watch the wagons, we might find it," his dad said. The wagons of slave commonly shaped like those for farm animals. However, while the farm animals were usually fat, healthy and delicious looking, the wagon for slave was overstuffed, smelt pungent, and the slaves were never delicious looking.


    "Can we just buy a pet and go home, dad?"


    "I told you already. You need a your own slave, you are fifteen now," said his dad firmly. Aster knew the answer already, but he never understood why would he need a personal slave. They had maids and butlers ready inside the mansion, beside, he never liked having someone followed him everywhere; he could just get a dog if he wanted it. However, they said buying a slave was the sign of early adulthood for teenager such as Aster, for those who could afford it. Since the kingdom set a high price to own a slave, those who could afford them were mostly nobles and conglomerates.


    Charles, his older cousin, was once taunting him for not owning a slave. He laughed, and told him that having a slave was necessary, because slaves were useful when you were mad. Aster didn''t understand why, but he came to realization when Charles demonstrated what you could do to it. He kicked his slave''s back until he fell on the floor. The slave stood again after a while, completely silent as if that kick never happened.


    ''Is it necessary?''Aster asked himself. His dad always told him not to hurt anyone who did not or intend to hurt you. But they said slaves were not human, young Aster wondered, if they were not human, why did they act and sounded like regular people. He asked Charles'' slave about his name, but he just closed his eyes, his body tensed and he clenched his fist, as if he was expecting something. He did not say anything and squeaked when Aster drew near him.


    "You''re not supposed to touch them, Aster. They''re dirty," said Charles when Aster asked what happened to his slave. That answer didn''t satiate his question, if it was because the slave was dirty, he could shower until his dirt peeled off his skin, thus, they could had the same skin color like everyone.


    Aster had many questions about this, but he refrained himself from asking too many questions. Last time he asked his dad about Uncle Thomas who married a dirty-skinned woman, hadn''t visited their mansion for more than two years, he was scolded for asking an adult question. Which was a shame, since Aster liked chatting with Uncle Thomas'' wife. She treated Aster as a friend than a nephew, since their age gap wasn¡¯t big after all.


    "It''s here!"


    Aster snapped out of his daydream when someone from the crowd shouted. People turned their head to the eastern gate, bunch of wagons in various sizes, lined up with their goods to sell. It was like a parade, flashy, but the luxury went downhill after few line of wagons. Aster realized that he wagons always had been lined up on the same position every year. The expensive, luxurious items such as gemstone, exotic ingredients, rare animals and shiny apparels were always in front. They would open the parade with their flashy items inside their big, metal wagons, then following behind would be the less luxurious ones, harvested food, regular tunic and linen, farm animals and the one in the end of the tail, slave wagon with its dirty, pungent stench.


    The royal guard always inspected the wagons, and then they would lead the wagons to the wide field designated for yearly market. Aster and his dad followed the parade, just like everybody on the side of the road. Aster was not a short teen, he was in fact tall enough, sporting around 170 cm at the ages of fifteen. However, his dad, who was tall enough to tower him, grabbed his arm in fear that Aster would be stomped by the crowd.


    The parade ended after they reached the field. Many of those merchants set up a tent quickly, due to the summer heat. Although, Aster doubted that slave and farm animal wagons cared about setting up tent. The sun was in its peak just now, summer heat produced stench out of the farm animal and wagon slave, who was placed on the furthest end of the field.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Aster found the stench horrible, nothing in the mansion smelt like this. He always came to the market every year, but he never came to realize, how unbearable the smell in this section of the market. They''d always come to the jewels, apparel, and his dad''s personal favorite, weaponry. His dad has peculiar taste of weaponry, blades and knifes and he favored those who came from eastern land. His dad had his own room, full of blades and knives, neatly hanged with its sharpness reflecting the light. Despite that, his dad didn''t had skill to use it. He might appear scary, tall and scary. But, he was not by any means a violent dad, at least to Aster.


    Aster thought they would go to the weaponry wagon first, but they went straight to the slave wagon. He covered his nose out of reflect, this horrible stench, he might need to throw his clothes after this. He couldn''t describe the smell, but it was something he''d never touch. He followed his dad to the only slave wagon this year. He saw the slaves were lined up like a statue, and then the costumers would inspect one they might buy. He counted the amount of slaves were put to sale today; it was twenty, mostly men and a lot older than him. They were only covered with dirty rough pants from their waist below. They were dirty, bone worryingly protruding, and their body reeked. Their face were not pretty, mostly flat noses with big forehead. However,


    The slave wagon was not crowded with only around twelve people surrounded the wagon, some were few familiar faces that Aster recognize as his dad''s business colleagues. He noticed that most people who surrounded the slave wagon were wearing gloves, thick leather gloves. They inspected the slave''s body, but often doing it with no remorse. Aster recognized Mr. Deaconn, a colleague of his dad''s logging business. He saw Mr. Deaconn grabbed a slave''s head as if he was grabbing a ball. He also grabbed the arm, with sour face; pushed the slave away after inspecting. Aster glanced at the merchant who did nothing but laugh at it, as if it was funny.


    "Dad, Mr. Deaconn is not very nice to that slave," Aster said. He thought his dad would approve his complain, but he just laughed it off.


    "They''re slave, you don¡¯t need to be nice to them."


    Aster went silence after that. He looked around the slaves, who lined up, battered, tired, and probably starving. However, he must ensure himself that they were not human. They might had the same feature as him and everyone around him. But they were not human. It was what his dad and his family said.


    While his dad approached his business partner for small talks, Aster was tasked to pick his own slave. Dad gave him his leather gloves, so his hand wouldn¡¯t be dirty. Aster joined the crowd of costumers who inspected the slaves. There were five female slaves and fifteen male slaves. Aster looked at their face, but couldn¡¯t do it after one of the slave looked back at him. Their eyes were pitiful, he might not had the heart to push them around. His plan was to pick one that wasn''t old, or too young. He also didn''t want a female slave, because she might die if Charles or Adder, his violent cousins kicked her.


    He was not impressed, none of the slaves were good enough in his eyes. They were older than he expected, they might be on the same age as his uncles and aunts. Maybe this was the reason why Mr. Deaconn face went sour. But he still disapproved Mr. Deaconn''s rudeness. Aster wanted to leave now, he couldn¡¯t handle the unbearable stench and he wasn''t keen on having a slave to begin with.


