22. NOWHERE TO HIDE
Chapter twenty-two
NOWHERE TO HIDE
The night prior to the introduction, Emeriel, having finished his work in the minefield, waited in the shadows concealed from sight in the woods, his back pressed against a tree, casting his gaze upon the river. He longed to take a bath, but he needed everyone to depart first.
Given that the fortress housed numerous slaves with only one river allocated for their ablutions, there was always a slave or two present at any given time of the day. Leading most slaves to pay little heed to privacy, joining others in the river, and attending to their own needs.
Usually, Emeriel waited until nighttime or even midnight to secure the river for himself. Yet, tonight proved particularly challenging, for news of the impending introduction of slaves had reached everyone.
His heart skipped a beat at the reminder. Emeriel had yet to recover from hearing the announcement the day before. Observing the excited commotion of the bathing slaves, he found, unlike him, most seemed elated about the introduction.
Emeriel thought back on what Martha, one of the slaves he worked alongside in the minefield, had said earlier in the day as they worked.
"If you capture the attention of a lord, he may issue a decree to purchase you, do you not know? He could make you his personal slave. No more arduous labor, no more harsh beatings. You would be elegantly dressed like a mistress and solely serve a lord! Oh, how I yearn for a lord to choose me!"
Emeriel pondered the idea, his eyes fixed upon the night sky. The stars clustered above as the half-moon radiated its beauty. Would it truly be so terrible if a lord selected him?
He scoffed at the thought. If the lord happened to be interested in men—which Emeriel was not—he would be so disappointed afterward that he might order Emeriel's execution, would he not?
Even assuming that did not transpire, Emeriel could not bear the notion of his life revolving around spreading his legs, being used for carnal pleasure by a random Urekai day after day. His entire existence narrowed to that.
The rustle of leaves on the ground alerted him to someone's presence nearby. Looking up, he relaxed upon seeing Aekeira walking towards him.
His sister offered a gentle smile, which he reciprocated, concealing his worries behind the smile so as not to burden Aekeira.
"The river is gradually emptying," Aekeira remarked, closing the distance between them.
"What are you doing here?" Emeriel scanned their surroundings, momentarily apprehensive that a Urekai soldier might chance upon them and reprimand Aekeira for straying too far from the southern wing.
"Do not fret; Madam Livia granted me permission. I wish to bathe with you tonight." Aekeira settled beside him.
"You have a splendid bathing setup in your chambers, Keira," Emeriel sighed. "That room is the sole luxury afforded to you as the beast's service slave, and you should revel in it to the fullest. You should not be here."
"Oh, hush. I desire to bathe together, just like old times when we engaged in countless mischievous exploits." Aekeira's smile widened. "Do you recall when we used to go scavenger hunting in King Orestus's garden?"
Unbidden, a smile spread across Emeriel's face. How could he forget? "He would grow so furious his face turned red. It was always entertaining to witness his changing complexion."
"Those were the good old days."
"Then, we would venture into the woods and engage in pretend battles all day long," Emeriel added.
"Mama worried herself sick searching for us on one occasion. I was never proud of that."
"Likewise. But we were children." Emeriel glanced at his sister. "I miss Mom."
Aekeira's smile turned sorrowful. "As do I. I am certain she resides in the heavens, watching over us and keeping us safe."
No, Emeriel was not certain of that, so he remained silent.
The uncertainty reflected on his sister's face as well.
All those teachings under the moonlight about departed loved ones watching over and safeguarding the living—Emeriel was beginning to perceive the falsehood in those claims.
Surely, if their parents truly watched over them, they would have encountered at least a modicum of luck in this cruel fate they shared, right?
"Regarding the introduction..." Aekeira's voice interrupted his thoughts. "...I heard not everyone will be compelled to undress. The lords will handpick those who catch their eye and disrobe them. Who knows, they may never choose you. Or perhaps the lords will be hesitant to select a male?"
Emeriel emitted another snort. "Urekai does not conceal their desires for whom they want to mount, be it male or female. You know that. I am more concerned for you, Kiera. I do not wish for you to suffer any further."
"I am not worried about myself. It is you I fear for. I am terrified of what will transpire in that court tomorrow." Silence enveloped them thereafter.
"Come now, everyone has departed. Let us bathe," Aekeira declared, extending her hand, which Emeriel accepted.
Together, they made their way towards the river.
Aekeira remained on high alert throughout their bath. Although Emeriel spent most of the time with his body submerged in the river, only his head above water, Aekeira positioned herself protectively, always shielding him from anyone’s view.
They stood in front of the court, clad in the slaves's formal attire. A short, fitted dress that barely reached their knees.
