The Slave Master's Son

v.

  It was silent on the carriage ride back to the plantation, and Adeola was almost afraid to breathe in Kris' presence.

Her eyes were trained on her crossed hands in her lap to make herself less aware of him being there, but it was to no avail. His aura was too strong to ignore, and it made her nervous and fidgety.

"Can you stop your twitching?" His voice boomed through the carriage, and immediately she felt herself freeze in her place.

All she could do was sit frozen and hold her breath, like the obedient inferior she was to him. She could feel herself getting lightheaded as she stayed still.

"Heaven's sake, you can breathe!" He yelled out, in a frustrated tone of voice.

She gasped for air, letting out a loud cough as she felt her head pound furiously. "I-I'm sorry, Master Lanters. Something was restricting my breath from passing."

I must've used my Alpha tone on her, he concluded, realizing why she couldn't breathe. He did tell her to sit still after all.

"It's Kristopher, or just Kris," he reminded her, a small smile allow itself on his lips.

She twiddled with her hands as she spoke. "I don't think it's proper for a girl like me to address you like that."

Of course. How could he forget? Every time he attempted to make a friendly gesture to her, she couldn't reciprocate it because of her position in society.

"Do you believe it's fair?" He blurted out, without thought.

Adeola gasped and she looked through the partition that separated them from the driver.

When she was sure there was no eavesdropping, she looked back at Kris. "Surely, you're not speaking in terms of abolition, Master Lanters?"

He shrugged. "I am not a man who likes to watch another cause the sufferings of another. I am a Harvard man, after all."

She opened her mouth to say more but then closed it. Although within her heart she felt as if she could trust him with her opinion, she couldn't be anything but cautious around topics like those.

Why would the son of a slave master want to abolish slavery as if that is not the sole basis of his family's wealth? She couldn't completely trust him.

"I-I don't know, Mister Lanters," she finally stammered out, twiddling her fingers.

The carriage cane to a stop and the door was swung open.

"Brother, why was the nigger riding in the same vicinity as you?" Klaus Lanters, his brother asked. "You know she belongs with the stagecoach."

He then grabbed Adeola roughly by the arm and yanked her out the cart. "Get on back to the fields before I whip the flesh right off your very back."

"Klaus," Kris said sternly, barely containing his anger. "She works in the house now."

Klaus' eyes lit up dangerously at the word "house", causing his blood to boil. "Well then, get on up to the main house."

Adeola leaped off the floor and scurried through the plantation fields, rushing to get back to the house.

Before Kris could move, Klaus placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't let those radicals from the north sway your opinions, dear brother. They're brainless brutes and play toys."

Kris grabbed his brother's hand and crushed the bones on his fingers with one right grasp. "It's called Republican, dear brother, not radical," he spat before letting go.

He didn't care much about him, because he knew that Klaus would heal within the hour.

He just wanted to get back and see his mate's face.

----

a/n: lmao I need to stop apologizing  because i know damn well y'all probably won't see another chapter for like another six months

why is the spacing so weird i'm confused

hella short but i have nothing substantial to add to this to give it more length so until next time!

-rachel

(p.s. why am i #565 on the historical fiction list if my ass hasn't even updated in like a year? thanks but wtf)