Transaction

[The Imfamous AKA]

Book I: Slave

It took Drake several minutes to realize that Rue was standing solemnly next to his door, head down demurely, waiting for his notice. Her thick, red hair fell around her shoulders, covering her face so she didn’t have to look at him. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, her feet placed so she could easily dip into a curtsy, and, most importantly, her eyes trained on the ground. Despite the submissive pose, she was silently cursing him, waiting for the day that she would have the upper hand.
She felt, rather than saw, his gaze travel up her figure, settling on her face. “Go away, Rue,” he said simply, returning to his attention to his papers. “I’m much to busy to bother with you today. Send Katrina up.” She stifled a relieved sigh. He wasn’t too busy; he was just in no mood to hear her cry as he touched her. She nodded once and opened the door.
“And Rue?” he asked. She froze, silent and nervous. “Wear your hair up. It’s prettier that way.” She nodded once more, and tied her hair at the nape of her neck with a black ribbon as she left his room. She kept one with her, because he could never decide if he liked her hair up or down. She walked softly, hands still clasped behind her back, but prouder, less docile now. Out of Drake’s sight, she had no one else to fear. She was not a meek first year; she wore the darker colors of a veteran of this so-called “educational facility.” She hurried off to the sleeping quarters to alert Katrina of their Master’s call. Katrina hastily readied herself and took off for his quarters. Rue smiled sadly at the third year’s enthusiasm, remembering when she had it too, and thankful that her own novelty had long worn off. She willingly passed the title of “Drake’s Favorite Toy” down to this pitiful thing.
Rue wandered the premises, as she usually did with her newfound freedom. After five years of being Drake’s favored plaything, she relished her ability to spend her time as she pleased, away from the torments she found in Drake’s suite. The guards liked and trusted her, so they didn’t bother to restrain her as she drifted through the corridors of the dismal place she called home the past six years. She meandered aimlessly, but ended up in the front hall, as she so often did. She understood that her subconscious was telling her to escape, but today her interest was peaked by the men pulling a late-comer into the hall.
This new-comer was much older than most first years, probably seventeen or eighteen, rather than the standard twelve or thirteen. He had fair, curly hair, and pleading blue eyes as he walked carefully with the sentry. His eyes met hers, and Rue felt her heart stop. She felt compelled to talk.
“I suppose he is to finish Prince Tristan’s Court off for the year?” she respectfully inquired of the guards.
“Yes, Miss Rue, he is. Rather old, but Tristan wanted someone to replace Ian,” the first guard replied. Rue suppressed a shudder; Ian was one of Tristan’s favorites. She couldn’t imagine for the life of her what went on behind those doors.
“You two probably have posts to return to. Would you like me to take care of him?” she asked.
“That would be wonderful, Miss Rue,” the second guard responded. “You know where to take him?”

[The Imfamous AKA]

“Of course. To the seamstress for uniform fittings, the sleeping quarters for bed assignments, the mess hall for seating assignments, and then to Tristan’s apartment to introduce him. Drake occasionally has me show his new arrivals around.” She smiled sweetly, making sure not to acknowledge the boy. The guards nodded and released his arms. She stepped forward to take his wrist, and tugged him off in the direction of the seamstress’ quarters.
Once they were out of sight, she dropped his wrist and turned to face him. “You’re very welcome,” she said with a smile.
“For what?” he questioned carefully. She couldn’t help but grin at his naiveté.
“They would have taken you directly to Tristan’s quarters, and then where would you be? Roomless, without suitable attire, and hungry until at least tomorrow morning, probably longer, that’s where. Tristan likes to test out his new acquisitions.” He tilted his head and looked at her questioningly. “Has no one told you what this place is?”
“No. Should they have?” His voice wavered, and he seemed rather scared.
“We’re toys. They tell people this is an educational facility, but really, they train us to be subservient, docile little sexual playthings, see how we like the world then.” She loved the reaction she received from this bluntness. Usually. But she wasn’t prepared for his.
“That would explain my family’s eagerness to get me here.” She was taken aback by this. Fear she was used to, distress as well. She’d never dealt with acceptance this early before.
“Really? I mean, my parent’s were anxious, as well, but this place scared the daylights out of me the first few days. I mean, your Master alone…” She shuddered openly this time. Drake was bad enough, and he was usually gentle. Tristan, she had heard, had chains. She recovered quickly enough, and proceeded to tell him basic procedures as she led him from place to place.
As he was being fitted for a first year’s white uniform, “You have one Master. Yours is Tristan. You will refer to him as Master, or Master Tristan unless you’re told otherwise. Don’t expect to be. Everyone dressed in nice clothing is Lord or Lady, with the exception of Prince Drake, Tristan’s brother. You will refer to him as Prince Drake. Eventually, you’ll be introduced to the Queen, Tristan and Drake’s mother. You will refer to her as Your Majesty, nothing else, not even if she requests for you to call her something else. Anyone else is Sir or Miss…”
In the sleeping quarters, “You will do as is requested of you. Take anything your master says as a direct order. Don’t question it. Anything the Queen says is an absolute order. She overrules the Princes and Lords and Ladies. If Prince Drake or another Lord or Lady asks something of you, you’d do best to do it. If you’re uncomfortable with it or think Tristan wouldn’t want you to do it, say ‘I should best ask Master Tristan’s permission first.’ Simple as that. Then hurry off and ask Tristan. If he says to do it, do it. You don’t have worry about rank. Only the Queen can pull rank of Tristan, and she probably won’t bother…”
In the mess hall, “A Season here is a full year. This is my seventh Season. You can be here for as little as one Season. The Season is ten months of training, i.e. serving your Master, and two months of free study, i.e. when you’re paired up with another ‘student’ and we see what you’ve learned. If the result of this ‘free study’ is a pregnancy, you get to leave. If it’s not, you stay for another Season. If you turn twenty before you have a ‘free study’ pregnancy, you can go. The only other ways to leave are expulsion and for your family to pull you from the program…”

