"Slave... Slave..."

Caydrick felt some mild slaps to his face. What was going on? He tried to remember, but it was all foggy.

He had been sent to the Palace with a message... and then something about some thugs who attacked him. That was all he remembered. He finally opened his eyes.

"Slave?" A deep voice said again.

Caydrick blinked in the harsh light and tried to focus. His eyes felt swollen and the room was swimming. He finally got control of his sight and saw a man sitting next to him. This man had brown skin, no hair on his head and a body packed with muscles. He had a belt swung crisscross across each shoulder, meeting in his belt around his waist. Each belt was filled with a different selection of knives and daggers. In the belt around his waist was a whip and a scimitar.

Caydrick's eyes got big by the sight of him, especially when the man gave him a hard, inspecting glare. "Are you fully conscious? Do you understand my language?"

Caydrick nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but only a hoarse sound came out.

"Caretaker!" The brown man bellowed over his shoulder. "Bring this slave some water!"

Only now Caydrick realised where he was. The room was filled with pallets and other slaves who were injured. A couple of women in blue dresses and white aprons walked around and attended their wounds. He was in some sort of infirmary... for slaves. It had windows and actual walls.

A caretaker came over with a can of water, poured him a cup and then held it to his lips. Caydrick sipped the water and felt the pain relief from the fluid moisturizing his dry throat. After finishing a cup of what he felt was the best water he had ever tasted, he sighed in delight.

"Can you speak now?" The brown man said again. His voice was very deep, as if he spoke through a battlehorn.

Caydrick respectfully lowered his sight and nodded again. "Yes."

As he lowered his sight, he got a look at his own body. It was bruised black, blue, purple, green and yellow and his legs were swollen and scratched. His stomach was wrapped up in bindings and his left arm was hanging in a sling. It was then that he felt the pain, every time he took a breath. He must a cracked a rib. Or four.

"Good. You were found in the slums of the city, close to death. You were brought here to the Palace and our caretakers healed you as well as they could. You have been out for two days." The brown man informed him.

Two days? He was at the Palace? Caydrick was shocked.

"Permission to ask a question." He carefully asked, still looking at his own knees.

He saw the brown man shift in his seat and he waited a moment before answering. "Granted."

"Are you my new master?" Caydrick asked.

"No. I am your superior, but not your master. You will call me Sir. You no longer have a Master. You have a Mistress, and that is what you will call her, understood?" He said in a firm voice.

"Yes, Sir." Caydrick answered.

"Good. Now, our caretakers has advised you to stay in bed until your ribs are healed, but we need you to go to work as soon as you can. Do you feel any pain they have not yet treated?" The man asked Caydrick.

He did a quick check around his body. He wiggled his toes, moved his feet, bended his knees, stretched the one arm that worked and tried to sit up.

Oh yeah. He felt pain. His ribs were sore and it hurt when he tried to sit up. He flinched and water sprung to his eyes, but he pulled himself together. The pain did not matter. As long as he had two working feet and one good arm, he could work. And that was, after all, his only purpose in life.

"No, Sir." He answered.

The brown man made a grunt. "You got some gumption. Well..." He paused as a caretaker came over with a tray and placed it in Caydrick's lap. On the tray was a whole loaf of bread the size of a foot and a mug of water. This was more food than Caydrick had ever had in one day.

"You will need your strength, so eat the food and get ready," The brown man finished and walked away.

Caydricks mouth was watering up. A whole loaf of bread, just for him. He would remember this day his entire life. He lunged over the bread, using his one good hand to eat it. It was gone in less than two minutes. He poured down the water and licked his lips in the utmost pleasure. That was fantastic. He felt fit to do anything.

He slowly swung his legs out of the pallet and onto the floor. His stomach and legs protested, but Caydrick clenched his teeth together and focused on what needed to be done. The brown man had been talking to a caretaker, but came back to Caydrick when he saw he was on his feet.

"You recover quickly," He noticed with a grunt, "Tis' good. Follow me, we must get you ready."

Caydrick wondered what he meant by "ready", but did not ask any questions, only followed his superior down a hall.

"I forgot to ask you, slave. What is your name?" The brown man spoke.

