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Salas had smiled knowingly, stretching his neck and bowing his body in a way he knew Eldron appreciated. “Why should I learn a thing when you take so much pleasure in instructing me? The other day, when I asked you if bees made love to flowers, well...you liked that lesson quite a bit.”
“Sit up, you ridiculous little thing. I don’t believe you’re as much of a lost cause as you suggest.”
And the Eldron had been right. Slowly but surely, Salas became culturally versed in all things Susconian. His understanding of the workings of the world around him had improved to the point where he was relaying new curious information to Eldron that he’d learned from Jovack, who often visited Salas to provide additional lessons. Though that was not the only thing they did within each other’s company. Jovack, as the Emperor had put it, ‘had become hooked on Salas.’
As had a few of the guards and some others who knew of Salas’ existence.
Salas decided he liked having others want him. They brought him figs and handed him flowers through the garden window, and he couldn’t find a reason to argue with any of it. The strange feeling he received after intimacy continued to arise, but he discovered tactics to ignore it and instead used the attraction others felt towards him, as he had learned to do with the Emperor.
As for the Emperor, he did not seem to mind the transgressions whatsoever. In fact, on the occasions where he had been present, he often encouraged soldiers, in the act, to press Salas against the wall and ravish him. As the meeting with Jovack had proven, Eldron liked to watch.
Though Emperor Eldron had kept Salas away in the garden room, Salas felt no malice towards the man. He knew that Eldron wanted him to be deemed ready enough to venture out and claim a spot amongst the court, almost as much as Salas did. In that sense, the two were partners working towards the same goal.
Eventually, it happened. Salas had met other birds for the first time as they rushed into his quarters with instructions to prepare him. He’d been introduced to the court at the evening feast. The first stories of Salas had emerged from the table that night.
The Emperor has his own bird? I heard his mother was fae.
No, I daresay his mother was a prostitute; sold her son to the slavetrade before the poor thing was rescued by palace guards.
Is it true that he was kept in the garden for several years?
Salas felt a small thrill upon hearing each and every rumor. He reveled in them, the attention and praise. When he caught an earful of the particularly more elaborate stories, he playfully provided false details in what was obviously a satirical tale, and it had earned him laughter and good-natured smiles. The court warmed to him immediately.
It was then that Salas knew that if he were to live forever, he wanted to live exactly like this. He could stand catering to the whims of the Emperor, the slick between his thighs at night, the heat of other men, as long as he got to keep these eyes upon him, the gold on his limbs, and the sandy marble floors.
Chapter Two
Silken streamers of deep green and white hung from the ceiling in the Great Hall, decorations to honor the occasion. The party guests would arrive soon, just when the sun dipped. With the stretch of the summer days, it was taking its time to lower into the western sea, the breeze of which still reached the palace despite the castle being a bit away from the shoreline.
Bed birds scooped pale lily petals from bowls and dusted them onto one of the dining tables that had already been draped in linens. They spoke as they worked, sharing stories of their mornings, giggling as they chatted. Smiling.
The smiles had not always fit on their faces.
When Salas had first arrived at the palace ten years ago, the mood among the birds had been haunted and sour. When Salas was free to finally roam about, he had avoided the other birds for the odd, awful sensation they brought to him, seeing their depressing figures lurking about like ghosts ready to crumble at the slightest push of wind. He realized quickly that he was not like them. His position, being the Emperor’spersonalbird, was different: he was not ordered about by the other palace staff or by the gentry who lived in the palace. He was not given servile tasks such as cleaning or decorating. Hedidservice other men and the occasional woman, when it was requested, but members of the court did not drag him from a room and demand it from him. And at the end of the day, Salas did not retreat to claim a cushion in the harem hall and fall asleep with that strange look they had in their eyes.
Salas had asked about the feeling they provoked, once, to the Emperor. The man had brushed off his inquiries, claiming the heat had the birds feeling down.
“It’s fall,” Salas had said.
“Finish your painting. You’ve been practicing and you almost have talent. Almost,” the Emperor had said.
So Salas had asked Jovack about the other birds and his discomfort around them.
“Guilt,” the statesman had said. “You probably feel guilty that you seemingly maintain autonomy, while they do not.”
Salas had frowned. “I do not understand. Why do they not ask for it? Why isn’t it given to them?”
The statesman had laughed and petted Salas fondly. “You never fail to amuse me, Salas. Why does one not free a slave? Well, that would very well defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”
“Slave?” Salas had asked.
It was then that Salas had learned what it meant to have a lack of freedom, to be taken, held captive. He’d thought about his room by the garden.
He went to the Emperor shortly after his revelation. He’d asked for the slaves to be free. When Eldron seemed ready to shut the conversation down, Salas had been ready. He had come prepared.
“Listen, my love,” Salas had crooned, sitting in the old man’s lap and fitting his head into the crook of his neck so his nose brushed the bristled, wrinkled skin. “It is not such a radical step as you would think. Give them a chance to be free, to return home if they wish it, and they will praise you for it. They will fall to their feet. Give them a reward for their time and service, a payment of gold, and you will earn their devotion. Many will choose to stay. Contract them for a ten year time period, allow them to agree or disagree to it, and at the end, they can return home to their families with what they have rightfully earned.”
This time, the Emperor had pondered the idea, thinking it over carefully.