    Before Aster stepped out of the crowd, he noticed a boy whose skin was lighter than the slaves who were lined up, but still a lot darker than his. The boy was heavily tanned that his skin glistened by the sun. He stood behind them, near the tent of the slave merchant. He was around his age, scrawny but not dying. He had scar in his left cheek, but the most perplexing feature he had was his look. He had short, messy black hair, thick eyebrows, deep black eyes, and nose sharper and smaller than Asther''s. His thin lips calmly shut, as if he expected anything that''d be done to him. He looked calm, with two men inspecting him. But every time they touched boy with their leather gloves, he gritted his teeth and trembled.


    Aster approached the boy after the two men were done inspecting. The boy, who was bowing his head down the whole time, finally raised his head up.


    A sharp, but calm gaze pierced through Asther''s guts. He felt weak suddenly, but not out of fear. He couldn¡¯t not fathom what he was experiencing, he slowly drew near the boy until their gap thinned. They exchanged gaze, a minute long gaze that made Aster nervous, yet assured.


    He was assured, he chose this boy without hesitation.


    Two buds grew together in a garden of desire


    In the duration they wished would never over


    Even though the soil was dire


    They promised to bloom as a lover.

 Young Lord of Grand Duchy

    "You want this boy?" Dad asked with doubt. Aster, who had assured himself nodded once, which made his dad even more confused. "This boy is not a regular slave, Aster. He is for--"


    "I want him," Aster said. He was sure since the moment their eyes met, he knew this one was for him. It was rare for Aster to be this assured, but he had a feeling that he''d lose something if they didn''t buy this slave. Dad finally agreed to buy this boy, but with one requisite.


    ''You must never share the your bed with him.''


    That was the requisite whispered to his ear by dad. Aster didn''t understand what he meant by that. Of course he wouldn''t share his bed with a slave. They were dirty and might had dangerous disease. Aster nod. That was an easy requisite.


    Dad sighed, but finally agreed to buy this slave for him. Aster followed his dad to approach the merchant whose name was quite hard to spell, at least for Aster. He was smoking with a weird, curved pipe on his left hand and holding a whip with his right hand. He had a long, groomed beard accompanied with a thick whisker that was quite intimidating. He also wore a small red hat with tassel on top of it.


    "Can I help you sir?" said the merchant. Aster realized that he had thicker accent than him.


    "How much is that boy?" dad asked while pointing at the boy. The merchant smirked, as if he knew something.


    "Good sir, I don¡¯t know that you need him to relieve your stress. Was your wife too sloppy? Or you just wanted a new thing?" the merchant asked. Aster found him to be rude, but his dad stayed calm.


    "How much is that boy?"


    "He is a new addition, my good sir. He is new and young. I would say seventy gold coin for him,"


    ''SEVENTY GOLD COIN?!'' Aster''s eyes widened. He could buy two very expensive horses with that. He looked at his dad, as he was afraid that his dad would never spend that much.


    "How many times was he used?" dad asked firmly.


    "Sir, he is pure. I wouldn''t--"


    "No, I know he wasn''t pure anymore, I had one myself."


    "Ah, you''re a keen one," said the merchant, he looked disappointed. "I don¡¯t know how many times he was used before, but I can assure you he was clean. I checked it."


    "You''re licensed by the kingdom, right?"


    "I am. This is my license," the merchant pulled out a scroll from his bag, and then gave it to dad. Aster wanted to peek on that scroll, but his dad was very tall, it made him impossible to peek. Dad read it for a minute before he nodded and gave the scroll back to the merchant.


    Dad stared at the boy who stole glances from time to time. He was caught glancing at us that he gulped and then casted his eyes down. "Forty gold for him," dad said. The Merchant looked displeased, but he raised it to fifty gold. Which dad finally agreed, the deal was sealed.


    The merchant handed the license of the ownership and unlocked the cuffs on the boy''s hand. "He is yours."


    Aster approached the boy again, now with his dad pondering whether the slave cost was worth the price. They exchanged gaze for the second time, but this time, the boy smiled. Aster was bewildered for a moment, because the boy''s smile was very perplexing that it stunned him.


    "So, this is the boy that cost me fifty gold coins." Dad said. He didn''t look happy, but he promised Aster a gift.


    The boy nodded, then he puts his head down again. Aster expected so, since his dad''s appearance wasn''t the kindest.


    "Let''s just buy some flower for your mom and go home."


    Aster walked beside his dad, while his new slave followed from behind. They bought some freesia and gardenia, his mother''s favorite and went back home with their horse carriage. The new slave sat beside their coachman. Aster glanced at his dad, before casting his eyes onto the scenery of the Storm Hill. Although, he enjoyed the view, he wanted to express his gratitude toward his dad. Before he could say anything, dad called his name.


    "Are you happy, Aster?" dad asked suddenly. If what he meant as happy was because he bought him a slave, then he would say yes. So, Aster nodded. Then it was silence again. Dad checked his pocket watch, before shouting at the whip to be faster.


    Aster closed his eyes and mesmerized himself to the evening breeze that hit his golden-wavy hair. Their mansion was quite far from the city. Although, not far enough to be called as secluded area. It was close to the nearest village, with one hour worth of travel by carriage. The mansion was located on the top of storm hill, a hill whose area was owned by his dad. It was the wish of his mom to build a house on the top of storm hill. The sun was always shining, showering every plant to grow fast and healthy. The rain was always enough to keep them watered, but not flooded. It was the perfect place for his mom.


    As for Aster himself, he enjoyed it most of the times. He loved playing in the garden with his mom. He loved seeing his dad sharpening a knife or a blade himself. He enjoyed following Sir Douglass managing all the business and meeting for his dad. Even though, Sir Douglass always ended up scolding Aster for pestering on his work. He enjoyed chatting with the maids and butlers when they were not busy. He enjoyed it all.


    However, he wouldn''t say there was no drawback. He hated the silence of the mansion. The maids and butlers always kept their mouth shut, quietly doing their tasks and then left to the pantry or backyard to talk with each other. They were acutely aware of their speech manner to him or his parents.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Aster couldn''t just go to nearby village and play with other kids or teen his age. He had unknown illness that made him unable to stand the sun, both its ray and heat. He would get rash that lasted for the whole day after he stayed under the sun for an hour without protection. Sometimes, when the rash was severe, his skin started burning and red blisters filled with blood would appear under his skin. He couldn¡¯t stand heat, especially during summer, as he would feel nauseous if it was strong.