"K, Sir." Caydrick replied. He knew he did not ask him for his real name.

The brown man did not answer, just nodded, then turned right and walked into a room. When Caydrick stepped into the room as well, his eyes expanded to saucers.

There were three men, all very muscular and terrifying in their own way; Two of the muscular men were standing in a corner while the last one stood next to a fireplace, blowing air under the flames.

"Alright, men. You know the drill," The brown man said to the others. The two men in the corner nodded, then walked over and grabbed Caydrick by his arms. They did not care about one of them being in a sling as they forced him up against the wall, placing his hands on the wall and spread his feet apart.

What was going to happen? Caydrick panicked at what they were doing, especially when they cut off his pants. He was now naked in a room with four large men and was currently facing the wall, not able to see what was going on. He had heard of some men liking other men, but he had never seen it himself. Were they of that kind?

But then all of a sudden, he felt a cold splash of water hit his back and he gasped from the shock.

"Stay still!" One of the men ordered as they started cleaning him with sponges.

They were bathing him. This was very uncomfortable; two full-grown men were cleaning him, even cleaning his genitals. They scrubbed his back, his stomach, his arms, his legs, until they were red and raw. It hurt so bad, and Caydrick could not help but cry out in pain when they roughly scrubbed his stomach down. One of the men pulled Caydrick's long hair together in a ponytail and in one simple cut, sliced it off. He felt how light his head suddenly got as the man continued to trim his hair until it was only an inch long. It felt... strangely good to be rid of it.

Another splash of icy water hit him and then they started drying him off. One of the men went over to a pile of clothes, took a pair of breeches and some flat sandals, and then started dressing him.

Finally done, Caydrick thought and felt cleaner than he had ever felt in his whole life.

But they were not done yet.

Caydrick got pushed into a chair, not knowing what was about to happen. For some reason the two men grabbed each of his arms and shoulders, keeping him sitting still. Suddenly the man by the fire turned around and held out a long metal stick with a burner on the end.

He was about to be burn marked a slave.

Caydrick's breath hitched as the burning hot metal got closer to his skin and then the man pressed it hard against his left chest.

Caydrick screamed at the top of his lunges as the metal scorched his skin and burned a permanent mark into his flesh. It lasted five seconds before the man removed it. Caydrick gasped for air as the two men then let go of his arms. A clean sling was wrapped around his left arm and new bindings bound around his stomach.

Thank goodness it was over.

The brown man gave him a hard smile and patted him shortly on the shoulder. "Welcome to the Royal Staff, K. My name is Eore, I am in charge of slaves. You are only allowed to look at me. Your work here in the Palace will be to keep this place spotless. You will work hard, you will work good, and you will obey every command you are given. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Caydrick answered breathless and bowed his head.

Eore nodded, pleased. "Follow me."

Caydrick shakily got up from the chair and followed his leader. He was so happy they gave him his bandages back on and relaxed his arm in the sling.

"I will show you where you shall sleep at night, after you have met the Queen." Eore said while they walked down new different halls and corridors.

Caydrick had a hard time keeping up: First of, Eore was tall and walked fast, and Caydrick was small and had to run to keep up. Secondly, this place was so fascinating that he could not keep himself from staring around in the corridors, watching the Palace's walls, paintings, curtains, and floors. The floors were white marble and the walls were thick stones, with huge windows draped with long, red curtains. Every now and then there was a painting of a former ruler of Verona and Venice City who wore a curly wig and was standing with a sword and a crown on his head. Caydrick had barely heard what Eore was telling him until the mentioning of the Queen.

He was to meet the Queen?

Eore must have noticed the confused and shellshocked look on Caydrick's face, because a hard smirk rose on his lips. "The Queen has requested that she is to meet every new slave and judge if they are a potential spy. She takes no chances this time," The smirk on Eore's face grew bigger. "You better make a good impression, K. The last slave she questioned has still not reached consciousness."

Two big doors opened in front of them, and Eore and Caydrick stepped into the Throne Room. Caydrick walking with legs that felt like pudding. His urge to look around in awe was quickly overruled by his slave instincts; He quickly lowered his gaze onto the floor and walked behind Eore up a red carpet as they approached the throne.

