Slave of Froize: A Froize Trilogy Novel Read online

"Would we have a protocol of sorts? How will I know if it’s ok to address you in such a manner?"

  His face perked up as if he expected me to refuse him flat out.

  "Yes, I would express to you the ability for you to speak frankly with me, anything that was said after that time, and until I tell you to adopt a more formal tone will not be held against you."

  "Ok." I sat up in the hard cot, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "I am assuming this would be a private matter?"

  "Yes, no one should hear us speak in this manner."

  "Ok, I can abide by this, my lord."

  "Good. Good." He looked away, again that unsure look crossed his face. "Let's start now. Why did you jump in front of the arrow that was meant for me, and put you here?"

  "Honestly, as I said before, it was reflex. I don't know you very well, but from what I had seen at that time, you are a fair man. It just seemed like the right thing to do." I shrugged waiting for the next question.

  "Why have you never tried to escape? Your room door is not locked, and there are no guards."

  I smiled; he was right. I had never attempted to escape, I knew better. "The castle is nestled on an island, with ragged edges, blackened forests, and unforgiving waters all around. If I were to make it, where would I go? I will never be happy here, but I am smart enough to know that I won't make it out there."

  He nodded, "You are correct. I don't know how many slaves we have caught trying to flee only to be caught in the wilderness of the island."

  I waited for the next question.

  "I need my aides to be healthy, and it has just come to me that maybe I am not treating you the correct way to keep you in optimum health. It has been so long since I had to worry about the everyday human affairs I am afraid-"

  "How long?" I asked, intrigued by this revelation.

  "Pardon me?"

  "How long since you were human?"

  "Ahh, well, it has been over twelve thousand years. I only count each centennial but I did pass my first millennia, that was at least two hundred and fifty years ago."

  "Holy shit!" I mumbled in awe that someone in his shape was so old.

  He laughed, a sound I’d never heard. "Back to what I was trying to ask, what can I do to make sure you are healthy or at least give you a better chance. According to Priam, this wound must have been causing you terrible agony, and it was not properly looked after."

  "Milord, that is difficult to answer. My needs may conflict with yours."

  "Well, tell me them, and I will concede those I feel necessary. Somethings you will have to just do without, but if I am aware, I can at least make an attempt." Now he was the one shrugging.

  "Ok, starters, I need to eat more than you. At the moment, I am only eating maybe once a day when I can steal a moment to get to the kitchen for whatever scraps they have. Secondly, I need to sleep. At least eight uninterrupted hours. I also need access to medical supplies." I stopped, not wanting to overload him,

  "I see." He stood and walked toward the door. He turned back and walked toward me. "I don't want to have to wait for you. If I had a servant bring three meals a day to your room, would that suffice?"

  "Yes, that would be fine." Is he agreeing to this?

  "As for the sleep, I can give you five uninterrupted, normally. If there is an emergency, I will wake you."

  "Yes, my lord."

  "As for the medical supplies, I'd rather you not have access to them, but I will allow you to go to Priam when you need to. I don't want you waiting until you are on death's door before you say something." He looked at me, square in the eye. "Is that understood?"

  "Yes." He had pretty much given me everything I wanted. "What’s happening with the Makins?"

  "Do you care?" He squinted at me, unsure if I meant what I was asking.

  "Yes, I would like to know if we are going to be under attack, as I do live here. Gotta know when to duck and cover." I smiled broadly at him. He didn't respond.

  "We are on full alert, but we haven't seen any more intruders. Everyone is prepped and ready in case we do have to fight. Any suggestions?" He asked while cocking his head to the side.

  "I would put some guards down near the slave quarters. That’s where they came from before."

  "Done."

  "Good." I couldn't believe he was listening to me, but I’m glad he was.

  "How long have you been here?" he asked. What a strange question. This had nothing to do with us living in the same space or even keeping me healthy; this question was for personal knowledge.

  "I have been here my whole life it seems. Since I was seven, I believe. I forget." I looked at him sideways, trying to see if this line of questioning was going somewhere.

  "Do you think the slaves will revolt?"

  Wow, this line of questioning was so random.

  "Um, probably. We live in below standard conditions, we don't eat much, and we have nothing to lose but our lives. The way things are headed, we’re going to lose that anyway." I said frankly.

  "I see." He moved back toward the door, clearly pensive.

  I winced a little when I tried to take a deep breath, and he saw. The anger on his face was evident. "I thought we had a deal?"

  "We do, I was just about to tell you I could use a bit of rest, but I was too intrigued by your line of questioning."

  "There will be more, hurry up and get better." He huffed and started to walk to the door.

  "Of course, heavens forbid you would have to fold your clothing," I smirked, this was the test.