    He was unable to go out from 8 in the morning up to dusk. He could, like today, walk under the heat of summer. However, he''d need to wear hat, gloves, high boots, jacket, and applied a very thick lotion, which supposed to let him survive for few hours before the rash appeared.


    To think about it again, he looked funny from head to toe with his layers of protection. He looked out of place. Maybe that was why he refused to go out to the school. There was time when he entered the school for a week when he was a kid, but his classmates were terrified when red blisters appeared underneath his skin. Then, his skin started oozing out blood. Aster should''ve blamed his dad after he forced him to enter school on the beginning of summer.


    After that, Aster never went to school. He was then, homeschooled with few tutors who visited the mansion during their schedule. He remembered tomorrow''s schedule, Wednesday. Sir Douglass taught English Literature, as he had free time every Wednesday.


    "Have you selected the preferred candidates from that village?" dad broke the silence, pointing at a village east from the carriage.


    "Not yet, dad. Should we follow the schedule, it''d be around three days to do so," Aster replied. He sighed, even in the supposed weekend, his dad still found a way to talk about work.


    There was a village near the mansion, whose villagers would usually sell their farm goods to his mansion before selling it to the market in the city. Aster did approach to them once, but they were no different than the servants, their mouth was filled with candy, their words were sweet and soft. But, Aster knew they didn¡¯t speak like that, he heard them talking to each other. They were crude, vulgar, but it looked like they had fun, unlike him.


    "This. I entrust you with this, I suppose you could do the task well."


    "Yes, dad." Aster replied him lazily. He closed his eyes. With his eyes closed, his dad stopped yapping and he could ponder in his imagination about living in that village he visited few times.


    Aster opened his eyes after the horse neighed. They had arrived at the mansion.


    He lived inside this large estate since he was five years old. The mansion wasn''t build from scratch. It was his dad who bought it from a bankrupt conglomerate. While his dad was always fond of changing and decorating, his mom loved the way the mansion looked on her first sight.


    The mansion looked similar to that of an old castle, the wall was pile of white stones stacked carefully with mortar between each gap. The roof was dark blue, with four towers on each corners of the mansion. The west tower was used for the watchers. Aster couldn¡¯t remember the name of the watchers, but there were four of them. Two would stay on the front tower, and the other two would watch on the back tower. They would sit on the top of the tower, then watching the surrounding area with binocular.


    The back east tower was for his mom. The tower was directly facing the flower garden, where she would stay and stare for hours. She also knitted in the tower while watching the garden. She was keen to knitting, she often knitted shawl for Aster. He hated it, bright red shawl embroiled with white lily flower as motive, purple white-stripped sweater with big heart on the middle of it, not to mention the infamous knitted gloves with ''Aster and mum'' on it.


    The front east tower was for Aster. It was Aster''s wish to had the front tower as his room. The mansion was large, with many empty rooms that Aster thought unnecessary. He had explored every empty room in this mansion and wandered about the use of it. Since they never had large number of staying guest. He counted seventeen empty rooms supposedly for guests, whilst including the all rooms for his family, servants, and Sir Douglass''. He hated it, the hollowness of this mansion. He could scream for only an echo would answer him.


    He stepped out of the carriage with his dad. Anne, one of the maids greeted them on the front gate before telling them that dinner was ready and mom was waiting.


    "Uh-- Excuse me¡­"


    Just before Aster and his dad walked to the main hall, a hesitant voice interrupted them. The slave they bought looked scared.


    Dad sighed, "Take care of his body, clean and feed him. Present him tomorrow morning, after breakfast."


    "Yes milord. Please excuse us."


    Anne dragged the new slave, they walked from the side of the mansion, probably went to the workers hut for him to stay. Aster glanced at the new slave before the maid dragged him. Their eyes met again for the third time today. He couldn¡¯t help but something entranced him after seeing those pair of deep, dark eyes.


    Aster shook his head. He shouldn''t be bewitched by ridiculous thing. He would meet that slave again tomorrow, then.


    ''Then, what would I do?''


    Aster went silence. He never planned to that extent. He picked the slave out of instinct. As if he knew that was the only chance he could get him. He didn''t even wanted a slave.


    Aster shook his head once again. He straightened his posture and followed his dad to the main hall. It was useless to ponder about something trivial. That was what his dad always said.


    The main hall was always bright, with four golden chandeliers hanging high up on the ceiling. The wide red carpet embroiled with golden silk covered the floor, the marble staircase with balcony at the center to greet guests during the party, and the golden embroiled crest of a camellia flower with two crossing sword beneath it hanging just above the balcony. Which was the crest of his mom''s noble family.


    "Welcome back, Sir, Lady Camille is waiting," Sir Douglass greeted dad in the main hall. He bowed his head. Dad just nodded and left Aster with Sir Douglass as he went to the family hall.


    "Welcome back, Young Lord," Sir Douglass bowed his head to Aster. While Aster thought it was rude to ignore a greeting, he also thought his dad was a stern man that such trivial greeting was irrelevant. Aster also nodded and walked away, such act might raise his credibility in front of Sir Douglass. "Young Lord. It is rude to ignore a greeting. You ought to watch your mannerism, as what I taught you since you were young."


    Aster stopped, turned his head to Sir Douglass and sneered, "Pardon my impertinence, Sir."


    Aster walked faster as his mind grumbled. He never understood what made Sir Douglass a very strict man. If he let dad did such thing, why did Aster must follow all the rules and mannerism. He was not a noble, never wanting to be one. Aster climbed the wooden spiral staircase leading to his room.


    The room he resided was quite large. It had no corner, as his room was inside the east tower. Although, it was mostly empty, with only large bed in the middle, huge wooden wardrobe, a desk for him to write, and a sofa directly facing the large window. There was a fireplace and a red rug that he used during winter. But the balcony was his favorite spot, because it has roof to protect him from the sun and rain. He would sit for hours, while reading book or just watching the hill at dusk. Otherwise, he had nothing else. He did not have particular interest like his parents.


    Aster sat on the sofa. There was a book on the sofa, the one he requested to the butler before he went with his dad to the market. It was The Eulogy of the Prince, written by his late granduncle before he passed away, a story of a prince on his journey of becoming the king. It was Sir Douglass'' recommendation, but he thought it would be interesting to read the legacy of his bloodline.


