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The part of the gardens of Arles that was assigned to slave were the most peaceful place they could be. It was where they spent their free time, which was at that moment either too much or too little. Erasmus had waited so much to be able to serve, it must have been his high standards that made him a bit disappointed. The Veretians weren't like the masters at home. They were - and it was hard for him to even think about his owners like that but - too strict. Or for him at least.
He failed once and he was determined not to make that mistake again but he suffered by the burning, he didn't needed reminder by violent men. His felt bad after that, his First Night taken away so easily. Other slaves argued that in Vere it meant little to everyone.
In that early evening he was dressing up after washing the mud off of himself. He was dragged back to this arbour from another afternoon spent at a leash, guarded by a little, blue-earringed boy.
He was surrounded by slaves getting ready for whatever these royals wanted them. Then movement in the garden was stopped. He didn't have to turn he was - for a moment - facing the crown prince. The whip was unnecessarily clashed through the air. Everyone was on their knees immediately, head touching the ground.
Erasmus heard the man guarding them ask the prince with nervousness and annoyance poorly hidden. The prince answered the man with cool indifference. There was silence than the prince was talking, his manner superior. The man with a whip clearly grew more uncomfortable but was willing to do what the prince asked him.
Erasmus didn't expected to be dragged up, body not nearly strong enough to be able to balance. He was terrified for a moment, then shame filled him, burning shame as the man grabbed his dress and showed the burn-marks to the prince.
He would be cast out. He wanted to cry. Maybe he did deserve violent man taking him, who were not his owner. It was what he was ought to suffer through.
The prince dismissed the man quite harshly who put him down more firmly. Erasmus went back to his knees and started to lean down to be able to kiss his boots, when the prince spoke.
"Stop." It was in Akielon and he froze. "Look at me." Erasmus obeyed, sitting back on his heels. The prince spoke Akielon. Maybe his own slave was teaching him some.
It was hard to look directly at the man, he looked angry. His lips were pressed together, his body language aloof and tense. He, however, couldn't look away. The prince wanted him to look at him.
"What's your name?" The prince was a beautiful man. His face was sharp with the arrogance he put upon it, but his eyes were searching and curious. He was a young man, maybe interested in his bed slave's origins.
"Erasmus, Exalted" he answered. He knew some man preferred straight-forwardness and honesty as much as a slave could go. And then there were man who thought they preferred truth. His voice was even and he tried to hide his previous embarrassment with an open look.
His answered made the prince smile, his lips twitched upwards. Erasmus flushed, he hoped he was entertaining not pitiful.
"How did your leg get scarred, Erasmus?" His slight accent could be heard as he pronounced his name. It was something he never imagined he would hear. He was trained for his prince, not the Veretian. He should start to think of the Veretian as his prince too.
"I was put to a test, Exalted. I failed," he admitted now shame colouring his cheeks.
"They burnt you?" His voice was rawer than it was a moment before, the change was small but he could detect it. Erasmus turned his gaze away and nodded.
"Look at me." Erasmus did not understand why he insisted on this, but he was back to his honeyed voice. "You are not treated right."
That was the first moment he wondered if this was another test. It wasn't a question, still he knew he had to react to it. The prince was friendly but maybe he just wanted him to pass. That would fit into the picture he had of the prince.
"It was a punishment, Exalted." The prince stepped closer, his finger tentatively brushed through his curls.
"You don't have Akielon colouring that much," he noted seemingly out of context. It was Erasmus's speciality, although it seemed childish and arrogant to say that.
"It's exotic, they prefer it in Akielos. Exalted." He dared to look up this time, the prince's long, thin finger still tangled in his locks. The prince was smiling again and it almost broke Erasmus's heart to see how sad that was.
"When should people receive punishment, Erasmus?" he hummed, stepping closer, voice quiet. He didn't understand the question.
"I'll ask differently," the prince smiled warmly. "Should you receive a punishment if you fail a test or should the punishment be the test?"
Erasmus inhaled the scent of the prince's cloths, he was standing so close leaning down to him, golden hair falling down.
"Do you understand it?" His voice was barely above whisper now. No one could hear them. He realised it was a test, but a test of his honesty. The prince was a man who preferred the realness instead of the act. He nodded slowly. The prince's fingers left his hair.
"I need you to do something for me, Erasmus." He was purposefully using his name now and then to have his undivided attention. "There's going to be a big...," he looked away as a man looking for words, "festival. There is going to be fire." Erasmus was scared for a moment. "You will be dragged to it. You will have to face it." His voice became hard and caring. "But it won't be in vain. If you are brave," he looked deep into his eyes. "If you can bear it just for a few minutes you'll be rewarded."
It made no sense that the prince wanted to give him something when he failed the first time. Except, the prince was truly the kindest one in the court. He wanted to smile too, now.
"You won't be hurt. Fire won't touch you. It will only look like that." Erasmus nodded again. He was afraid but he was strong enough to do it. He had to, for his prince.
"Yes, Exalted. I'm glad to serve you," he said blushing. For a moment it seemed that the prince's cheeks pinked too. The intimate seconds were over. The prince stepped back, straightened his back into his graceful position and called over the guard. They talked. Erasmus did not bowed again to the ground. He knew now, that this man did not need full submission in order to be able to create by the power that he possessed. Erasmus smiled to himself as the man with the whip walked the prince out.