  He turned his head back toward me, just one side, the dimple clear as day. "Let us resume our usual manners. Until we speak again, slave."

  "Yes, my lord." He didn't punish me.

  I closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me again.

  ***

  Four more days in the medical wing. Priam spent extra time with me, paying close attention to my needs, almost like someone had given him direct order to make sure I needed nothing. I wondered if prince Jett had given him those specific orders. I didn't have a chance to ask since I had not seen the prince since our meeting.

  I walked into my room and noticed that there was a plate on a tray near my door. It was lunch by the looks of it. I’m not sure how long it was out there, but I could tell that it was at least made today, I bent down to touch the food. Stone cold, but it looked good, so I took a few bites. The potato was moist and soft. I was unsure of what the meat was, but it was tender and juicy. Thinking of that made me stop chewing, what was it? There were no cows, pigs, or chicken. No boar, at least not enough for the slaves to eat. Where did they get this meat from?

  I gagged but knew better than to throw it up. I hope it's not rat. I really hope it's not.

  "Laramie!" My name bounced off the walls. No time to relax, working started the minute I woke up.

  I shuffled as fast as I could toward the main room. The prince was in his chair when I opened the door. "Yes, my lord?"

  "Took you long enough, you need to set out my apparel for this evening." He didn't even bother to look at me.

  "Yes, my lord." I walked toward his room, completely prepared to see a tornado. He did not disappoint; the room was in shambles.

  I quickly cleaned up what I could reach right away. For the areas that needed a deeper clean, I went to get the necessary supplies. I walked out and down toward the supply area. A little happy to be back to my primary work assignment. Laying up all day is for the birds.

  "Laramie!" Prince Jett calling my name so quickly, caused me to jump out of my skin. What happened? I dropped everything I had in my hands and ran the best I could back to him.

  Out of breath, I stopped in front of him. "Yes, milord."

  "Do you think this is adequately done?" He pointed to the room and the piles of items I had yet to clean, staring me in the face.

  "No, I-" He cut me off before I could finish.

  "I don't know what you think, but I will not hesitate to release you back to Davorin." He stared down into my face, a
lmost wishing me to go against him. I knew better.

  "I understand, my Prince." I turned to retrieve the items I’d dropped in the hall.

  "Where do you think you are going?" He grabbed me a little more forcefully than necessary. I would bruise, I just knew it.

  "I’m going to get the supplies to finish cleaning your quarters. I was on my way back with them when you called for me."

  He blinked a few times, realizing he yelled at me for something that was already being done. "Oh, well, move faster!" He said, trying to justify his anger.

  "Yes, my lord." I picked up the pace as best I could, my leg hindering the process. I gathered everything and made my way past him. Ignoring him as he stood in the doorway.

  He followed me in, watching as I made my way through the mess.

  "Why do you limp?" He asked out of the blue. I figured there would be some explanation of why he was just standing there. It was twenty question time.

  "It’s from a punishment I was due," I replied. He’d not said we were speaking informally yet, so I would speak like I had to fear punishment.

  He rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath, "Speak to me, plainly."

  Permission granted.

  "Davorin threw me on the rack when I was about nine years old for spitting in his blood cup," I said, careful not to smile. These neck biters were very particular about their blood.

  "Nine, wow, that is young."

  "Yeah, he groomed me early." I shrugged and continued my work.

  "Groomed?"

  "Well, I have my moments, but I like to think I’m a hard worker." I looked over my shoulder, making sure he agreed.

  "You’re proud, too proud. You’re insubordinate, just in a pleasant tone, and you’re damaged goods." He said without a hint of emotion on his face like he was reading a list from a book.

  "If I’m so bad, you should get rid of me." I rolled my eyes at him. I hope he knew that speaking plainly also meant facial expressions.

  "No, honestly, having everyone agree with me at all times gets quite boring. A little push back breaks up the monotony."

  "Pushback, huh? Well, you are in the wrong line of business if you wanted that." I said, moving on to his bed, stripping the sheets off.

  "Tell me about it."

  I turned to face him; he sounded almost sad about it. Why?

  "You don't want to be King?"

  "Of course I do, but from where I’m from, the idea of a king is something completely different to me. There, a king frees his oppressed people, and they are strong even when being strong can be seen as being weak. They want the residents of their world to be happy. Here, it's all about who has the most land, who has the most slaves, who has the better generals." He huffed audibly, running his hands through his hair. "Do you know they have gladiator matches? What barbaric civilization still does that? And as king, I am expected to come to the events and clap and cheer. I have better things to do."

  "It sounds like you could be an excellent king to your people."

  He rolled his eyes but did not disagree.

  "I would, but all these political games hold me back. I don't even know why he chose me."

