Chapter 3

"Kye."

For a moment, the voice mingled with my dreams, harsh and demanding, before I realized it was my master calling me from where he lay on the bed. I blinked, realized the sun was peeking up over the horizon already.

I cringed as I worked on sitting up. My body had stiffened back up overnight. I hoped none of the welts broke open as I twisted up from my window bed.

"Kye!" Master's voice was more demanding now.

"Yes, Master. I'm coming," I responded automatically. I was usually faster than this, but he had to know how much pain I was still in. Fortunately, he'd left me to rest all day and night yesterday. I didn't think I'd be so lucky today.

I made my way over to the large, plush bed. Heavy drapes lined the dark woods. Master had not drawn them closed last night; however, he often didn't as he preferred to rise early. Although on occasion in the last few months, he'd been gone late into the night—checking on his latest haul, I'd heard him say. I truly didn't pay much attention.

As soon as Master saw me in the dim light, he beckoned me closer, patting next to him on the bed. I braced myself for the agony of trying to climb, but I finally made it. His hand was immediately on the back of my head, guiding it down to his groin. I was glad this was all he wanted. As I bent over, sliding my mouth over his thick member, his hand trailed over the jutting welts on my back.

My breath caught at the soreness of my tender flesh, and I know my rhythm faltered.

"I can see you are still sore, pet," Master murmured.

I rolled my eyes, only because I knew he couldn't see me. I was sure he wasn't stupid enough to believe I'd be healed already after what he'd done. A small tug on the back of my head had me lifting up. He wanted a verbal response.

"Yes, master. A little," I lied.

He stared at me for a moment before nudging me to return my attention back to his groin. I was able to focus on my master's pleasure without too much movement of my own, thank the Gods. His breathing became irregular as his hips thrust erratically. A few minutes later, I choked down his hot seed quickly.

"Oh, by the Gods, Kye, I think you might just make me forget my troubles with the Sterling Counts," Master sighed blissfully.

I allowed him to pull me against him, as he petted my hair. "I'm happy to be of service, master."

I didn't really know much about who he was talking about, yet I vaguely remember the Sterling name from the night of the vicious punishment. From the way master spoke of them, I suspect these Sterling counts weren't some of the nobles who regularly visited. He didn't seem to like these men at all, which made me wonder what they might be like.

I'd seen so many nobles come through the parlor or during dinner parties they all blurred together—baronets, counts, dukes, earls, other marquis'—I didn't even know who out-ranked who, yet I sensed by the way my master often interacted with them, he was rather high in the peerage. Some of them often brought their own amoratos when they visited, which only served to reinforce the bitter irony of my own situation.

"I think maybe today you should stay in the room again. I expect to have company in the next few days, and I want you well enough to attend me." Master slowly stroked a hand over my back before he slid out of the bed.

"Yes, sir." I nodded quickly, grateful for another day of reprieve. I closed my eyes briefly, tired already from the effort. I hoped Master didn't mind me taking a moment to rest.

***

I woke sometime later nestled in the soft bedcovers, surprised I was still here. It wasn't often he allowed me to stay on the plush mattress. I must have passed out after bringing him to pleasure, and he hadn't bothered to wake me. I wanted to stay there, but I knew he'd be upset if he returned, and I was still there.

An insistent banging thudded, and I realized what must have roused me.

"Kye! Wake your lazy ass up!" The pounding grew more insistent.

Samuel. I suppose he was bringing me my breakfast again, since I wasn't allowed to leave the room without Master's permission. I'd actually tried to escape, when I first learned what he expected of me: a concubine, a whore. Discipline. Silence. Control.

I'd been terrified, miserable, when I'd first arrived here. I didn't understand what he'd wanted when he'd yell 'Control!' at me, whip me, but then embrace me possessively outside of the room. When I cried, Master would hit me with the cane. When I screamed as he tore into me, he would choke me. When I tried to run, he nearly killed me. Then he reminded me of my mother—sick, needing food and medicine—that my service contract was paying to help her and my father with their new life in town.

It was then I knew I had no control over my life anymore. I wasn't just in his service; he owned me. He wanted a 'lover', an amorato, someone pretty he could have next to him when it pleased him, and yet also someone he had total mastery of. That was me. This was my life.

"Kye!"

It took extreme effort and a few silent tears to drag myself up out of my cozy nest. I reached for the old brocade robe Master had given me. It was one of the few pieces of clothing I had, other than a couple of tunics and leggings. Unless master was taking me out with him—then he dressed me up in silk shirts and soft cotton trousers.

However, even the soft robe felt rough on my back and standing shot a spike of pain up my spine, causing my stomach to roil. I managed to stumble to the door, wiping at the tears staining my face with my hand. Controlling my breathing, I slipped on my mask of indifference, the mask of an amorato.