Gathered on one side of the enormous court, their eyes fixed on the lords seated around the round table, a lavish feast spread before them.
The table was adorned with an abundance of flowers, and some lords had brought their own slaves, made to dine at their masters' feet, wearing unique collars around their necks.
Emeriel gazed at the Urekai Grand High Court, awestruck and horrified. He had never seen so many lords gathered before.
All were dressed elegantly, yet their eyes held a glimmer of hatred and cruelty as they stared at the humans before them.
The herald announced the entrance of the grand lords, prompting everyone to stand and those already standing to straighten. The imposing doors swung open, and the trio entered.
Cloaked in their customary white garments, their flowing fabric exuded grace, adorned with gold embroideries, adding to their majestic appearance.
The irony did not get past Emeriel. These males donned pristine white robes, yet their hearts were as dark as coal.
They took their seats on their thrones before the crowd followed. As they settled, the esteemed Lord of Ceremonial Affairs stood, commanding attention as he addressed the high court.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today we assemble not only for our customary banquet ceremony but also to mark the auspicious occasion of introducing and unveiling the new slaves the Urekai have acquired over the past year. This gathering is a testament to the continuity of our traditions and the expansion of our noble household. As we partake in this joyous event, let us celebrate the prosperity and growth of our realm."
Nods of agreement rippled through the crowd as the lord resumed his seat. Another lord rose to continue, and Emeriel's mind drifted. His nerves overwhelmed him, his mouth felt dry, and his palms were sweaty.
The binding cloth wrapped around his chest today was exceptionally tight, meant to really flatten his breasts under the single tunic that was not loose-fitting.
Aekeira's hand covered his. He looked at her, finding comfort in her nervous smile. Despite his fear for his sister's well-being, her presence beside him provided solace.
"Let the feast begin!" the voice announced, drawing Emeriel back to the present. Heads nodded in agreement, and applause filled the hall. Things seemed to be going well—so far, no one has summoned any slave. Perhaps it would only get better—
"You, you, and you," a lord's voice boomed, his finger pointing at three slaves simultaneously. "Strip."
The slaves stepped forward and began to undress. Emeriel swallowed his nervousness, his hands squeezing Aekeira's for support.
Another lord joined the chorus of commands. "You there, with the wavy auburn hair. Step forward. Undress." His tone was cruel, his gaze cold and assessing.
The auburn-haired slave obeyed, her steps hesitant but dutiful as she moved into the center of the hall. Her tunic slipped from her shoulders, baring her nakedness to the room.
It didn’t stop. The demands came like a torrent.
"Show me your back."
"Turn around slowly."
"Let me see if you’re worth keeping."
More slaves were called, and more clothing was shed.
Some lords preferred to issue their commands from their seats, watching with calculating eyes. Others rose and prowled like predators, inspecting the slaves as if they were cattle at the market.
Hands reached out, groping flesh, lingering on breasts, gripping backsides. The inspection left no part untouched. If the lords liked what they felt, they commanded the slave to undress.
The hall was soon filled with feasting and "celebration.". Naked bodies knelt before their masters, forced to provide oral pleasure while jeering laughter filled the air. Others were laid bare across the round table, hands roaming over their exposed skin like vultures picking at carrion.
Some were bent over, Lords taking them from behind. A few were ordered onto the podium, their trembling forms commanded to dance to the applause of the crowd.
Emeriel couldn’t look away, though every fiber of his being wanted to. Abhorrent. He clung to Aekeira, so nervous he thought of nothing else.
As the night wore on, the once-crowded group of slaves standing in presentation thinned until only a few remained. Exposed. Nowhere to hide.
And then it happened.
Grand Lord Zaiper’s gaze locked on Emeriel, sharp as a hawk’s. The grand lord’s finger rose, pointing unerringly at him. "The boy. Undress."
Emeriel’s world tilted, his pulse roaring in his ears.
Unlike others who had to raise their voice to be heard, the grand lords spoke their commands in a steady tone, but its weight silenced the hall. Every eye turned toward him.
He couldn’t move. His feet felt like they’d grown roots, anchoring him to the spot. His heart pounded so violently it was a wonder no one could hear it. His gaze darted around the room, searching for a way out, but there was none.
"What are you doing?" hissed the slave beside him. Her voice was sharp, urgent. "Do you want to lose your head? Move forward and undress!" Her whisper felt like a lash, jolting him from his paralysis.
Emeriel didn't want to offer his head on a platter for the lords to feast upon, so his legs found their strength, and he strode forward.
In the open, his trembling fingers reached for the hem of his tunic, and he began to undress.