    Aster lit the candle in his desk, and started reading the book to pass time and to ignore the trivial matter his brain kept sticking around.

 Eulogy of the Prince 1

    The maid who led me to the house behind the mansion looked uninviting. She wasn''t young, maybe on her end thirties. But, her steps were steady, each step had proper timing and rhythm, and her maid dress was clean without any stench on it. I wanted to ask few things, but her gaze was sharp and cold, it swallowed my guts.


    We walked pass many rooms in this hut. The lord of the mansion might say it as a hut, but it was the same size as the house of my second owner. There was a wide living room with chairs and fireplace and a kitchen when I entered the hut. The maid led me to corridor with many doors on its left and right. There was about twenty of them. While I was curious, I did not dare to stick my head around. The maid mumbled about something I didn''t understand before we stopped at one room near the end of the corridor.


    "This is your room," said the maid.


    "Oi, it''s Anne!"


    While I stood behind Anne, I heard people inside the room scurrying around, since I heard creaked beds.


    ''Wait, Beds?''


    If this place actually gave bedding to slaves, that''d be pleasant. I wanted to sleep on bed, with proper clothes and position, of course. My old master didn¡¯t even bother to give me a proper cloth before.


    I followed Anne who entered the room first. It was more than I expected, maybe I should praise the lord for this blessing. There were two bunk beds, and a small wardrobe with a hanging candle to light the room. There were two men stood nervously in front of Anne. They wore regular tunic, but it was not brownish or yellow with horrible stench on it. It was a clean tunic. I expected people who were on the same condition like me, but I was the only one who looked dirty.


    "Jean. Dirk. This is the new slave," Anne tapped the floor. It was the subtle order that I realized immediately. I stepped beside her. "This one is different, he is a gift for young lord. Don¡¯t do anything precarious to him."


    "Yes, ma''am." Said one of the guys. They looked nervous, was Anne that scary? Did I need to fear her? She might look stern, but I still don¡¯t understand why would two healthy men be nervous and scared around a woman who was not even beautiful.


    Anne turned his attention towards me and pointed at the wardrobe, "Your clothes are there, take a bath and rest. You will meet young lord as a proper slave," she said. Although, I already knew all the formality, I never knew that I would get proper bed and tunic on my first day.


    "Yes, ma''am." I said, imitating what the guys said before.


    Anne left without saying any words. I can hear her footsteps slowly disappearing, and I heard loud breath of relieve from the guys in front of me. They sat on their bed with relieved expression, as if they just escaped death.


    "Man, I thought we''re done for."


    "That woman is a death sentence."


    While they busy talked to each other, I stood there nervously. It was my first time to had a proper room with other people. They stopped talking after a while and stared at me. One of them shook their head and opened the wardrobe. He threw a clean tunic and a towel to me.


    "Take a bath, we had soap and toothbrush in the bathroom."


    "The bath is empty now, use one of the tub. God, you stink."


    I nodded. Although they were not friendly enough, at least they didn¡¯t stomp me. It was more than enough. I went out and entered the bathroom.


    I thought the bathroom would be a small area consisted of murky water in a tub and a hole as a toilet. But it bewildered me when it exceeded my expectation. It was beyond what I could portrait in mind. It was a huge bathhouse with large pool in the middle. There were also around twenty tubs for bathing and the water was clean as morning dew.


    As much as I wanted to jump in the pool, I turned the faucet to fill a tub. I flinched a bit since the water wasn''t warm. But it was summer, so I wouldn¡¯t die freezing. I wash my hair and body with soap, then use the toothbrush and let myself be immersed in this bathtub. It had been a while since my last bath. The merchant wasn¡¯t a kind man. He didn¡¯t even feed me properly.


    I stared at the high ceiling in this bathhouse. Even the bathhouse has proper roof. The owner must be a wealthy conglomerate to throw fifty gold coins just to buy me. But this was beyond his expectation. The master gave everyone bedding, personal clothing, huge bathhouse, fireplace, all that just for slaves and workers.


    ''When will they sell me again? A year? A month? A week?''


    I wasn¡¯t sure if I am enough to satisfy the lord. He had everything. He could buy a younger toy, or beautiful concubines if that was what he wanted. I might be assigned for the workers. That scared me the most. I was afraid that they''d sell me again using me over and over until after I''m tattered, permanently broken.


    I shook my head. It was no use to ponder over such inevitable fate. What he needed to do was to follow the order and did what he was assigned to.


    ''Maybe, they actually mean it. Maybe I will be assigned to the young lord.''


    It might be a wishful thinking. However, I would be more than happy to assign the young lord. The young lord that picked me at the market was a fascinating man. Though, I couldn¡¯t see him clearly, since he was fully covered. His sharp blue eyes pierced me when our eyes met and I couldn''t take my eyes off him. I thought beauty was a trait solely for few women. But he was beautiful. Beautiful might be an understatement.


    ''I wondered if the young lord would be interested in me.''


    I shook my head again and left the tub. Staying inside the bathtub might give me weird imagination. I dried myself with towel and wore the clean tunic. The sensation of clean tunic touched my skin. It was such a pleasant feeling. I went to my room to found those two guys before already sleeping soundly. I climbed one of the beds and again, immerse myself with this feeling of soft bedding.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    The last time I actually slept on a bed was sixth months ago. Before my previous owner sold me after went bankrupt. I was glad when he went bankrupt. He was such a bad master. However, my time sleeping with other slaves on a haystack, little to no food, and getting whipped. I didn''t want to experience that again.


    I close my eyes, half smiling. This was the best. The most comfortable bed I could ever sleep on.


    I woke up when the guy below me creaked the bunk bed. It might be a habit when I was on the market, I would wake up faster before the merchant whipped those who slept for too long. I climbed down from my bed, followed these two guys to the bathhouse to wash our face. So far, they had yet to speak to me. I didn''t even know their name, which one was Jean or Dirk.


    "You. What is your name?"


    I looked to my left after washing my face. One of the guys, a man shorter than me, with brown hair and stubbles on his cheek, and a scar under his chin finally asked my name. I paused a bit. I didn''t know which name he preferred, my slave name or real name.


    "Your real name," before I could answer it, the other guy, a bald man with crooked nose preferred my real name. It was a relief that they knew slave used either their real name or slave name.


    "I am Ramuja."


    "Ramuja? That''s a strange name. I''m Dirk," said the shorter man.