I cracked open the door, looking up at the brunet. He was probably only a year or so older than I was, maybe nineteen, but he was bigger. Most people were bigger, so that wasn't much of a surprise. He was new to the manor though. I'd enjoyed watching him, even when he looked at me askance.

"'Bout fucking time," Samuel snapped, shoving a tray through the opening. Bread, cheese, and an apple—my meal for the day, unless Master offered me more later. He said small meals kept me thin like he preferred. I guessed it didn't matter. It's not like I did much anyway.

"I've got better things to do than to wait on your lazy ass all day."

His words hurt. Because, hell, I'd much rather be out there doing something else, anything else. I was a prisoner in these rooms. He just didn't know that. He and most of the staff saw me as Lord Barrett's lover, his beloved amorato, not his slave. Lord Barrett feigned affection and devotion outside of this room.

Inside was a different story. He was my master, controlling everything.

So, I suppose, I couldn't fault Samuel, or Alisha, or James, or Gregory, or any of the others, for their attitude toward me. All they saw was a young man, one of their peers, being coddled and doted on by their lord, when they had to work for their keep. They didn't know how I earned my keep. And I didn't want them to.

I nodded my thanks as I took the tray. I wasn't supposed to speak to anyone unless the marquis gave his permission. If he found out, well...

"Can't even bother with a thank you, huh?" Samuel scoffed with a frown.

There was nothing to say to that, so I simply closed the door. I heard him muttering about the "Godsdamn, egotistical, self-righteous whoreson," before his footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

Yes, that was me. The Godsdamn whore. Egotistical, not really. Hopeless, damaged, broken...probably.

Be strong. Be good.

***

I set the tray down before I dropped it, my arm trembling from aching muscles. I dropped the robe from my shoulders as I headed for the washroom, drawing the furnace-heated waters into the bath.

As I leaned over the large tub, my back felt like it cracked open as partially healing welts split open from the stretch. I slowly sat in the tub, hissing as pain spiked up my tailbone and tears streaked down my cheeks.

I sank down in the warm water, allowing the heat to soften my skin. I slowly stretched my muscles, testing my range of motion. I laid back in the tub, resting my neck against the edge so I could let my back and thighs soak for a while.

My mind wandered at the opulence of the room—the dark stones, huge tub, heated running water at the pull of a chain. This was the kind of luxury that Tareth had dreamed of when he'd wished to become an aristocrat, I was sure of it. I remember being enchanted myself when I first saw the magnificent house. That image became tarnished quickly the first time my blood stained the polished floor.

I wanted to be back in the little house with my parents and Tareth. I wanted to go back seven years, to a simpler time, when I was ten, and didn't have to worry about keeping still, or quiet, or upsetting anyone but father. I hated the day all that changed. The day that man showed up looking for an apprentice groom to contract services for.

"I saw papa talking with one of those lords from town yesterday," Tareth said as we took a break under the shade of a tree.

"Why do you think papa was talking with one?" I finally asked, turning to look over at him with a small frown.

Tareth shrugged, rolling his head on his arms and piercing me with his dark blue eyes. I was so envious of his eyes, mine were so pale compared to his.

"I don't know. I've heard some of those blue-bloods are investing in some of our crops. Maybe he's going to help papa out." I could hear the hint of hope in his voice. He wanted to leave, to experience the nobles' world.

"BOYS!" We both heard my father's voice and sat up abruptly. I wondered what I'd done wrong now and glanced at Tareth with fearful eyes.

"It's fine, Kye," Tareth soothed as we both stood up to head to the house. Father met us at the back door.

Papa grunted. "Come in. We have a visitor who's looking for help."

Both Tareth and I looked at each other in surprise. Papa was going to let Tareth go work in town?

I followed my big brother inside where a regally dressed gentleman was standing, talking pleasantly with my mother. His smile was broad and gentle, dark cocoa waves streaked with gray falling across his forehead. I hardly noticed much more, though his attire screamed noble.

"My Lord, these are my boys, Tareth and Kye," my father introduced.

"Hello, sir," Tareth greeted eagerly. I could see his eyes were wide with admiration.

My "Hello, sir" was much quieter, and I couldn't bring my gaze up to meet his assessing stare.

My father stepped between us. "As I was saying, I thought Kye here would be very helpful—"

My chin shot up in shock to my father. He wanted me to go work for this man? My open-mouth gaze looked back at the man, wondering what I could possibly do to help him.

The nobleman frowned, apparently not liking the looks of my small stature. Even at ten, I was small in comparison to other boys my age. Mama said I took after her. I'm not sure I liked that much. I wanted to be bigger like Tareth.

"I'm sorry," the man stated, turning his attention back to my father. "I believe you may have misunderstood my needs when we spoke in town earlier. I need a young man to train as a groom, someone willing to work hard—"

My father squeezed my shoulders, pulling them back to make me stand up straight. Like that was going to make me any bigger. "Oh, Kye is definitely a hard worker."

