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“My Grandfather was innocent," snapped Roth.
Fuck. Why hadn't he kept his mouth shut? Oriel kept quiet as he focused his eyes on the floor, although he could feel Roth’s gaze burning into his. “How is it fair that Grandfather died all because someone woman gladly fucked him and then cried rape? Hmm?”
That wasn’t what happened. She was dead and couldn’t have said anything. Lord Delwin must have heard the details from King Leneer, but he and his son refused to believe it.
“Well?” Roth grabbed his hair.
“That isn't fair, Master,” said Oriel.
Roth made a faint noise at the words. “Stand there and drink your water. I’ll feed you when we go outside. You can walk now because I don’t feel like waiting for you to crawl after me.”
Oriel snatched the cup as soon as Roth turned away just in case he changed his mind about it. Go outside? He was fucking naked, but no one gave a shit about that, of course. His belly felt off after he finished the drink since it was empty besides the liquid.
He didn’t dare move from the sideboard even after he set down the cup. The glass jug was beyond tempting, and he imagined shattering that over Roth’s head. How satisfying that would be. Then he remembered the guard outside the door.
Roth returned in a vest and was doing the buttons on his green coat. The cane was tucked under his arm, and Oriel knew he wouldn’t hesitate to use that in public. He couldn’t slip up again.
“Come on.” Roth attached the lead to his collar. “Stay two steps behind me, and remember your place, traitor’s son.”
Anger sparked in Oriel’s chest at those words. How many times would he hear that title and know that whoever looked at him thought he and his dead family were scum? How far would that lie spread? Probably far beyond Meadow Kingdom.
“I wish my Father had gone with King Taven,” Roth said as he led Oriel into the hallway. "Maybe if he’d fought alongside him, he would have acquired another chunk of land.”
Lords always wanted more. Oriel felt his face burning with pure shame when they passed other people. He didn’t stare, but a few others had red hair too and seemed faintly similar, although nobody had hair as vivid as Roth’s. Red was a bit rare among fairies, but it seemed this family kept passing it down.
Oriel had heard that the Delwin family was quite large, although most of them had no real power. While many probably had their own businesses and such, these were probably like leeches to the lord too since he made much income from Calatan. Earls always had other places too.
Most seemed quite interested in Oriel as if Roth was walking some exotic creature from a faraway land. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone and strode like he had somewhere important to be. Oriel kept up even though he was tired, and he wished he could eat something.
The warm sun outside didn’t give him any joy as Roth led him through a garden on a neat stone pathway. The manicured bushes and neat flower beds were bright with color, and a few birds twittered here and there. A chuckle chickie giggled as it flew by.
He dared to glance over his shoulder at the Castle itself which was made from stones with a faint silver hue. He imagined his own home which was probably horribly trashed.
Where were the bodies of his family? He pictured his parents and two brothers tossed in a common grave or left out like trash to rot, and his throat tightened.
Roth took him to a gazebo that had been set up for lunch. Little white clothes covered the glasses, and silver domes protected the plates and platters.
“On your knees.” Roth snapped his fingers like his new slave was a dog. “Good boy.” He sat at the table and reached over. Something clinked while Oriel stared at the smooth floorboards and tried not to think of his family. “Eat, you skinny thing.”
The triangle of bread smeared with norben looked like a four-course meal after over a week of nothing but water, dry bread, and sometimes nothing. His last decent meal, which had been on the night King Taven betrayed them, felt like a century ago. Oriel reached for it, but Roth held it higher.
“Keep your hands down. I bet if I give you this, you’ll stuff it down in a second, and I’m not having my new pet barf all over because you upset your stomach. You'll take small bites or get nothing.”
He thought Roth would drop it on the ground and make him eat it like that. It would be slower if he couldn’t use his hands. Instead, Roth held the bread in front of his face and stroked his hair.
“Eat up, pet. Chew it well.”
Somehow, eating from his hand seemed even worse, but the food could be taken away quite quickly. Oriel glanced at the end of the cane sticking out from the table’s edge and leaned forward a little to take a bite even though his face burned.
“Good boy,” Roth murmured.
The rich norben was far better than butter and so delicious, Oriel almost forgot his shame for a moment, although he forced himself to chew slowly. Roth was right about one thing since he didn’t want to throw up after being half-starved. Maybe if he obeyed, he’d get a little more food too.
The tip of Roth’s tail kept flicking on his back, although it didn’t go near the brands. Oriel always wanted touch before and craved it more than sex even, but Roth’s touch disgusted him even when another triangle of bread was held out.
Roth had to be sick in his head if he was fine with having a slave to abuse, especially after it being such a new thing.
Roth gave him a few pieces of grilled chicken too. Oriel’s stomach was already strangely full by the time he heard voices coming. He would have eaten three times that amount before and not thought twice about it.