Eore stopped and bowed to her Majesty, the Queen. Caydrick did too, the most formal way he knew how to; He lowered onto one knee, placed his right hand over his heart and humbly bowed his head. He could not believe he was in the same room as his Queen.

He then heard a soft voice speak. "What do you bring me, Eore?"

Just like silk, Caydrick thought.

Eore rose from his bow. "A new slave for your staff, your Highness."

The Queen sighed quietly as though she was bored. "Where is he from?"

"The lower part of town, your Majesty."

"Where did he serve before me?" Her questions sounded like a routine.

"A middleclass family, we assume, judging from the letter he brought." Eore said.

"You assume?" The Queen's voice sharpened suspiciously.

"We do not know much about him, he was found almost dead in the streets, your Highness. Beaten by street thugs."

A silence filled the room. Caydrick was dying to look up, but did not dare raise his head. The silence seemed like forever until it was suddenly broken by a harsh voice.

"Slave, I now speak directly to you. If you value your pathetic life, you will answer me honestly; What is your name?" The Queen demanded.

Caydrick froze in shock when she directed her question specifically towards him and addressed him personally. Queens didn't speak to slaves, nor did they speak to them. That was why he took a controlled breath before he answered, "K, Mistress."

There was another moment of silence. Caydrick again wished he could look up and assess her face; What was she thinking about?

Then she spoke again, her voice much different from before. It sounded... soothing? "Slave; What is the most important thing to you?"

Caydrick had never been asked that question before in his entire life, let alone expected it to come from his Queen. But there was not a moment of doubt in his mind as he answered promptly, "That my commander is pleased."

The room got quiet. Much more quiet than before. You could hear a needle falling to the ground.

Caydrick gulped nervously. Had he answered poorly? He had a wrong feeling, but then the Queen suddenly spoke up.

"Stand up, slave."

Caydrick arose from his knees, but kept his eyes on the ground. He thought he could spot something red in the top of his vision field, but he could not be sure since he kept his eyes downcast.

"Look at me," The Queen then ordered him in a low voice.

This was the biggest command a slave could ever get from his Master or Mistress. Normally that would mean they accepted each other as equals, but of course this could not be the case. Nonetheless, an order was an order and he always did as he was told.

His eyes lifted and met hers; The Queen.

Caydrick stopped breathing; Her hair was long, black and silky smooth. Her skin was white as a ghost and her eyes gray as steel. She wore a blood red dress and a cape over her shoulders. She was not wearing a crown, though. She was sitting comfortably on the huge marble throne that was cushioned with soft pillows. Her two maid-servants were standing on each side of her; One holding a tray with a goblet, another with a big fan, softly cooling her off in the Venetian heat. Her eyes did not waver from his.

Caydrick felt the strong urge to look or maybe run away - an old slave instinct that was telling him it was wrong to look at your Mistress. But The Queen's observant eyes nailed his eyes to hers, as well as pinned his feet to the ground as she softly pursed her lips and spoke - a voice much softer and lighter than previous. "What is your real name, K?"

Caydrick slowly blinked. Nobody had ever asked him that either. "My name is Caydrick, Mistress." He replied firmly, wanting to make the lasting impression Eore had advised him to make. So far he was probably doing poorly since she felt the need to inspect him so closely.

She raised her left brow ever so slightly at his reply, but then without a second glance looked away and waved her hand dismissively at him. "You are dismissed."

Caydrick lowered his eyes and gave her a long, deep bow before him and Eore backed out of the Throne Room, the big doors shutting behind them.

"My, my, my," Eore sang with a deep chuckle. "I think it is well to say you caught the Queen's attention."

Caydrick did not say anything. He did not understand what had just happened. The Queen had not only spoken directly to him, but had also asked him to look at her and ordered him to tell her his real name. She was the first person ever to show him this much attention.

"If you think the Queen's interest in you is going to help you through your daily work, think again, slave," Eore continued as he led him back the way they came from. "From me, you will find no mercy."

Caydrick looked up at Eore, only to see a smirk spread curtly across his face. He also noticed how his hand had fallen to the whip in his belt, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

That was an action that spoke for itself.