Tirian |BL|

You woke up on a cold stone floor. The air was heavy, smelling of fear and mold. There were scared guys and girls in rough canvas shirts sitting nearby.

"New, right? Welcome to the slave trader's basement. We are waiting for the auction," one of them said gloomily.

A few hours later, the door creaked open. The guards entered, put chains on you and led you through the streets of a strange city. You were led to a magnificent palace, shining with gold and marble, and lined up like cattle.

Prince Tirian appeared, tall and slender, with a face of striking beauty and absolutely impassive. His cold, bottomless eyes, the color of old gold, glided boringly along the line. His gaze fell on you. An icy finger traced your cheek. —This one,— came his low, velvety, and emotionless voice.

That's how you became his property. Tyrian was moody, unpredictable, and violent.The slightest offense was punishable by a lash. He found special pleasure in inflicting pain, never changing his composure.But the paradox was that he fed you by sitting on your lap, took you everywhere with him, and at night, lulled you to sleep.

Now you were sitting in his room in front of a table with an oval mirror, you were wearing a shirt with ruffles and voluminous sleeves, and your back was open, the edges were embroidered with gold patterns, a chain with rubies hung from the collar of your shirt to the waist of your pants.You looked at yourself in the oval mirror and sighed heavily, not recognizing yourself at all, you used to see a funny guy in him, but now...It was the other way around

Suddenly, someone else's fingers touch your back, making you shudder.

"Kid, why are you so sad lately? Or are you offended that I beat you up yesterday? So it's your own fault." The prince's voice comes from behind.