The man's dark eyes narrowed. He flicked an odd glance at my father and then Tareth, before settling back on me. "I'm sorry, but he's much too young. Bring him to me in three or four years...unless you have another offer..." he trailed off, his gaze settling on Tareth.

My father adamantly shook his head. And that's when I realized just how much more papa loved Tareth. I loved Tareth with all my heart, yet sometimes I wished to have papa look at me with the pride he often bestowed on my brother.

"Very well. Thank you for your time." The noble's heavy boots thudded as he turned toward the door. As he pulled it open, I could see two others outside, still on horseback, much younger than the man before me, boys really—maybe his sons based on the similarities. As his broad shoulders disappeared through the door, I heard mama's small whine of panic.

She grabbed at papa's arm. "Issac, he was our best chance. What will we do now? We won't be able to make it through the winter."

What? Tareth and I both stared at our distraught parents. I was still working out what was going on, when Tareth stepped toward to our father.

"Papa, what does mama mean—'he was our best chance'?"

Our father sighed heavily. "The count was asking in town for a young groom, possibly a valet. He was willing to pay handsomely for contracted service. It would have been enough for a few years, to help get the farm back on track."

Tareth's blue eyes widened. "Then why can't I go? I'm old enough. He even implied as much."

"No!" Papa snapped, "I need you here."

"But you don't need Kye," Tareth retorted angrily. "I can do more for the family by going to work for him. You know I can. I want to go. Please..."

Papa's hesitation was all it took before Tareth raced out the door, calling out to the noble before the man could leave. The count had just remounted his stallion and was turning down the path.

"Sir! Sir, will I be acceptable?" Tareth asked. "I'm older than Kye, and I'd work hard for you, sir."

A small smile lit the man's face. "Yes, I believe you would. You understand that I am purchasing your service. You will work for me, and your monthly pay will go to your father until you are of age."

"Yes, sir." Tareth nodded eagerly.

The man's gaze cast back over Tareth to my parents now standing in the doorway. "The same offer stands, if both he and you are willing."

For a moment, I thought papa was going to object, but Tareth turned a pleading eye to him. "Please, papa. I want to go. I could learn so much. And it will help you as well."

"The boy would be schooled with my other young servants. His service contract would last until his 17th birthday, whereupon he can choose to stay in my household or leave."

My own heart beat wildly. Four years. Tareth would be gone for four years. I didn't want Tareth leaving me. Who would keep me safe from papa's ire? Who would I swim with? Who would I huddle against in thunderstorms?

But Tareth looked so excited. I wanted him to be happy.

"Yes," Papa finally agreed. "If Tareth is willing to go."

"Very well." The nobleman turned his horse back to my father. He tossed down a small pouch that rattled with coins. "Here's your son's first pay." Then he turned to Tareth. "Be in town at the inn by mid-morn tomorrow with your things. We head back to my estate shortly thereafter."

Tareth nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

"Row, Ash, let's go," he called over his shoulder to his sons, his eyes bright with tenderness.

Tareth was bouncing excitedly as I watched the three leave. The man who was going to take Tareth away from me talked animatedly to his boys as they trotted away. They looked happy, comfortable with their father as they laughed easily together.

I cast my eyes at papa, whose mouth was set in a firm, grim line. He wasn't happy at all. I knew it was because he was losing his strongest, most able son. I'd never measured up to his expectations like I'd wanted to. But maybe someday, I could be helpful like Tareth was.

That night, I'd cried. I couldn't control my tears as Tareth embraced my shaking body on our small pallet in the corner of the cottage. He'd tried soothing me, telling me he'd write, he'd visit, yet I knew he might not be able to. He even promised to come back for me when his contract was up. He'd be seventeen then and I'd be fourteen. He'd promised. I just had to listen, keep quiet and out of papa's way. Be good. Be strong.

But I hadn't seen him again.

Then it had been my turn, to help mama and papa like Tareth had. At least, I finally could make papa happy. Mama was sick, and papa had found another noble willing to purchase the farm so they could move into town where she could be taken care of better. And the marquis was also willing to offer a contract for me as a personal servant, even though I was so small. Oh, I had some muscle after working the farm; however, it only made me look lean and wiry instead of big and muscular. The man hadn't seemed to care. I hadn't liked his leering stare, but papa hadn't seemed to notice. He'd eagerly accepted the service contract that would provide them a monthly income, since without the farm they had nothing left.

Three years ago. Papa and mama had moved to town where he worked at the inn for extra income as well. I'd been told the money Lord Barrett sent them for my 'services' each month paid for my mother's care, medicine, and part of their rent. At least I had that bit of knowledge—that my sacrifice was saving my mother.

It somehow seemed like I'd been with Master so much longer than three years though. Probably because I hadn't really been happy since Tareth had left me.

I only hoped that he was happy, that his lord, his master, had been kind to him and kept his promise to teach him.

I wanted to forget what mine had taught me.