Phaulkin woke alone. He sat up quickly and his eyes darted around the room for the redhead that had fallen asleep at his side the night before. He quickly got out of bed and dressed then hurried out of his room.
As soon as he entered the hallway, he found the slave-boy Phox had given him curled in a ball next to the door, fast asleep.
Phaulkin bent down and gently shook the boy’s shoulder. Wide green eyes shot open. They focused on Phaulkin and he jumped.
“Wha?”
Phaulkin frowned at the odd response, “Why are you sleeping in the hallway?”
“Took a walk,” murmured the boy sleepily, “F’rgot the door was locked from the inside…”
“You didn’t get in trouble with the overseer, did you?”
Snickering, the red head stood up, “No, I took care o’ him.”
Phaulkin gave him a questioning look. The boy just smiled at him.
“You should get ready for the day,” Phaulkin said quietly, “Go bathe and dress then meet me in the library. If anyone asks of you, just tell them you have my permission to be unsupervised in the halls. They should leave you alone and if they don’t, bring them to me.”
Xan nodded and went into the room, wondering why the palace had a bath house as well as private bathing rooms. It didn’t really make much sense to him.
He loved Phaulkin’s bathroom. It had the same theme as the bedroom, deep navy walls with leaves all over the ceiling, but instead of paint, the walls were a dark navy tile with tiled mosaic leaves covering the ceiling and falling down the walls to wrap the entire room in a lagoon-like feeling. The lights were like tiny chandeliers and were the color of fireflies. The sink was wrapped in synthetic vines with a pearly sky blue marble in the basin and molded silver leaves for handles and the faucet as well. The same was true for the large tub in the room, wrapped in vines and marble inside with the same ornate handles.
Xan loved Phaulkin’s bathroom.
He filled the tub and nervously stripped off his clothing, hoping that Phox would not decide that now would be a good time for one of his obnoxious visits.
The heaters in the tub kept the treated water the perfect temperature while additives pulled the dirt away from his skin and trapped it in microscopic so he was not sitting in a pool of his own filth. Maybe technology had a few advances, but some days Xan just liked the feeling of dirt on his skin.
He soaked for what felt like hours, but in actuality was no where near that long.
And he thought about sex.
It seemed that sex with Phaulkin was inevitable. It was his reason for being kept here. It was why there was a roof over his head, food in his stomach, and clothes on his back. He could tell by the way Phaulkin looked at him that he desired sex. Xan was unsure of whether or not that was what he wanted.
Phaulkin was very attractive, there was no doubt of that, but Xan wasn’t sure if that was enough. Physical attraction seemed to be a strong enough basis to have sex with someone here, but it was quite different of Fayela. People married young there, so there weren’t a lot of problems with out of marriage pregnancies. Everyone was already married by their sexual prime and often times if someone showed interest, they were married within the month. Sex was reserved specifically for marriage and nothing else. The fact that sex was something only seen as a ritual or a pleasure of the flesh here was more foreign to him than anything he’d come in contact with so far.
By all means, Xan should have been married years ago, but no one had ever shown interest in him so his parents just told him to wait until the right time came. They were strong believers in soul mates and claimed that his just hadn’t come to find him yet.
Maybe he just didn’t have a soul mate. Maybe his destiny was to be a whore of a prince before becoming another forgotten casualty of a pointless war.
But enough of that line of thought, back to the sex. Xan was finding that he strongly desired to have sex with Phaulkin, if only on a physical level, more so than he ever thought he would. His body had never been enticed by anyone the way it was when Phaulkin was around. He blood ran hotter and his clothes felt wrong against his skin. Ever touch from Phaulkin was like a rocket shooting through his system.
This had to stop. He was a Fayelian, a soldier at that. He was stronger than to be seduced by a man. He could control his body. Just because it desired the Mengapor prince did not mean he had to give in. Everyone he’d come in contact with had said that Phaulkin would not rape him. If he just kept saying no, he could die with his dignity, as well as his virginity, intact.
It was so… frustrating! He knew he wanted it, knew he craved to have that physical contact he’d only heard or read about in little detail, but he knew it was wrong. It was so, so wrong. It went against everything he’d grown up to believe. Men weren’t supposed to sleep with each other. People outside of wedlock were not supposed to sleep with each other. He was not supposed to want this so deeply.
He wanted to scream.
A harsh knock on the bathroom door interrupted his thought processes and he froze, “Yes?”
“Master Phaulkin has sent me with your clothing for the day.” He barely registered the timid voice of one of the many young slave girls. “I shall leave it on the bed.”
“Thank you,” Xan replied and submersed his head under the still steaming water. He felt like a potato his mother would boil before mashing. He was being cooked and then he would be pummeled. Whether that would be literally or figuratively depended entirely on what kind of day it was going to be here at the Mengapor Palace.