  "What do you mean by that?" I asked, desperate for some information. Did he not want to be king? Did he think there was someone else better for the job?

  "That is enough talk for the day." He made his way toward the door, leaving me to my duties.

  I looked around the room, suddenly aware I was alone in the king's suite. He must trust me more than I realize. Not only am I in contact with his sole food supply, but all of his expensive jewels and trinkets were free for me to touch. Now I’m no thief, but he never thought to send someone in to make sure I wasn't doing something that would cause him harm. I guess I’d already proved my loyalty, I mean I don't know many slaves that would take an arrow for their captor.

  Chapter 7

  The prince and I went back and forth in this dance. I would have all of my chores done before he could even ask, and he would find something mundane to scream at me about. As usual, I held my tongue; there was no arguing with him. I was the slave; he was the master. Soon to be king, in fact, his word was the law not just to me but to everyone in the castle and the land.

  "Laramie!" I cringed as he screamed my name. I had begun waiting by the walkway, knowing that sooner or later, he would be calling for me.

  I walked in, waiting for whatever ridiculous complaint he had this time. "Yes, my lord."

  "This blood cup is not warm enough, were you dallying when you prepared it for me?" He looked at me straight in my face.

  I had brought him his cup before the chimes had finished and put it in its usual spot, he then proceeded to ignore it while talking to his generals for a full twenty minutes. Of course, it was no longer warm; he’d left it there to get cold.

  "No my-"

  He cut me off before I could continue, "You only have small tasks to be done, and you can't even get those things done! You are worthless. Amazingly, you’ve been smart enough or lucky enough to stay alive this long. Tell me, what are you good for? Maybe you should just be a bed slave, serve me from your back only!" The vein on the side of his neck jumped with every word. "I’ll have to ask Davorin, maybe that was the appeal you had for him. Tell me, did you make it good for him?"

  No response. I did my best to keep my chin up and just let his words roll off my back, but I’d messed up. I had formed a sort of camaraderie with the prince, enjoying those few moments when he allowed me to speak plainly. I could see he was a good man, maybe even stuck in a place he didn't want to be so for him to talk to me in this matter, cut deeper than it should have.

  "Of course, you have no response, you’re beyond a waste of space, you.."

  He stopped short as one lonely tear made its way down my face. I did not blink. I did not look away, nor did I try to wipe the evidence away. But neither did he, I could see the brief look of pain and disgust on his face. It almost looked like he was ashamed he’d made me cry. He looked down at his cup and then back to me.

  "Get out of my sight, slave." He finally looked away from me, the words much softer as he ordered me away.

  "Yes, milord."

  I hurried to my room, willing myself to stop the waterworks. I’d been talked to like this for as long as I can remember. I couldn’t let anyone, not even prince Jett, break down the walls I had built up. It was hard, and I’d been strong for so long, it was just too hard to keep it up. I cried silently in my room with my head lodged firmly into the soft pillow.

  I can't be sure how long I was there crying, but it was cathartic. I would have continued, but there was a tap on my shoulder. I lifted my head, ready for Helene to tell me to get myself together. Imagine my surprise when prince Jett stood before me. I jumped to my feet, hastily wiping my face and brushing down my hair. If there is one thing I know, it’s that he doesn't like messy women.

  "My lord, I’m sorry, did you call? I didn't hear you. Did you need something?" I looked around, waiting for my punishment.

  "Speak to me plainly, Laramie." He looked into my eyes; the concern fully etched on his face.

  "What do you mean, my Prince?"

  "Why do you cry?"

  I did not want this. I certainly did not want his pity. "Oh, don't worry about me, my Prince. It’s just me being silly."

  "Don't tell me what to do." He swiped my hand down when I tried again to wipe my face, "Why are you crying?"

  Fine, if he wanted to hear it, I would tell him. "You put me down all the time, and all I do is exactly what you tell me. I make it my business to anticipate your needs, but it never seems to be enough. What do I need to do to please you? How can I appease you?" I looked up at him, tears on the edge of my eyelashes.

  "Laramie, I am sorry you feel this way." He shook his head and walked toward my little window. "I know I am hard on you, I know you do what I need, but I don't want it to seem as though you get special treatment, people talk, you know." He turned slightly toward me.

&
nbsp; "I understand, milord, but I guess just today was a bit much for me."

  "I apologize," he flashed back to my side. "I never want to see you in this state." He wiped the tears that were still streaming down my face.

  "Then be nicer to me."

  "How can I, they will target you if they think that you are my pet."

  That comment pissed me off. I am no man’s pet. "I am not your pet. I am a person."

  "Laramie, don't take it that way."

  "There is no other way for me to take it. I know I am your slave, but I can do with some respect." I folded my arms around my chest.