[The Imfamous AKA]

As she led him around the corridors, she let him ask questions.
“Why are the uniforms different colors?” he asked, looking down at his own pure white outfit.
“The colors show which year you’re in.” She glanced down at her own pitch clothing. “White is for first years, yellow for second, light green for third, red for fourth, blue for fifth, purple for sixth, and black for seventh and above. Don’t bother looking for anyone in else in black. I’m the senior ‘student’ right now.”
“You explained the title system. What should I call you?”
“If anyone is around, I’m Miss Rue to everyone but Drake and the Queen. If it’s just us, you can call me Rue. Don’t take the liberty with anyone else, though.”
“So I’d be Sir Soren?”
“If Soren’s your name.”
“What?” he asked confused.
“I was so busy showing you the ropes, we never bothered to introduce ourselves. My name’s Rue, and apparently you’re Soren.”
“Right.” He grinned at her. “So why do you get to take liberties with names?”
“I’m well respected, Soren. No one messes with me because no one has to. I do as I’m told, and have for over six years. In return, I get special privileges. It also doesn’t hurt to be Prince Drake’s favorite. At least, I was.” She gazed off, thoughtfully.
“Was?”
“Was. I think I’ve been replaced. A third year named Katrina seems to have taken over. More power to her. I’ve only got two more years after this, tops, and since everyone likes me, I’ll probably just breeze through.”
“But what if you get pregnant?”
“Wow, you really pay attention, don’t you? That’s not really an issue because it’s not going to happen.”
“Why not? Don’t you have as good of a chance as any?”
“I didn’t really explain the process enough for you to understand. The ‘free study’ starts by choosing a partner. I never really choose anyone; they tend to flock after me. I don’t want to be carrying the child of someone I don’t like, so I make sure that nothing happens when I could get pregnant. At least until I find someone who I can actually stand for any length of time. This place isn’t so bad that I’m going to force a lifelong connection with someone I hate.”
She realized where they were. “We’re here. Tristan’s quarters.” She looked over his stance. “One last thing. Stand like me.” She demonstrated, her hand behind her back, feet shoulder width apart, eyes on the ground. “Be prepared to bow. Keep your head down as I introduce you. This’ll be the stance you take for the rest of your time here, unless told otherwise. Don’t raise your head until Tristan tells you to. Stand by the door, and don’t speak unless spoken to, alright?” He nodded, and adopted the proper stance with little adjustment. She knocked on the door, and took the stance herself, minus the lowered head.
Tristan came immediately to the door. “Ah, Miss Rue. I didn’t realize you were on the welcoming committee.” His gaze shifted to Soren. “You brought fresh meat! Delightful! Come in, both of you!” He opened the door wide, and they entered slowly.

[The Imfamous AKA]

Rue took her place as a visitor near the center of the room. Soren did as instructed and stood demurely by the door. Tristan smiled. “You trained him well, Rue. I can barely tell this is his first day.”
“Thank you, Prince Tristan. Would you like me to take my leave?”
“No, Miss Rue, not at all. Stay as I examine him.” She winced slightly, hoping he wouldn’t insist on her presence.
“Of course, Prince.” She moved to take a place on the other side of the door. Tristan motioned Soren to the center, and examined him carefully, walking in circles around him, occasionally instructing Soren to move. Soren did as was told of him, and Rue watched on awkwardly.
Finally, Tristan spoke. “He’ll do just fine. Thank you for bringing him here, Rue.” He grinned maliciously at her. “Can I convince you to stay tonight?”
She shook her head, feigning woe. “You and I both know that Prince Drake would not allow it.”
“Ah, yes, my older brother. I suppose then that both of you should go now.” Rue forced herself to hide her confusion. He quenched it soon enough. “I have other plans tonight, unfortunately.” He gently pushed open the door to his bedroom, motioning to the small first year sitting petrified on the bed. She worked even harder to hide her disgust, quickly taking her leave with Soren.
When they left the room, she looked at Soren, who was no where near as scared as the first year girl. “You are very, very lucky, Soren. That could have been you tonight. You should be a bit more unsettled than you are, or are you looking forward to your training?” In truth, she was highly disturbed, not by the fact the girl was there, but by the heavy iron shackles on her feet and hands. A runner. She was not one of Tristan’s, and the manacles told her what Tristan did not. She had long suspected Tristan of being one of the elite group who broke runners, but she dared not hope he wasn’t. That fact alone could make future dealings with him nearly impossible. She would have to find ways around this. Almost subconsciously, she began to walk as she tried to think her way through this conundrum.
Soren rushed to catch up with her. “Where are you going?” he asked, confused.
“To think. That’s all,” she replied, distracted. She reached the door she was looking for. “You should probably head back to the sleeping quarters. You’ll need your rest, for Tristan will surely want to deal with you tomorrow.”
“I’m not tired. Can I stay with you?” He smiled hopefully, albeit sheepishly. She regarded him cautiously, and glanced around them, looking for any signs of others.
She sighed. “Be happy no one else uses this place.” She reached down the front of her uniform, and pulled out the string of keys she wore around her neck. Pulling out a tiny bronze one, she unlocked the door slowly, and taking one last look around, hurriedly pulled him inside. She quickly and quietly closed the door behind her as Soren took in the view.
The hexagonal courtyard was lush and green, with one large tree in the center reaching up nearly to the top of the seven story walls around it. It provided ample shade for the grass and flowers planted around it, and for the deep, clear pool situated near the south wall. She smiled as she took in his shocked reaction to her secret place.
“I- I didn’t…” he stuttered uselessly, only to have her cut him off.
“Didn’t think a place so cruel and dismal could hold a heart so beautiful?” She grinned cautiously, glancing around. “I’m one of the few with a key. Drake figured I could use something to get my mind off, well, you know… He thought that if I could be happier during the day, I might be more,” she paused, searching for the right word. “Useful, I suppose, at night.”

