No Idea

“What?”

“Justin. It’s Justin.”

“What’s Justin?”

“Bosy’s …”

“You know Bosy’s new slave?”

He nodded. “We were … not friends. More like rivals, I guess.” Meer sighed and sat up. He played with the buttons on Ken’s shirt, not looking him in the eye. “Our families were allies. Our kingdoms shared a border. Justin and I are First Sons, heirs to be king.”

Ken gasped.

Meer smirked. “I know, right? Hence the irony of life, thing. Anyway. Our rivalry mainly stemmed from our birth status. Technically, we were the same rank, but Justin was a First Child, First Son, and I had eight older sisters. But I am older than he is. It seems stupid now, but then, it mattered a great deal. We competed in fairs and mock battles and for women.”

Meer stopped, finally met Ken’s eyes and then climbed off his lap. Ken followed him into the kitchen. “I always mocked him. Told him one day, he’d be my slave and he’d have to wash my feet while I sipped champagne from his family goblets.”

When he started making tea, Ke