The Prince and the Slave: Book One

The Prince and the Slave Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen 

William lay on his bed, his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling above him. He'd had a long evening and wasn't in the best mood. It had started at dinner, when Georgiana had announced that she would like a slave of her own...

“If William can have one why can't I?” she said bluntly, popping another bite into her mouth.

“Georgiana, if you want something to entertain you and to have to kick when you're in a bad mood why don't you just get a dog?” William threw across the table at her.

“Dogs aren't entertaining.” she replied. “And anyway, you try kicking a puppy.” she added sarkily.

“You try kicking a person – oh wait, you already have” William answered darkly.

“Oh not that again, Princey. You need to let it go” She said brightly. William rubbed his temples as he tried to convince himself not throw his knife at her...

It hadn't gotten much better as the evening drew on. His Mother had asked him to meet with her in her study. She said she had something to discuss with him, but the general gist of the conversation was that his parents were going to die, the Kingdom was going to crumble and it was all his fault.

According to his Mother, William had to find a wife and deliver an heir as soon as possible, or else they were all doomed. She'd even given him a list of the names of eligible young ladies who she deemed suitable to marry, but his Mothers view of 'suitable' was very different to his own – she had put Georgiana as one of her favourites!

“She isn't a blood relative, you know William” She had told him. Yes, we aren't blood relatives, thought William, but she probably has vials of it to drink hidden under her bed.

And if this wasn't bad enough, his Mother was trying to create a new law, which decreed that if he had not found a suitable wife by the time he turned twenty, he would be set an arranged marriage by his parents, the marriage to take place on his twenty-first birthday.

He sighed and closed his eyes. This day really can't get any worse, he thought bitterly to himself.

The only thing making him feel any better was listening to Abey singing away through the wall of the wash room. He had told her that morning to run herself a bath after her dinner, as his Mother had requested his presence and was likely to take a while; but he had left the meeting early, and had come back to the room while Abey was still enjoying her soak.

He listened as her carefree voice floated through the room. Even though she was not singing in any kind of refined way, William could tell she had a good voice. It seemed like she was simply making up the song she was singing as she went along, invented words that described what she was doing. He had come in when she was 'sitting in the bathtub, pretending I'm a mermaid', and as he listened now she was currently 'combing out my hair 'cos it's covered in knots. Ow that really hurt, I should be more careful'. He laughed at the untroubled silliness of her song writing and turned his thoughts away from Georgiana and his Mother, and over to her.

He had re-examined his feelings after his revelation the night of the storm, and in the stark light of day realised that he must have just been caught up in the moment, or the atmosphere, and that none of it was really real. At the end of the day, he was the Crown Prince of Angrakor, and she was a his slave. Nothing could ever happen between them, even if he wanted it to, which he didn't, or did he? His mind was confused and jumbled but he just had to keep repeating to himself that none of it was real.

So yes, I enjoy her company, and yes, I find her stunningly attractive, and yes, I wish that I could spend every minute of every day with her, but that doesn't mean anything! He tried to convince himself.