    "I''m Jean," said the tall one with crooked nose.


    I nodded. I never knew how to continue a conversation though. I never talked to people more than my name and which master owned me.


    "No need to be shy. Most of us are serfs here," Dirk laughed. He tapped my shoulder, "Follow us, breakfast will be ready soon."


    I tailed them to the front door. The sun was rising, but everyone had lined up to a large table with stacks of breads that could feed an entire village for a day or two. There were five maids standing behind the table. Everyone looked happy, talking and laughing. This was such a strange atmosphere for me. Everyone looked well fed, and none of them were scrawny like him.


    ''Are they really serfs?''


    That question lingered in my head. They looked healthy, happy, and none of them were pushing their way through to get some food. I wondered if there would be whip or club to hit people, but there were none. It was very strange, almost unreal to me.


    I stood behind Jean and Dirk. They talked about where would they be placed during autumn. I didn¡¯t really understand what they were talking about, but from what I heard, the lord had wheat and vineyard farm around the hill. Everyone stood silent when Anne came out from the mansion.


    "Oi, Ramuja, be careful around Anne," said Dirk.


    "She is a bad news," added Jean.


    "Bad news?"


    "Well, she is in charge of us in this area. She has control over our contract. She could throw you away from this place. She is a merciless beast."


    Dirk lowered his voice. He glanced at Anne few times, just to make sure that Anne didn¡¯t hear him.


    "Just be careful, will you?" said Jean with even lower voice.


    I nodded.


    The line started moving after Anne stood behind the table. The maids gave two pieces of palm-sized bread. The serfs then scooped the fresh drinking water with their tankards. They ate while sitting on the green grass, waiting for the dawn to end.


    I couldn''t count on how many people were here, but it took me a while until it was my turn. The maid gave me two pieces of bread, but Anne approached the maid and she suddenly became tense.


    "Give this one a new tankard and two more breads. He is the new slave of Young Lord," Anne ordered the maid.


    "Yes, ma''am."


    I ended up carrying four breads and a tankard. I was surprised my palm touched the breads. It was warm breads, warm breads for serfs. Was this a normal thing, or a special feast? I rarely ate good food unless my old masters wanted me to serve him, or during special occasion.


    I sat beside Dirk and Jean who called me. I was afraid that they''d be angry because I got more breads, but they seemed not to mind it. The warm breads filled my stomach with joy. I would love to eat this food everyday for the rest of my life. It was warm, with a bit salt that made it delicious and filling. I could shed tears just from this.


    "You, Young Lord''s slave, come here," one of the maid called me after I finished eating. I immediately stood and followed her. She led me to Anne, who stood under a tree with a cloth in her hand. She peered at me, without any mercy, she smacked me with her words.


    "Why did Young Lord pick such scrawny looking slave? Did he get into an argument with Milord and then pick random slave?" said Anne. Is this what Jean said about merciless? I felt even more nervous than before.


    She handed me the cloth she held, a blue tunic. Strangely, the tunic has a very soft, almost slippery feeling in it. Just by feeling it, I could tell it was expensive.


    "Wear this. For each day, you will be supplied with new or clean clothes. Young Lord is a very picky and clean person. He hated something dirty," said Anne.


    "Yes, Ma''am."


    Anne checked me a bit and clicked her tongue, "Go change your clothes and go to the garden at the east of the mansion. Introduce yourself to Young Lord."


    I nodded and walked straight to the hut and change my clothes. As I thought, this was such an expensive clothes, more than anything I ever wore. But I had no time pondering about this, Young Lord was waiting in the garden. Introducing myself before formal introduction might ease my tension a bit.


    I walked around the mansion until I found trail of blooming flowers. Petals that I never knew existed, colors that was strange to me, scent that tickles my nose but kept getting stronger. I followed the trail of scattered petals to the garden of ravishing flowers graced by the dawn. In the middle, a golden flower stood silent radiating the garden with its presence.


    I was left in awe.


    I approached him slowly.


    On this flowerbed, I approach a beautiful man with golden wavy hair that was hidden under a hat when I met him. He had a pale skin, as pale as untouched white linen. He wore a loose white robe that exposed his shoulder.


    As I drew near, I could picture his pink thin lips and small nose. He noticed me, as his piercing eyes met mine, a pair of deep blue eyes with mole under his left eyes. His gaze pierced me as my feet became weak, as I realize that I was hasty. I immediately kneeled. I casted my eyes down to the flowerbed under my feet as I became nervous, I never expected my new master to be like this.


    I could feel his eyes looking down on me. I wanted to introduce this servant to a new master. But my mouth felt numb, it refused to utter anything.


    "How improper, for a new servant to ignore its introduction and greeting."


    I tensed up when he talked, he sounded sharp, "I--This one is foolish, master. Pardon this one¡­"


    Before I could finish my sentence, I heard a chuckle. I looked up, and find his thin lips perked up.


    "I''m just jesting, no need to be nervous," he said. I just looked up to him. That luscious smile eased me up. I smiled without thinking. Seeing him smiling made my lips bloomed up spontaneously.


    "Yes, master."


    "My name is Aster, but you will call me Master or Young Lord anyway, right?" he said. I''m not sure if it was another joke, so I just nodded. I wanted to ask him about my slave name here, but he cut me, "Now, if you are here to accompany me. I''m afraid it''s too late, since the sun is rising already. Let''s meet again later."


    He smiled and walked to the mansion. I followed his back slowly getting further away. He entered the corridor and used the stair to the tower. Even after his back vanished out of my sight, my eyes still lingered to the tower he went to.


    There is a realization that finally sprouted inside my mind after minutes of awe and bewilderment.


    ''My new master is such a beautiful man.''


    The graceful one awaken me from deep slumber


    Led by the path of flower


    and I fell like a timber


    The prince smiled at me, in this breeze of summer


    In this flowerbed I kneeled


    So for me to see you smiled


    So for you to see me graced


    In this flowerbed, I turned fever red

 His name

    Aster shook his head. Something must''ve gone awry with his mind. He climbed the staircase quicker than usual, as his mind producing weird thought. He locked his room after he dismissed the maid.


    He finally met his new servant. He thought he could act indifferent, just like what he did to everyone. But when their eyes met, he couldn¡¯t help but his nerves started tingling and he felt agitated for unknown reason. He knew he could stay for at least an hour more in the garden before the sun started hurting, but he cut it short because he was strangely nervous.


