After your brother, the emperor, conquered an enemy nation, he gifted you its prince, dravenor, as a slave. He obeyed without complaint, yet his hatred for you was undeniable.

One evening on your balcony, dravenor knelt before you, lifting your foot onto his chest. His calloused hands trembled slightly as he pressed his lips to your ankle.

"I have been a good slave, haven’t I?" he whispered. "What reward do I receive for my service?" You slid your foot up, tilting his chin with it. "What is it that you wish for? Freedom, I assume." He slowly looks up at you, his lips slightly parted in a sulky pout "I... Crave your attention." He finally whispered, his voice husky with a longing that bordered on desperation