[The Imfamous AKA]

“He’s really that horrible?” he asked, turning to look at her, away from the beauty that should have held his eyes.
“Not as bad as some, I suppose. I could be chained up in Roth’s apartments.” She smiled ruefully at the thought of Lord Roth. He was probably the cruelest lord in this depressing place. “But Drake and I have a history together.” She paused at his puzzled glance. “Some noble families get along well with others. Drake’s and my own are extremely close. His treatment of me these years only demeans our previous kinship, and it taints anything that could ever be pleasant between us.” She turned, unable to withstand his searching stare. After a few moments of silence, she glanced at him. His eyes hadn’t left her. “What?”
“You’re a noble,” he said, and she couldn’t decipher the look on his face.
“And you didn’t think nobles had to go through this? Here’s a piece of advice for you. You’d do well to bear in mind that everyone in this building is either going through this now, or did when they were younger.” She glanced out at the pool, trying to keep her anger from her voice. “Isn’t that sickening? That all of those nobles and royals and guards had to go though this living hell that they refuse to acknowledge. Isn’t it sad that they hate themselves so much that they have to turn around and inflict this on the next generation rather than try to make it better?”
His eyes continued to scan her face, and she was determined not to look at him. “Isn’t it maddening how they take their own families, their own sisters, and do this to them? I’ve seen families torn apart by this place.” She gave a short, bark-like laugh. “I’ve seen people kill themselves in this place. I’ve seen my own face mirrored on a hundred girls as they try not to flinch when their masters touch them.”
“But-“ he started, only to be cut off by her rant.
“But don’t worry too much, Soren. You’ll have it easy. Tristan doesn’t care about you, and as long as you keep your head down and your mouth shut, you won’t end up over your head.” She turned completely away from him, willing herself not to cry. She really hadn’t the faintest idea why he was causing this sort of reaction in her. She was a master of deception, fooling all of those idiot Lords and Ladies into the palm of her hand, but this one newcomer had her telling almost all of her secrets in one day.
“We should probably go, Soren. Tristan may be busy, but I know of a few Lords and Ladies who would love to catch me breaking a few rules, and this definitely applies.” She started toward the door they entered from, glancing over her shoulder to see if he was following. She still refused to look at his face, but he wasn’t moving. “Are you coming?” she asked impatiently.
“I’m sorry, Rue,” he replied, not answering her question.
“For what?” she asked turning abruptly to face him. “None of this is your fault. It’s not as if you’re one of the ones who hurt us. You’re probably a commoner, sent here by chance. You’ll be gone in two years, back to whatever existence you came from, no longer a factor for those of us stuck in this hellhole. You really don’t understand, do you, that when I get out of here, they’re going to turn around and instate me as a Lady after a few Seasons. You don’t understand the massive power struggles that occur here ever day right under our noses. And no one can expect you to. You’re going to be an underling, one of Tristan’s ‘backup slaves’ while you’re here. And how is it fair that you’ll breeze through this place with minimal pain, and there are people like me who’ll cry everyday? Answer me that, Soren.” With that, she turned and stalked out the door. She heard his quick footsteps behind her as he tried to catch up. She stopped dead in her tracks at the approach of one of the most hated Ladies in the place.

[The Imfamous AKA]

Soren quickly halted directly behind her. “Put your head down,” she hissed insistently. Luckily, he dropped it, smart enough to know it was for his own good. But he didn’t lower it soon enough for them not to catch the Lady’s gaze.
“Miss Rue!” she exclaimed when she approached. “How do you fair today? And who is this fascinating specimen? A bit old to be a first year, isn’t he? He is Tristan’s replacement for Ian, correct? He is obedient, I hope? I doubt Tristan will take much notice of him, do you think? I suppose you’ve been appointed the task of showing him the ropes? By the way, are any of Drake’s first years causing problems? Because if they are, he can always send them straight to me.” She spoke slowly, with purpose, and Rue listened carefully, knowing this particular test well. She would be expected to answer every question with accuracy.
“Good day, Lady Delaney. I fair very well, and I hope you do as well. This is Soren. He is a few years older than the average first year, but you are correct, he is to replace Ian. I have found him to be quite obedient, as has Tristan. Tristan was already occupied when I arrived with him, but I cannot say how much of a role Soren will play for him. The guards who escorted him here turned him over to me as the senior student here, so I have taken on the responsibility of giving him a general tour of the facility. And as for Drake’s first years, none are showing any warning signs of being runners, and Drake is exceptional at choosing obedient first years, so I foresee no problems. I will be sure to relay the message to him, and if there are any obedience issues, I am sure he will call you directly.” Rue went over a quick checklist in her head, satisfied she hadn’t missed anything. Lady Delaney smiled softly, and nodded her head. She began to walk again, but stopped short a few paces away.
“Oh, and Miss Rue?” she asked politely. Rue turned dutifully.
“Yes, Milady?” She smiled, an emotion she did not feel.
“Please ask Drake if I could trouble him for a few hours of your assistance tomorrow.” She grinned once again, but this was a more malicious sentiment. Rue swallowed hard.
“Of course, Milady Delaney. I will ask him in the morning and report to you with his reply before noon.”
“Before you report to me, please ask Tristan if Soren here could accompany you, if that would not be a problem.”
“Not a problem at all. Tristan is unavailable at the moment, but I will request Soren’s presence as soon as I have acquired Drake’s.”
“Thank you, Miss Rue. I will await you in my chambers tomorrow at noon.” Without another word, Delaney turned again and stalked off down the hallway, meeting her brother, Roth at an intersection, and chatting with him as she walked. Once they were out of sight, Rue signaled Soren that he could raise his head.
“Who was that?” he asked, mildly shaken by the Lady’s attitude.
“That, Soren, was Lady Delaney. A warning for you: if you chose only one person not to anger here, your best bet would be Lady Delaney. She will kill you as soon as be kind.”
“But she didn’t-“ he began.