    When he saw that servant''s gaze, he felt numb, as if he couldn¡¯t move his eyes out of that numbness.


    "Maybe because I rarely talk to anyone new, that must be it," he said to himself. He must''ve gone crazy for talking to no one.


    Aster took a deep breath. He needed to clear his head with bath. The maid had prepared his bathtub with sandalwood extract as fragrance, just like what he ordered for the butler to purchase during yearly market yesterday. He took off his loose robe and walked to his bathroom.


    The smell of the sandalwood tingled his nose. He clenched his teeth as he entered the cold bathtub. This was his daily activity during spring and summer, especially summer. The heat is unbearable and his skin will burn even if he is inside the mansion. He took a deep breath, and then released it as he cleared his mind. He was strangely bewildered for no reason.


    Aster''s morning bath was never long, he hated cold bath, but he preferred having this every morning rather than dying because of the heat. After awhile, he took the bath towel and dried himself with it.


    The maid had prepared his apparel today. A blue sleeveless doublet and white tunic made from silk, there were also a girdle and pants made from the same material as the tunic. He wore it like usual, since he had thinner body frame, he fitted in most clothing without any problem. He wished for bigger body though.


    Aster applied a bit of perfume, combed his wavy hair and finally went to the dining hall for breakfast. He met few maids and butlers along the way to the dining hall, they bowed their head but Aster ignored them like usual. It was usual for him to do it. It was what Sir Douglass taught him about manner.


    You shall not be affectionate to servants. You shall not be abusive to servants.


    That was what Sir Douglass taught him before about servants.


    He went straight to the dining hall, his dad was out in the morning to do his job, but his mom always waited him in the dining hall for breakfast.


    "Good morning, mother," Aster said. He sat directly facing his mom and wipes his hand with a kerchief before touching the silverware.


    "Good morning, my DEAR son," she started the day with such pressing tone. She put emphasis on that word, as if it was a big problem. "It seems like you have yet to love your mom. It''s been five years since the last time you called me mom, don¡¯t you think it is vile."


    Aster sighed in his heart. This was not the first time she talked nonsense. She kept insisting on such trivial matter, what was the difference of calling her mom or mother. "It''s not a problem, dear mother."


    "I forbid you to raise the fork until you called me mom."


    "Mother, that''s ridicu--"


    "Mom."


    "But, mother, I--"


    "Mom."


    "Mothe--"


    "Mom."


    Aster brows twitched, his mother was surely a strange one. He just didn''t call her mom anymore because it was weird after he found out about how his cousins, Charles and Rosalie called their parents. He still referred his father as dad, but that was because his dad knew the boundaries of intimacy in front of the public.


    But his mom, she just called me ''Dear Aster'' or ''Dear son'' in front of everyone, even on formal parties.


    "Yes, mom." Aster said, almost whispering.


    "Ah, my dear, beautiful son finally called me mom," mom''s stern voice disappeared. She squealed and started randomly rambling, almost like Rosalie when she saw that young marquis of the Viete house. Mom''s face brightened up and her famed looks finally showing.


    She was the famous noble woman holding the title of ''Golden Camellia''. Aster always heard people calling him the second Golden Camellia because most of his facial feature inherited from his mother.


    She had a bright golden wavy hair, which shone under the sun. Her eyes were almond shaped, with bright blue eyes with pure black pupil, and golden ring circling around the pupil, the trademark of Royal Family. Her features were exactly the same with him, small nose, thin lips and delicate eyebrows. The only difference was their eyes shape.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Aw, my lovely son, don¡¯t glare at your mom," Mother giggled, then her giggle stopped and the trace of loveliness vanished, "It is annoying that your eyes resemble your father''s more."


    Aster stopped chewing for a mere second, his nape shivered. He was yet accustomed with his mother''s behavior throughout the years. He could take it as a joke, but the she sounded hostile enough for him to feel nervous. As if she actually hated it.


    Aster ate in silence, while his mother kept talking to him. They finished after a while, and one of the butler approached them, "Milady, will this be the proper time to introduce Young Lord''s personal servant?"


    Mother''s smiling eyes vanished when she looked at the butler, "Yes, bring him here, check whether he is clean or not."


    The butler returned with a boy behind him, his head lowered, he walked funny, maybe because nervousness. He wore a knee-length, blue silk tunic and a loose black pants. He kneeled when the butler stopped, eyes still casted down and his breathing became heavier. The butler excused himself and silence went for a while. Aster glanced at his mother, her eyes showed displeasure, but it was understandable. Aster knew his mother always has this eye to everyone but him and dad.


    "You. How old are you?" asked mother. She spoke as if she would chew this new servant, Aster sighed at his heart. This wouldn¡¯t end well. The boy opened his mouth, but no voice came, his fingers slightly raised up and down. Before mother lost her composure, he finally spoke.


    "T--This servant, um¡­ sixteen years old, your excellency."


    Aster chuckled.


    ''I thought he was mute. Was he counting his own age?''


    "I know what kind of servant you are. Shed your previous identity, you''re not going to serve my son for his pleasure," said mother. Her face grew even more displeased. "You''re filthy, but because my son favors you, then I will allow you. You shall not touch him, don''t get too close to him, as he might contact unknown illness from you. Understand?"


    Aster gulped. No touching? Not even speaking closer? Then what was the difference between personal servant and regular butler they had?


    "Mom, Isn''t it excessive?"


    "What do you mean excessive, dear son," Mother shifted her attention to Aster, "I merely instruct him not to harm you with filth. You''re a precious gem to me, I don¡¯t want the shine of my gem dimmed because there is a dirty coal beside him."


    "This servant understand, your excellency," a faint voice stopped Aster''s protest. The boy dare not to raise his head, but answered without uncertainty. Aster sighed. He thought he could finally be closer to someone, but that didn''t seem to be the case here.


    "Good. About your new name, let Young Lord give it to you," Mother stood from the chair and left Aster and his new servant with few maids cleaning the table. Awkward silence passed with the boy still kneeling, dare not to look at Aster''s eye.


    "What is your previous name?" asked Aster.


    "This servant was named¡­" the boy seemed uncomfortable. He paused, seemingly waiting for Aster to interrupt him, but Aster sat silently, "¡­ Slut. This servant was named Slut by the previous master, Young Lord."


