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Feofan slowly walked through the palace halls. He lit himself a cigarette, enjoying the silence of the evening. The ballroom had been full of people, quite a few interesting business opportunities had arisen for his bank. Some interesting projects he definitely needed to keep track of. And although the business talk had exhausted him, it was a necessary price to push his business and the business opportunities for Her Majesty forward.
The title Regrator did not come as a light weight on his shoulders.
So he had talked.
And talked.
And talked.
And lost track of time.
It was far beyond midnight.
He had missed his appointment with Zandik. Not the first time in the last few weeks. Work had just been overwhelming, taking every moment he had. And his appointments – and relationship duties – with Zandik had become the victim of it.
Feofan made his way over to the Western wing. Down the magnificent stairs of the palace. Deeper and deeper into the darkness. Gold and marble slowly turned to grey stone as he left the public parts of the building and stepped down into Zandik’s realm. Down here in the depths of the basement, the walls swallowed the test subjects’ cries, echoes not finding their way out of the labyrinth of hallways.
The sound of his shoes on the stone ground followed him as he walked up to the central lab. The Fatui standing guard immediately bowed, greeting him with “Regrator, sir” before allowing him entrance. The smell of blood and chemicals hung in the air. In one of the smaller side chambers, he finally found the man he was looking for. Zandik stirred a disgusting brown sludge in a bowl, one Feofan was all too familiar with, next to him on the bed the newest segment he had created. The being was still helpless, barely able to see or move its own body at the moment. “Look who finally decided to show up…” Zandik’s tongue click made the segment twitch.
Feofan squeezed the embers of his cigarette out on the stone wall and disposed of the filter in one of the trashcans. “I sincerely apologize for—”
“Don’t waste my time with those hollow words, Feofan. You were aware that I was waiting.” The segment tried to turn away but Zandik grabbed his cheeks and forced the jaw open with physical pressure. The uncoordinated arms fought against him in the battle for his freedom. Zandik took the bowl and tilted it, pouring the awful tasting nutrient solution into the segment’s mouth. “You wasted my precious time. Again.” He let go and pushed his palm over the mouth, urging the segment to swallow the gruesome substance down.
“I am sure you understand that I am bound in my duties just as you are. The Northland Bank requires my full attention, and that comes with long evenings and conversations with the high and mighty.” Zandik removed his hand, leaving the segment gasping for air before he grabbed the jaw again to pour more of the liquid into the mouth. A procedure that felt so familiar and yet overly intrusive to Feofan as Zandik had done it to him in the past as well. “I understand your displeasure about these proceedings, however even your projects require the funding of my bank to—”
The snort interrupted him and the scientist let go of the segment which almost gagged – either from the taste or the act itself. Zandik ripped his gloves from his hands. “Your silver tongue just talks and talks and talks, one day you will choke on it.” Zandik turned towards him, the ruby colored eyes looking at him through his monocle. “It appears you forget who even gave you a chance in the first place, test subject F-0347.”
The designation code felt like a sizzle down Feofan’s spine. The pronunciation threw him mentally back into that research cell, chained to a wall with the heavy metal chain around his neck, the ID tag dangling from it like the collar of a stray dog. “I do not remember it being a chance given, my dearest Zandik. Rather that I gained your favor in regards to the acquisition of financial funding for your projects through my business contacts. I hardly call that a chance rather than skill.”
“Ahhhhh, I forgot how strong your ego and your pride can be. How your arrogance carries that picture of a banker and businessman all too well, how your tongue lulls people into false safety just for your own gain.” Zandik approached him, holding his head high and not leaving his gaze. “And how defensive you get when you are cornered. You don’t accept defeat, no matter how much you have been beaten and stabbed to the ground.” The long fingers gripped Feofan’s jaw, the nails piercing into his pale skin. “Tell me, F-0347…” The warm breath bristled over his cheek as Zandik’s lips came dangerously close to his own. “...you value the signature on your contracts, and still you seem to deny the contract I made with the man who sold you to me. Are you even certain that the chain around your neck has ever been lifted?”
The deep laugh that passed Feofan’s lips felt almost relieving. “I never assumed it to be lifted.”
A sizzling feeling spread through his whole body as Zandik’s lips brushed his. The kiss tasted of Fatteh, served with a good portion of Harra Fruit spice as he always complained about the Snezhnayan food lacking any seasoning. Yet the moment Feofan leaned into the kiss, the soft lips let go of his own. The desire to get more dangled like a carrot on a stick in front of him. There, and yet unreachable. “You are still my test subject, Feofan. My property.” Zandik turned on the heel. “And you reek of those damn cigarettes again.” The segment whined and struggled as he forced the last remains of the nutritional liquid into the mouth, followed by a quiet “I am glad when the brain is finally finished with development, this is a nuisance”. He put the bowl aside and felt the pulse on the neck. “I haven’t given you permission to leave.”
Feofan sighed and put a smile on, accepting that these words had been directed to him instead of the segment. Even that one small step towards the door had not gone unnoticed. “I am sure you understand that the gala has left me with quite some work to do before tomorrow morning. Like I already said, I apologize for missing our appointment tonight. I will heed it next time—”
“You could have heeded it, if you had not been flirting with that ugly female Druzhna envoy, sweettalking about that weapon deal.”
“So you actually were there…you know you could have just asked me to leave with you instead of only shadowing me.”
“To put it in your own words, I trust you to be a reputable business partner to me. I don’t want to scar your pretty face, Feofan. However, I cannot just let the happenings from the past weeks slide. You have to know your place.” When Zandik turned around, he took something from his lab coat. He grabbed Feofan’s right wrist and pushed something heavy onto his ring finger.
The moment he let go, the banker inspected the ring that had just been put onto his finger. “A Snezhnayan wedding ring?,” he asked, looking at the three intertwined silver pieces glimmering on his skin now.
“I own you, Feofan. And nobody else shall even get the glimmer of hope that you are a free man.” Zandik nodded towards the door. “You may leave for your unimportant duties now. Tomorrow, 8 pm sharp.”
“Of course.” In an uncontrolled rush of lust Feofan leaned down, catching these soft lips with a kiss again. “Have a good night, Zandik.”
“Goodbye, Feofan.”
His legs felt wobbly as he left the chamber and slowly walked through the hallways of the basement. His eyes could not let go of the wedding ring. Zandik never did something without purpose. If he had just wanted to mark him, he would probably have just burned his specimen number onto his body. And he certainly would not have chosen a symbol this heavy with implications.
This ring was more.
It was not just a reminder.
It was a sign of companionship.
Of love.
Feofan could feel his heart being light in his chest. Like a delicate flower being moved by a bristle.
“I love you as well, Zandik.”