[The Imfamous AKA]

¡°Didn¡¯t seem so bad? She doesn¡¯t until you least expect it. She¡¯s a Breaker, Soren, the most ruthless of them, on top of that. Don¡¯t expect mercy if you anger her.¡±
¡°A Breaker?¡± He glanced at her dubiously.
¡°A Breaker, Soren.¡± She skimmed him face in return, and seeing his blank look, she continued. ¡°Out of every ten first years, at least two are usually runners. People who get it into their heads that they can get out of this place if they try. They can¡¯t. The Breakers are an elite group of Lords and Ladies who take those runners, and turn them into docile pets for the rest of the Lords and Ladies. Delaney and her brother Roth are the best at it.¡±
¡°How awful.¡±
¡°I agree, but you were smart enough not to try to run. You probably won¡¯t have to deal with her outside this one occasion.¡± Noticing his anxious look, she continued. ¡°Oh, yes, you can¡¯t get out of it tomorrow. Neither Tristan nor Drake will have problems with our visit to Delaney. So we should probably get some rest.¡± She turned down the main hallway toward the sleeping quarters.
They walked in silence, both contemplating the other until they rooms. She opened the door for him, and nodded to his bed. He sat on it in docilely until she began the walk back towards Drake¡¯s tower.
¡°Don¡¯t you sleep here?¡± He gestured to the extensive bunks lining the wall where the majority of the ¡°students¡± slept. She smiled sadly, once more.
¡°No, Soren. I have a private room in Drake¡¯s tower.¡± She closed the door behind herself, and walked quickly to her room. Collapsing onto the bed, she fell asleep and dreamed dreams of a red haired queen and her blond suitor. She smiled serenely in her sleep.

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¡°It¡¯s fine with me, Rue,¡± Drake said without looking at her. ¡°As long as it¡¯s not Tristan, I don¡¯t care.¡±
¡°Thank you, Master Drake,¡± she replied, eyes to the ground. ¡°Anything else?¡±
¡°I expect you back here promptly at eight. I should be finished by then.¡± He waved his hand at her, an obvious dismissal. She nodded once and quickly left the room. She walked slowly, eyes closed, trying to clear her nerves. She knew it was coming. He would not let her cry her way out tonight. She had been lucky; it was almost two months into the Season, and he hadn¡¯t demanded her service yet. She was damn lucky, but she wasn¡¯t stupid enough to think it would last.
She shook her head once, then hurried off it the sleeping quarters to fetch Soren. It would be suicide to approach Tristan alone. She entered confidently, ignoring the quiet whispers that followed her. Her black uniform was a curiosity to the other students. She had been the first in several decades to become a seventh year. She stopped in front of Soren¡¯s bed.
¡°Stand up,¡± she ordered brusquely at his slouched form. He stiffened immediately and rose in slight shock. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Without looking back to see if he followed, she turned and strode from the room. She paused and allowed him to catch up once out of sight of the others. She smiled kindly at him as he hurried to catch up with her.

[The Imfamous AKA]