    The sound of falling utensils, followed by collected gasps filled the dining hall. The maids apologize to Aster before scattered from the dining table, leaving Aster and his new servant alone. Aster did not budge, he observed the boy and then said, "What is your original name?"


    "Original name?" the boy paused, "Pardon this one''s ignorance. This servant does not understand, Young Lord."


    "Your name, before you were sold as slave," said Aster lightly. Despite his young age, he was an overseer of few gardens and business, employing slaves and commoners to work diligently. He hated giving name, thus, he would order them to use their real name, as it was more proper.


    Again, the boy stayed silence, until he muttered, "Ramuja. This servant''s original name is Ramuja, Young Lord."


    "Then, your name is Ramuja now."


    Aster stood after giving, or returning, his new servant''s real name. He walked out of the dining hall, as he had class with Sir Douglass soon. Before he walked to the corridor, his new servant finally talked, but his voice slightly trembled, "This--This servant is truly grateful, thank you for your grace, Young Lord."


    Aster nodded and walked through the corridor quicker than before. His face was slightly red. He thought he looked cool and majestic in front of his new servant. Such manner would definitely make his new servant admire him, and then wanting to be his friend, just like other noble kids. Finally, for the first time, he felt grateful that Sir Douglass taught him on how to act as a Young Lord. He was afraid that his act would make his new servant scared, but that didn''t seem to be the case. Aster left out a small chuckle.


    ''Ramuja. That''s unique.''


    Aster''s mind pondered, as he thought about his new servant. He looked timid. Although their height was similar, the new servant has slightly larger build despite being a slave. He also wondered about his new servant''s previous name. The maid was surprised upon hearing his name, was it shocking?


    Aster sat in study room, waiting for Sir Douglass, as he ought to arrive fifteen minutes from now. Aster wouldn''t dare to come late at Sir Douglass'' classes. Sir Douglass would file complaint that he was tardy to dad, and then they would scold him together, and add an extra homework to do.


    "Good morning, Young Lord," Sir Douglass entered the room. He was a middle-aged man, around the same age as his dad. He was well dressed with suit, Wrinkled, but clean-shaven, black hair with strands of white combed with wax and pair downturned hazel eyes. He always looked indifferent and serious, only with Aster and his dad he''d sometimes smiled.


    Aster replied his greeting before they started English literature class. Although it was a literature class, it was similar to discussion regarding literature and other things. This was the reason why Aster liked the class, since it was far more relaxed than other classes he attended.


    "Young Lord, have you read a new book?" Sir Douglass inquired about his weekly progress.


    "Yes. I am currently reading ''Eulogy of the Prince'', written by my predecessor."


    Sir Douglass fell silence for few seconds, then he said: "Yes, Young Lord. Shall we have a discussion about it?"


    Aster nodded, but before they started he wanted to ask about his new servant. "Sir, may I ask you a question?"


    Seeing Sir Douglass smiled and nodded, Aster asked:


    "What is slut?"

 Eulogy of the Prince 2

    Young Lord left the room after giving me a new name. No, returning my real identity.


    ''Ramuja.''


    It was strange. Since the first time I became a slave, I had given names, sometimes number, I was called ''Eight'' as I was the eighth boy entered that old master''s chamber. I was ''Coal'', as my skin gradually become darker than my original brown complexion. I was ''Dumpster'', because it was my identity as reliever for the workers. Then, I was ''Slut'', personal name that my previous master gave before I was sold again.


    Now I am Ramuja. The real name my parents gave me before I was sold onto that ship.


    My chest felt stuffy. Joy and resentment filled my mind, unable to blend. I was well prepared for another given names, because my identity was a pleasure slave. I didn''t mind another wretched name, and I didn''t mind ''Slut'', ''Dumpster'', ''Bitch'' or anything at all. But I was not prepared for ''Ramuja''.


    "How long will you kneel here," a tip of black shoe lightly nudge my hand, I looked up and see the butler who took me in earlier. Just like everyone else, his face showed displeasure, "Go follow Young Lord. Young Lord''s classroom is at the end of the corridor."


    After giving me an instruction, he turned his back, took a handkerchief and wiped the tip of his shoe. I walked out of the dining hall, and followed the corridor to Young Lord''s class. The corridor got narrower until I saw a single door at the end of the corridor.


    I almost knocked the door, but I heard chatter inside the room. Young Lord was in his study right now. So, I stood silent in the corridor, waiting until Young Lord finished his class and gave me a task.


    I faintly heard Young Lord speaking with someone called ''Sir Douglass'' inside. I know it was audacious for a slave to eavesdrop his master''s matter. But hearing Young Lord being relaxed eased me. The image of him smiling in the garden appeared in my eyes.


    His shining golden hair, deep eyes and thin lips smiled to me. It was beautiful. Unconsciously, my lips curled up. I closed my eyes, while eavesdropping, I Imagined Young Lord talked to me with nonchalant attitude and smiled.


    "What is slut?"


    I opened my eyes immediately, the beautiful image dissipate as I heard the question Young Lord just asked.


    "Young Lord, that-- where did you know that word?"


    "My new servant, ''Slut'' was his previous name. The maid was stupefied when they heard it. Was it something unpleasant?"


    I felt chill stroked my body. I thought Young Lord knew my identity and decided to accept me. I thought my previous name was no big matter for him. So, I was happy when he took me from the slave trader.


    I gulped, my throat felt dry suddenly.


    ''Will I be returned to that despicable merchant?''


    Image of me sitting in a dirty cart with other starved slaves, waiting months until someone took me, used me and then left me alone until I was half-dead flashed through my mind. I swallowed my saliva again and again to no avail. My breathing grew heavier; it felt suffocating even in this luxurious castle.


    "It is something unpleasant, Young Lord," The teacher called Sir Douglass finally spoke after stayed silence a while ago. I closed my eyes and rubbed the cold sweat in my palm.


    "It is¡­ a humiliating word to call someone, an insult commoner had created. It--It is certainly not a word for you to fuss about, Young Lord."


    "I see¡­" Young Lord was about to continue asking before Sir Douglass quickly switched the topic. I took a deep breath. I thought Sir Douglass would outright tell Young Lord about the meaning of my previous name. It was relieving to know that I wouldn''t be kicked sooner than I predicted.


    However, as I waited for Young Lord, I couldn''t create the image of him nonchalantly spoke to me and smiled brightly in my mind any longer. The light smile in my face turned into bitter smile. Because I realized, that imagination would shatter if Young Lord knew my identity.


