part 6

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Wilbur carefully took the book back, reading over it a couple of times as he felt his gut twist into knots at the answer. He could barely imagine sleeping on stone or hay, and the fact that Tommy had gone through that made him feel sick. Tommy had been nothing but sweet since he arrived, nothing but endearing and pure. He didn’t have any Malicious intentions, Wilbur would be able to see it in his eyes or body language if that was the case. Wilbur’s brows furrowed as he reread it again, frowning deeply. "

No wonder you ran away…. That-“ he looked up at Tommy, “that is far from ok, I- gods, I’m surprised you didn’t run sooner, that sounds awful….“ he says softly, gently setting the notebook on the side table.

Wilbur looked back towards Tommy’s face, dread sinking further in his stomach as he took in the boy’s expression. He seemed unbothered by the confession. He was that used to the treatment, and seemed to be more comforting Wilbur than himself. That all was telling, and not in a good way. He breathed in, looking over at Tommy, “Tommy, how long have you been there for…?” He asked slowly, somewhat dreading the answer. He said he didn’t always work for Shlatt, which at least meant he didn’t spend his entire life in those conditions. But, he still probably spent a while there…

Tommy furrowed his eyes a bit, letting himself go into thought. Surely he hadn't always been a servant his whole life. Once he had a normal childhood. A boy with a family. Not friends, he wasn't one to really get along with people back then, due to how loud or annoying people found him. Another reason, he didn't like talking. He tried to think of what it was like, his home. A small cottage at the end of the street, with a simple thatched roof and small rooms. It wasn't much but it was nice. His mothers smile and fathers horse. Trying to re-imagine it, had him puzzled for a moment.

Surely, he could remember right? That exact day? Tommy thought he'd never forget it. When the sickness came, and he was left alone with nothing but a pendant and chain. He moved his fingers as if he was beginning to count, looking a bit odd at them. Finally, he had his answer. He knew how long, or approximately how long anyways, he had lived with Shlatt. Taking the book off the side table he wrote the number.

To a normal adult, it wouldn't be long. But he was barley fifteen So, the number he wrote would be an odd one. 'Nine. Maybe eleven? I lost count'  he tried to think of the many years, counting by winters and summers. But he wasn't sure. He was very young when he started working alone. All he knew, was it had been close to a decade. Ten years. 'Why you ask Wilbur?' He set the book back, open to be seen as he dangled his feet on the side of the bed.

Wilbur sat down by Tommy as he contemplated the question, slightly messing with the unlit lantern on the side table. The fact it was taking tommy this long was telling about how long he had been subjected to that kind of treatment. It wouldn’t just be a few years, someone would remember that. It would have had to be a majority of Tommy’s life, then. That thought was confirmed as he looked over and saw the answer.

He looked horrified, eyes going wide at the answer. “About ten years then….” He mumbled, staring off. Tommy couldn’t have been over seventeen, probably more along the lines of 14-16 at that. He would have had to be taken in at maybe 7 if he was being generous. Wilbur couldn’t fathom the idea of spending that long working for someone in that bad of conditions.

"And you’ve never had a bed there? I-“ he frowns, trying to contain his anger at the types of people who would do that to a kid. Contain his anger at Shlatt.

He noticed the question written on the paper, humming. “I… Let’s just say I care a bit more about our servants than most nobles and lords. It twists my gut to know you were treated like that. And that I didn’t do anything to stop that, I- I’ll make sure your treated properly here.” He promised, looking up at tommy.

Tommy listened to his words. Shaking his head at the part about having A bed. His smile remained on his face as he couldn't make it leave. He truly did hope Wilbur would be kinder.

Sure, everyone of the people tommy had met before seemed kind at first. And always turned after a week into their normal selves. Showing they weren't who he thought, making him grow trust issues. But the prince of the kingdom he lived in, didn't show any signs of lying or trying to be sneaky about it. He showed a face of genuine care for him.

In return, Tommy told himself he'd do everything in his power and will to make the prince happy. As long as he could, he'd serve faithfully and true. Never lying or stealing.

Wilbur nodded at the answer, frowning gently. The very thought of someone so young going through that made him feel sick to his stomach. He gently ruffles Tommy’s hair, smiling. “Your a good kid. Get some rest, yeah?” He said, standing up to head out.

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