“Sorry about that,” she said when he reached her. “Gossip travels fast here, and if anyone thinks I’m being too friendly with a first year, there could be repercussions.”
“But what about yesterday?” he inquired as they began in the direction of Tristan’s tower.
“Yesterday I was giving you a tour and telling you how things work. Today I am only taking you were ordered. I’m not a companion, I’m a superior. This means I boss you around when others are near. But when we’re alone, I can treat you normally.” She turned to face him and smiled. “Now hurry up! We don’t want to be late to Lady Delaney’s, and we have a stop to make first!” Her smile grew to a grin as she took off running for Tristan’s tower. Her quiet laugh echoed in the hallway as he sprinted after her.
She slowed as they reached Tristan’s tower; Soren did not. He made to swerve around her when he realized she had stopped, but she grabbed his arm at the last second. His momentum swung them around, and she tumbled into the wall, trying not to laugh. All laughter died when he fell into her, caging her between his arms. Neither could move, or else neither wanted to. They remained, breath stolen, faces barely an inch apart, bodies pressed almost entirely together, for what felt like eons. Rue ordered herself not to close the distance between their lips, even as she felt herself moving. At the slightest touch, he groaned softly and pressed her into the wall.
As if her initiation had been permission, he leaned into her, his hand sliding down her sides to rest on her hips. She willed herself to pull away; instead, her hands skimmed his arms, relishing the strength coiled there for a few seconds before tangling in his blond locks. His arm circled her waist possessively while he fought to pull her closer, as if it were possible. His tongue glided across her bottom lip, begging to enter. She willingly obliged, and he aggressively claimed her mouth. Exploring every corner of her mouth, he groaned again, slightly louder. The small noise incited in her a fire she had never felt before. She knew lust, but this, this was different. It triggered an inferno that made anything else she had felt seem like a tiny spark in comparison. She had to get more.
She slid her leg up around his, hooking behind his knee. She felt him nudge against her, and suddenly hated the layers of fabric between them. He broke their frantic embrace to trail a line of kisses across her jaw. His free hand passed over her shoulder to grasp the black ribbon that held her hair back. He callously pulled it from her tresses and curled his fingers into them. He gently pulled her head back to trace down the arch of her neck, stopping momentarily to graze his teeth across the pulse point. He continued to move farther down, follow the scooping neckline of her dress. She arched up to meet him as he licked down into her cleavage. She moaned softly as he moved up over her breastbone to outline her collarbones with kisses.
As she bent back to move against him, she heard the clock tower begin to chime. On instinct, she shoved Soren away and hurried to put some distance between them, reaching the far wall before the second peal. Outside the protective circle of his arms, she felt cold and alone, but fought the urge to return to him. They stood, tensed and winded until the eleventh ring. After that final noise, she raised her hand to cover her eyes from his invasive stare.
“We can’t, Soren,” was all she could say. She turned from him to lean against the opposite wall. “If we were discovered, the things they would do to us…” she trailed off, leaving the threat unfinished.

[The Imfamous AKA]

“I’m sorry, Rue,” he replied quietly. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” She could still feel his gaze on her, but she didn’t turn to him.
“Don’t apologize.” She began to straighten her uniform. “We’re not in trouble yet. Now compose yourself so we can talk to Tristan.” She moved to the center of the hallway as he straightened his shirt. Her eyes skimmed his body, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at his face. “Come on.”
She knocked softly on Tristan’s door, then lowered her head respectfully. She could see from the corner of her eye that Soren had taken up the courteous pose as well. She stifled a sigh for him as Tristan opened the door.
“Miss Rue! What a surprise! I thought you avoided me at all costs, and here you are, at my door two days in a row? Has Drake finally given permission for me to borrow you?” His voice and face were laughing and sarcastic, but she could sense the cruel undertones of his voice.
“No, Prince Tristan. I’m sorry to say that he hasn’t.” She politely raised her head, but did not look him in the eye. “I come bearing a request from the Lady Delaney. She would like to borrow Soren for several hours today.” She motioned to the man at hand, and Tristan’s eyes flashed angrily.
“Why, has he done something?”
“Oh, no, Prince. She has requested both mine and Soren’s assistance today. She was not inclined to say for what, however.” His face changed, and he nodded once.
“Very well. As long as he is not there too long, he may go.” He then turned on his heel and slammed the door in their faces. After several stunned seconds, Rue finally spoke again.
“Come on, Soren. We better go report to Lady Delaney.” She walked off, not bothering to wait for his response. Her head was held high, trying to ignore the sound of him scampering after her as he did so often in the past two days. Eyes closing momentarily, she forced away thoughts of the large, invasive, comforting, and above all, male presence behind her.
They approached Lady Delaney’s quarters in complete silence. Rue knocked softly, and stepped back to wait. Delaney answered almost immediately.
“Wonderful! You’re early. Come in, and we can get started.” She held the door open, and they entered solemnly. Delaney’s eyes scanned Soren then Rue, halting suspiciously on Rue’s neck. She grinned evilly. Soren jerked his head around to see what she saw, and his eyes widened in frightened shock. Delaney turned on him.
“You! Sit!” She pointed to a comfortable looking chair in the corner. Soren immediately dropped stiffly into it. “You!” She pointed to Rue. “Come!” She strode to the far door leading to her bedroom. Rue followed demurely. Delaney closed to door and locked it before moving to the vanity.
After several seconds of dreading silence, she spoke. “I thought you said Drake was busy last night.”
“Yes, Milady, he was.”
“I see. It’s about time then.” She smiled slyly.
“About time for what?”
“Your first affair. I doubt anyone has ever lasted as long as you without having one in this place.” She stood and pulled Rue closer, dabbing a bit of cover-up on her neck.
“A-Affair?”

[The Imfamous AKA]

¡°Yes, Rue,¡± she replied gently. ¡°An affair. With your Soren out there. I am right assuming he was the one who put this one your neck?¡± She continued rubbing the makeup on Rue¡¯s neck.
¡°Put what on my neck?¡±
¡°My, my! Aren¡¯t we oblivious?¡± She gestured to the mirror. Rue stared intently at the half-covered red teeth marks on her pulse point. She felt the heat rising against her cheeks. ¡°Ah, so you hadn¡¯t noticed. Drake marks you often enough that you¡¯ve probably learned to ignore it by now.¡± She finally noticed Rue¡¯s horrified expression. ¡°Oh, Rue, you have nothing to worry about. This was completely expected. I do believe that some of the Lords have a pool concerning when you¡¯d have your first affair.¡±
¡°But- but what about¡­¡± Rue stuttered cautiously.
¡°Drake? He won¡¯t be a problem. If he does find this,¡± she lightly tapped the practically invisible marks. ¡°Tell him I did it. He can¡¯t very well object to that, now can he?¡±
¡°I suppose not,¡± Rue replied tentatively. Affairs were approved of? She prided herself of knowing everything that went on here. How could she not have known this?
¡°You can go get settled Rue. I¡¯d like to get this started.¡± Delaney turned to put the cream back in its drawer. Rue reached for the door. ¡°And Rue?¡± She turned, glancing at her strangely. ¡°Don¡¯t let anyone catch you sneaking him off to the courtyard again.¡±
Rue¡¯s eyes widened. She hadn¡¯t known that Delaney had seen them leaving the courtyard. But Lady Delaney quickly became chipper once more.
¡°Let¡¯s get this little project underway, shall we?

¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö

¡°Moving furniture! How stupid can it get?¡± Rue raged as she led Soren back to the sleeping quarters. ¡°There are servants for this sort of thing! I bet you anything she was just trying to pump us for information.¡±
¡°That would explain all those questions she asked,¡± Soren replied. They halted a few feet from the door. ¡°Will I see you tomorrow?¡±
She stared at him for a few seconds, thinking. She should say no; they should cut short this, this, whatever was going on between them. But she couldn¡¯t bring herself to say no. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ll be in Drake¡¯s quarters for the night, and I don¡¯t know when he¡¯ll let me leave.¡± She paused, almost embarrassed. ¡°I could be there until late tomorrow night, or possible the morning after.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± he responded dejectedly. His head fell, and he turned halfway to the door. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll see you when I can, I suppose.¡±
¡°Yes, you will.¡± She hesitated, cursing herself inwardly for what was about to spring from her mouth. ¡°I¡¯ll get away as soon as possible, alright?¡±
He looked up at her again, and grinned widely. ¡°Sound good.¡± She smiled back at him, but she countenance revealed none of her inward confusion.
¡°Now get to bed before I have to report you to Tristan!¡± He yelped quietly and scampered into the hall. She watched him go, sad, confused, and very reluctant to go to Drake.

[The Imfamous AKA]

¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö

Soren settled into his bed, ready to sleep and dream of Rue, as he did the night before. But the conversation a few beds to his left kept his attention. There was a large group of second and third years gathered on a small group of shoved together beds, talking about the only thing of interest around here: Rue.
¡°We¡¯re two months into the Season, and this is the first time Drake¡¯s bedded her! Can you believe that?¡± a loud mouthed third year exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯ve been up there with him four out of five nights and she¡¯s still his bloody favorite!¡±
¡°It¡¯s definitely unfair, Katrina,¡± a burly third year boy replied. ¡°You work so hard for him and never get anything.¡± Ah, so this was Katrina, the third year bent on taking Rue¡¯s position as Drake¡¯s favorite. If only she knew how much Rue resented the role.
¡°I know! She¡¯s leashed!¡± Katrina exclaimed. She was answered with a chorus of ¡°So leashed!¡± ¡°More leashed than anyone in the history of leashing!¡± and ¡°Its sick how leashed she is!¡± It was sickeningly obvious that Katrina was the ringleader of the third years.
¡°I heard Delaney telling Roth that she¡¯s never even had an affair!¡± a second year injected. He was met with gasps of horror and surprise.
¡°She¡¯s a seventh year! How¡¯s she survived this long without having an affair?¡± a dark haired third year asked.
¡°I dunno! But that¡¯s what they said.¡± Katrina grimaced, obviously disgusted with the thought.
¡°This conversation¡¯s so over. I¡¯m going to bed.¡± At her command, the others pulled all the bed apart except for two, onto which Katrina and the burly third year retired. Soren tried to ignore the strained noises of the mattress springs and the mewling of the obnoxious Katrina. When they finally stopped, he drifted of into sleep and his dreams of Rue.

¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö

Rue, however, was not so lucky. She arrived at Drake¡¯s quarters at ten minutes to eight, but he was still working on his pointless paperwork. He told her to wait on the bed. She sank into the mattress, sitting stiffly upright, willing the scratching of his pen to never stop. She almost fell asleep, and was slouched slightly when he came over.
He came up behind her, pushing her hair carefully away from her neck. He leaned down and gently kissed the tender spot behind her ear. She almost melted, in her half dreaming state, imagining it was Soren. But she knew in the back of her mind it wasn¡¯t, and forced herself awake.
¡°Where¡¯s your hair ribbon?¡± he asked between the light pecks down her throat.
¡°Hmm?¡± she replied, not understanding.
He straightened, but kept his arms tightly around her shoulders. ¡°You ribbon. You had it in your hair when I talked to you this morning. Where is it?¡± She flashed back to that morning in the hallway with Soren; him pulling it from her hair to curl his fingers in her tresses, dropping it to the floor. It must still be sitting outside Tristan¡¯s room. She nearly panicked, but quickly thought up a neat reply.

[The Imfamous AKA]

¡°I took it out in Lady Delaney¡¯s room. I must have left it there.¡± He seemed satisfied, and curved down around her once more. He tilted her head carefully to face him, and claimed her mouth gently. She knew it was only a careful prelude to what he had in store for her later in the night; he¡¯d be much more aggressive soon. But she could not help compare it to Soren¡¯s kiss earlier. Drake kissed as passionately as he knew how, but she felt nothing. In over seven years of serving him, kissing him, pleasuring him, she couldn¡¯t force herself to feel anything. She couldn¡¯t feel hatred at his enslavement of her, anger at his ravishing of her body, or pity at his need to. She was but an empty shell for Drake.
But not for Soren. Kissing Soren, no, just being around Soren, made her feel more alive than she had in all her years in this hellhole. She thought of Soren¡¯s grinning face as Drake softly laid her on the bed. Of his scampering after her down the hallways as Drake pulled her cloths from her body. Of his passionate and caring embrace while Drake entered her forcefully, all gentility lost. Of his strong hands tangled in her hair as Drake collapsed on top of her, exhausted. Of his eyes that made her want to tell him everything as Drake fell asleep, resting up for a few hours before taking her again.

¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö

¡°Rue!¡± a familiar voice yelled, followed by the usual scampering of feet. She pulled the key from the lock. She turned, smiling softly at Soren as he stopped in front of her.
¡°Hello, Soren,¡± she replied quietly. His eyes were wide as he took in her rumpled appearance. She knew her face was pale, her long, red hair was mildly tangled, and her eyes were rimmed in red and blackish blue.
¡°What¡­ What happened?¡± he asked, smile gone.
¡°Nothing out of the ordinary, why?¡±
¡°Your eyes¡­ Have you been crying? Or¡­¡± he trailed off, staring at her eyes intently. ¡°Sleeping for that matter?¡± She glanced down the deserted hallway, which probably wouldn¡¯t stay deserted for long. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled him away from the door to the courtyard and down the corridor to another room. She towed him into a small sitting room off the library, plopping down into one of the comfortable chairs. She closed her eyes for several seconds, and then gestured for him to sit opposite of her.
After he sat, she left out the long, wavering sigh she had been holding in for hours. At his questioning gaze, she finally spoke. ¡°We can¡¯t be seen in the courtyard again. At least, you can¡¯t. Lady Delaney saw us leaving it and we¡¯re lucky she¡¯s humoring us.¡±
He ignored her not so subtle attempt to change the subject. ¡°What happened?¡±
¡°With Lady Delaney? She¡­¡±
¡°Not with Delaney. With you.¡± She shirked away from his intent stare.
¡°As I said, nothing out of the ordinary. I was with Drake last night, and I didn¡¯t really sleep. I never do when we, you know...¡± she looked around the room, hoping to escape his eyes.
¡°What, are you not allowed to sleep? Can he really go for that long? And what¡¯s with the scarf?¡± His eyes finally fell to the thick black scarf around her neck. She decided to start with the easiest question.

[The Imfamous AKA]

Unraveling the cloth, she revealed the dark red marks surrounding her neck. “Drake’s rather fond of marking.” Her fingers skimmed the sensitive skin. “So I cover them up. It’s not as though anyone doesn’t know what’s under there. I just hate feeling like... Like property, or a trophy, or, or...” The tears that had been threatening to spill all night finally did. She closed her eyes, ashamed and hoping to disappear. A single sob escaped her throat, and she didn’t realize he had stood until she felt his arms wrap around her.
“You are not property,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re much too strong for that.” She buried her face in his shoulder, a silent plea for him to stop the pain. “Everyone else here is broken, but you’re too powerful for that. You let them think they’ve crushed you, but I know better. You’re going to survive this place. I know it.”
She wept into his shoulder for long minutes that felt like hours. When she finally pulled away to look at his face, she found his eyes still bored into hers, but it was gentler, less invasive. “They all say you’re leashed, but you’re freer than all of them.”
She laughed softly, voice and smile shaking from the tears. “Where did you learn that?” He smiled widely again.
“Last night a bunch of second and third years were talking about you in the sleeping quarters. They used the term a lot, so the meaning was relatively clear.” His smile softened, and he continued. “That’s right, right? It’s like whipped? Completely under the Master’s control?”
“Two days here and you’ve already started learning the slang?” She smiled again in return. “Yeah, that’s right. At this rate, you’ll be better acquainted with slave culture than I am.”
“You’re trying to change the subject again, aren’t you?” His smile faded back into an intense gaze. “Tell me what happened. Please.” He still kneeled at her side, and she found the closeness comforting. Once more, his eyes compelled her to tell him all.
“I was with Drake last night. Nothing out of the ordinary.” She turned her head, but could not escape his stare. “It’s like a ritual, or something. He puts a few of these on my neck,” she gestures to the marks on her throat before continuing. “He has sex with me, he falls asleep, and I mentally prepare myself for when he wakes up. Repeat. It’s just...” She trails off, unsure of what she could say to add anything more.
“Just what, Rue?” he asked, cautiously.
“Just that he’d rather be with Katrina, or anyone else for that matter! I’m just an obligation! A bloody trophy! He only forces this on me to keep Tristan off his back!” She sobbed again, and buried her head in her hands.
“What?” he asked, surprise evident in his voice.
She jerked her head up, fresh tears clinging to her eyelashes. “Those two idiots fight over everything, especially me! The only reason Drake claimed me was so Tristan couldn’t have me! He only marks me and rapes me to rub it in Tristan’s face!” This time it was her eyes boring into his, until the intensity made him turn away.
“See! Even you can tell just by looking at me. I’m completely useless here except as fuel for the royal sibling rivalry. And there choice of target is simply sick, if you ask me...”
“What do you mean, sick?” His brow wrinkled in confusion.
“I’ve already told you how close I was to the two of them before I came here.” She turned away from him again. “Even the Queen disapproves! My family has power in this place, and she figured out long ago what they haven’t yet!”