    The door opened after 2 hours, I straightened my posture when I saw Young Lord opened the door. He was surprised when I stood in front of him. I kneeled, "This servant is waiting for order, Young Lord."


    "Follow me." Said Young Lord.


    I was surprised on how indifferent his tone was. He was eager and chuckling inside the classroom, why did he suddenly become cold? I gulped once again, and then followed him from behind.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    He was few centimeters shorter than me, smaller frame, and his golden hair waved whenever he moved. He smelled like sandalwood, and when I drew closer, I could smell a sweet aroma from his hair, like flower nectar. Which intoxicated me even further.


    ''Young Lord smells sweet.''


    I shook my head before my mind went too far. Young Lord would feel disgusted if he could read my mind.


    We walked in silence to the east tower, the one where Young Lord climbed the stairs this morning. I silently followed him in this spiral staircase until we reached the peak of the east tower. A maid stood still in front of a door. She was surprised when she saw me, but looked away and opened the door for Young Lord.


    As I entered the room, the maid closed the door and I felt a familiar feeling of me doing my job again. This situation, private room, closed door, alone with Young Lord¡­


    It was not my first time. I had lost count on how many times I did it. But I felt strangely nervous


    "Young Lord, May I ask--"


    "Silence." He cut me short and I fell silent. I watched his image seeped to my eyes. He hadn''t moved a finger. He just stared at the flower garden outside, where we met this morning. The strange thought in my head slowly dissipated, replaced by Young Lord''s piercing eyes. He looked sad and then he closed his eyes.


    He dozed off not long after.


    ''Eh, sleeping? What is the point of taking me here then?''


    ''Was Young Lord always this oblivious? Did he really not realize my true nature?''


    If Young Lord bought me as regular slave, then I would not need to serve his urges. The idea of me not used as pleasure slave excited me. If I became a regular slave, that meant I would be able to stay until I got old. So long I had a place to stay, even as labor slave, it would be the best reward for me.


    "Mmm¡­" the sound of Young Lord''s mumble was funny. Tempted by the sight of Young Lord sleeping, I carefully approached him. My eyes were locked in his beautiful face, his long eyelashes fluttered and his bright golden hair waved as the summer breeze passed the balcony. I didn''t dare to touch his skin, but watching him sleeping made me content.


    ''Young Lord really is a gorgeous man.''


    I remembered the appearance of the Grand Duchess. Young Lord was really an exact replica of his mother. However, Young Lord''s eyes were deep and piercing, like his dad that I saw yesterday. I didn''t found it scary. I preferred his eye rather than Duchess''. Because Duchess had a condescending gaze on everyone, including me. It felt like her eyes stabbed my guts, crippled my strength, forcing me to kneel in front of her.


    While Young Lord''s gaze, while sharp and indifferent, it always had a calm aura in it. It was as if I was seeing a blue moon on a dark sky. When I was caught within his deep eyes, I was instantly drawn and enticed. I wanted to draw closer to submerge into his deep eyes. If Duchess'' gaze cut your guts and made you kneel. Young Lord''s made you submit not by force, but by devotion of intoxication.


    I locked my gaze to Young Lord and waited for hours without moving an inch until his eyelashes trembled. I took few steps back and looked straight to the balcony. If Young Lord realized that I''ve been watching him like this, I could lose my head right now.


    Young Lord yawned, stretched his body before turned his head on me. He looked indifferent for few seconds before he suddenly taken aback.


    "Were you here when I was asleep?" asked Young Lord. He lost his composure. For once, his eyes widened and the sharpness vanished, turned his eyes into such a big eye, much like a puppy.


    I chuckled at heart, but answered with a slight nod, "Yes, Young Lord."


    Young Lord expression was funny. He looked stupefied, and then his face became beet red. He opened his mouth, but pursed his lips before saying anything. He turned away and said; "You can go now."


    He resumed his usual indifference in his word. I wanted to giggle. If this was the way on how Young Lord showed his dominance, then he failed miserably.


    "Pardon me, Young Lord. But what should this servant do next?"


    "I allowed you to study the mansion," said Young Lord. He took a silver bell and ringed it.


    "Yes, Young Lord." The maid who guarded the door entered the room. She glanced at me with disdain, but said nothing.


    "Christie, take this servant of mine to a butler. He needs to know the mansion," ordered Young Lord. The maid, Christie nodded and permitted herself out. "Pardon this servant, Young Lord."


    I turned my back, following the maid before my step was stopped by a hurried call from my behind, "You--"


    I turned again and smiled at Young Lord, "Yes, Young Lord."


    "Tomorrow, I ordered you to accompany me from the dawn. I expect you to come earlier," Young lord''s voice got softer and his face turned beet red again, "Wait for me in the east garden."


    "This servant will wait you in the garden before dawn Young Lord," I replied, then excused myself.


    I couldn''t hold my smile. Young Lord was very cute. His beet red face hinted embarrassment that completely erased his supposedly domineering attitude. His stupefied look replaced his cold, indifference attitude when I saw him before. I was more than satisfied to know that Young Lord was not a ruthless man. It was enough to ensure my safety for now, at least.


    He even asked me to accompany him to the garden tomorrow morning. I had his favor already, wasn¡¯t it more than enough?


    I followed the maid who passed me over to a butler. Although the butler also showed contempt, he did not say anything degrading. He did his job strolling me around and giving explanation on what was inside the mansion.


    The sun was setting when the butler finished touring me around. We stopped at the east garden where I met young Lord today. The waft of various flowers swayed me as I remembered the smell of Young Lord''s hair. It was similar to this garden, fresh, sweet, but not overly sweet that would disgust you. I closed my eyes, imagining the presence of Young Lord here. But, before I imagined even further, I shook my head and slap my own cheek.


    ''No, this is wrong. I shouldn''t get myself charmed.''


    I slap my cheek again. I realized on how deadly Young Lord could charm me just with two meetings. However, having Young Lord''s favor as personal servant and not being disposed was more than enough. I shouldn''t chase over the moon.


    I scurried to the barrack, as the dinnertime for the serfs was about to start. I need to eat, rest and woke up early tomorrow. Since Young Lord expected me to come earlier to the garden.


    My lips twitched and I curled up a bit. Imagining Young Lord standing on the garden made me somewhat happy.


    As the moon glinted on the sky


    A night felt like days


    Essence of impatience slowly formed


    And I, we, waited