[The Imfamous AKA]

¡°And what would that be?¡± he asked, still confused.
¡°When I¡¯m instated, I¡¯m going to make life a living hell for them.¡±
¡°How? You¡¯d have to be a royal to outrank them!¡± His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
¡°Ha! Not even. Women carry the power here, probably because there are less of us. Why else is the Queen in control, and not the King? If there really is a Princess, you could be damn sure that she¡¯d rank the Princes. A high level Noble, if she¡¯s female, has more power here than the Princes. Why else is Delaney head of the Breakers, and not Tristan? By law, he could pull rank and take the position, but everyone, including the Queen would side with her. The Princes hold power only in name, just like the King. The Queen could take it all away in a second if she wanted to.¡± She paused from her rant, catching her breath. All tears were gone from her flashing, angry eyes, and her hair surrounded her head like an angry red halo. She stared at him until he replied.
¡°There¡¯s a King?¡± he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
¡°Now who¡¯s trying to change the subject?¡± She glanced around the room again, trying to calm herself. ¡°Yes, there is a King. He never leaves his quarters in the North Tower. Stays up there all the time with his firsty slaves, which, if you ask me, is sicker than Tristan and Drake¡¯s game.¡± He grimaced, immediately getting her meaning.
¡°So, what? Is there a Princess, too?¡±
¡°You caught that? There¡¯s been a rumor going around the past couple years that a Princess is in training right now, waiting to get out and join the royal ranks.¡± She sighed. ¡°I hope it¡¯s true. Someone needs to put those two in their place. And since the Queen could care less, the only person who could is a Princess.¡± She shook her head sadly. ¡°But it¡¯s just a rumor. Who knows if it¡¯s true?¡± They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Soren finally broke it.
¡°Well, you¡¯re a lot more interesting angry than depressed!¡±

¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö¡Ö

Rue woke early the next day, having fallen asleep in the sitting room around 2 in the afternoon. She rubbed the crick in her neck, trying to work it out before she realized Soren was fast asleep in the chair across from her. She choked back a sob, not knowing that he had stayed. But thinking about it as she watched him sleep, she figured it was obvious. They had chatted for several hours after her original breakdown and blow up. She had cried twice more, lost her temper once, and only had to force back the urge to throw herself at him more times than she bothered to count.
He looked so peaceful, his head lolling, arms crossed over his chest, and feet splayed out. Quite an odd pose, but peaceful nonetheless. She lost track of time, watching him, until she by chance glanced at the clock, and realized how late it was. They could not afford to be late today.
She stood up, reached over, and shook his shoulder. ¡°Soren...¡± she whispered into his ear. When he didn¡¯t respond, she tried again, more loudly. ¡°Soren!¡± He jerked awake, looking about groggily.
¡°I¡¯m up! I¡¯m up! What¡¯d I miss?¡± She giggled at his ruffled hair and half closed eyes.
¡°Soren, if you don¡¯t straighten yourself out quick, we¡¯re going to be late!¡± she demanded, feigning anger.

[The Imfamous AKA]

“Late? Late for what?” he asked, thoroughly confused.
“The apprentice ceremony? I told you about it yesterday.” She spoke slowly, patronizing him just a bit.
“Oh! The ceremony! Of course!” He stood and tried to straighten his uniform. She laughed at his attempts to adjust it when his hair was completely disheveled.
“Come here...” she ordered, reaching over to smooth it down. Successful, she pulled away, only to see that he had been frozen, eyes closed. She couldn’t tell if he was horrified at her touch or relishing it. Worse, she couldn’t decide which she dreaded more. So she chose to ignore it. “You’re good. All set?” His eyes snapped open, and he looked a bit embarrassed, but he nodded.
She led him through the halls to the dining room, where the other slaves were assembling. Lined up in front of the long tables of slaves was a procession of apprentice guards. She and Soren took their seats, and she began skimming the crowd for familiar faces.
“You said that they were all slaves here, right? Ones that weren’t noble?” Soren whispered into her ear. She nodded, but didn’t reply verbally. She had browsed past all of the faces from last year, two years, and even three years ago, and had landed on the one face that mattered.
He wasn’t looking at her, but on an assigned spot on the wall as guards were taught. His face was hard, not the gentle one she had known. There was none of the usual laughter in his eyes, and his smile was a hard line. But despite the differences, it was obviously, unmistakably...
“Ian,” she whispered, her voice dismayed. He had told her he’d be applying as a guard, but she had hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t make the cut that year and get more than a month of freedom. But no, he was too good for that.
“What?” Soren asked quietly.
“Ian. Short, black hair, third from the left.” His eyes scanned the line and fell on him.
“The one I was sent to replace?” he inquired, tonelessly.
“My best friend.” She whispered in reply. But before he could respond, the ceremony started and the apprentices were assigned to their guards.
It didn’t take long for the twelve young men to be allocated among the high level nobles’ and royalties’ guards. Much to Rue’s dismay and happiness, Ian was assigned to Drake. When the ceremony over and the slaves and guards dismissed, she quickly towed Soren up to meet Ian.
“Ian!” she exclaimed, restraining herself from pouncing on him in a hug. He smiled, but it was not the wide, sly grin she had known. It was restrained, reserved, and obviously trained.
“Miss Rue. How are you?” he asked in a professional tone.
“I’m fine,” she replied, enthusiasm failing fast. “Allow me to introduce Sir Soren. Your replacement.” She gestured to Soren. “Soren, this is Ian. Your predecessor as one of Tristan’s Court.”
“Pleased to meet you, Sir Soren. I hope Tristan is treating you well?”
“Very well, Ian, for he has yet to take much notice of me.” Soren replied coldly.
“Ah, I see. A back-up then. Very good for you. Now, if you’d excuse me, I believe I must acquaint myself with Drake’s rules.” He left at Rue’s practiced nod, and Soren noticed that she had fallen in the subservient pose.