“It was the whore!”

Ka jerked awake, blinking groggily and looking around in confusion. He mumbled a faint ‘what’ and tried to focus on the ball of pale energy that was Prince Re as he crossed the room.

“During the sentencing,” the prince said, coming to stand right beside the other man. “That was when you disapproved. You made that arrogant, righteous little snort when I spared her the fields.”

“What?” Ka asked again. He rubbed his head slightly. “Are you still talking about that?”

“That woman was frail and weak. She was right, she would die before a year in the fields. Why do you scoff at my decision to save a woman’s life?!”

“Why do you deride her trade when it was exactly that which made you spare her?” Ka asked.

“I spared her for her sake, not mine. She didn’t even deserve that kindness,” Re spat in reply. “But if she has enough sense to please the king, at least she will live in comfort.”

Ka shook his head again. He reached for his goblet, taking a drink and not looking at the prince. “Why didn’t you spare the little girl then?”

“If you mean that foul mouthed street urchin, she didn’t deserve my compassion.”

“She couldn’t have even been ten years,” Ka argued sharply, but Re only scoffed.

“Old enough to learn a vocabulary that could crumble stone. Old enough to be conniving and manipulative. To scream an excuse for her crimes before even asked because she thought it could save her. I may have shown mercy if she’d been quiet like that thief bo- the boy! You huffed at him, too! Why?!”

Ka frowned a bit more, taking a moment this time to choose his words. “You were kind to him, but I cannot figure out why. And then you were cruel, and I cannot figure out the reason for that, either.”

Re blinked and frowned. “How was I cruel?” his voice was softer as he asked this, kneeling curiously to be closer to Ka. “The mines are dangerous, I didn’t want to send a boy there simply for trying to feed his family.”

Ka looked at him for a moment, frowning in confusion. “Yes, I agree. That was indeed kind, but the farms are hardly better.”

“Ah,” the prince said with sudden understanding. He sat back, sitting onto his feet where he was. “I see now. I suppose, viewed that way, I would seem cruel.”

“Your official said the kitchens needed a boy, you could have saved him hard labor.” Ka glared at the prince. The sentence had been especially painful to hear, Ka sympathized with a child in that position. It was far more common in the kingdom than he cared to think about.

Re was calm now, understanding the failure of knowledge. “Ka, you do not understand something.” The scribe stilled, frowning more at the earnest tone. The prince sighed slightly and shook his head. “You will not be leaving the palace, this is your home from now on.”

Ka’s gaze dropped, letting out a defeated sigh of his own. “I do understand that.”

Re waved him off and just continued. “That whore, she will not leave either. If she falls out of favor, she will join the servants. When the kitchens do find a boy, he will move in with the cooks, and he will live there the rest of his life.” Ka lifted his eyes again to look at the prince and the royal nodded at him, expression rather solemn. “The farms will be hard, but that boy will survive them. He’ll be fed while he’s there and when his sentence is up, he will be allowed to leave.”

Ka didn’t say anything, frowning slightly in thought. Viewed that way, the prince’s reasoning made more sense. Perhaps he was even being kind after all. There were other benefits as well, the boy would learn how to grow food, a skill that would help him and his family in the future. But the palace was safer, by far. In the kitchens he would be educated and learn valuable skills, not to mention he would be exposed to real finery and even taste the very foods the royal family ate. In an actual job, Ka wasn’t sure anyone would want to leave at all.

Re sighed again, his eyes down-turned, gaze on his own knees. “You probably still think I am cruel,” he said softly. “I hope you believe me when I say: I do not try to be.” His frown deepened. “I try not to be him.”

“Wh-“

“I still need to bring you something to eat,” Re said swiftly. He stood and strode quickly to the door, before Ka could muster any question.

Ka wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t move, still leaning on one elbow to accommodate his chains, hands close together in front of him. He continued to watch the door- left slightly open in the prince’s rush to flee . . . Prince Re had fled. Ka was fairly certain he had seen some truth in the other man, a glimpse behind the ‘prince’ to just Re. But the prince had fled from that, not giving Ka a chance even to be certain of what he’d seen. The scribe continued to ponder it until he could see shadows coming down the hall again.

A servant boy pushed the door open for Prince Re. The redhead had another silver goblet in his hands and Ka could smell wine again. He was followed by another servant, this young man carrying a food tray. Ka’s stomach growled at the smell of fresh baked bread. He flushed when Re chuckled slightly, the royal muttering, “You do need more to eat.”

Ka didn’t answer, not looking at the prince as he refilled Ka’s own cup. The food was set before him and the servants both bowed low before leaving the two men alone. Ka’s attention was on the food, offered to him on a silver plate like the prince used for his own meal. There were several pieces of fresh bread and a small pot of jam and another of honey. There was also a cup of stew, Ka could see root vegetables as well as grains. Actually an extremely healthy meal, and clearly freshly made. Ka took a piece of the bread, trying a bite on its own. His eyes fell closed, a sigh of bliss escaping him.

As the scribe began eating his small meal, Prince Re finished his own drink and changed into a cream-colored silk robe for sleep. Both men were quiet, the silence just a bit tense. After he was changed, the prince found himself watching his pet, admiring the grace he possessed to eat in his position. Re frowned a bit, remembering that he was the cause for that. He quickly moved forward and knelt beside Ka to do something about it.

The scribe startled at the sudden nearness and Re hushed him. “Calm down.” He looked up to meet the man’s wide pale eyes, right beside him. The prince only smiled slightly and looked back down to the heavy lock on the chains. He pulled the key from his belt to unlock it, glancing at Ka again as he pulled it free of the links. The scribe straightened a bit, but he didn’t move away and Re’s smile grew. He reattached the lock, low enough on the chain that Ka could easily sit up properly.

Then the royal stood again, going to fill his goblet with water for the night. “Master Re,” Ka said, almost under his breath. The prince stopped and turned back, but Ka didn’t look at him. Instead his hand lifted, wrapping around the chain that still trapped him to the floor. His lips thinned and he growled slightly. “Everyone is cruel, to some extent.” He sighed just a little, his head dropping a bit before he continued. “But if you honestly try not to be . . . then you are better.” Better than Ka had thought. Better than ‘him’ whatever that meant to the prince.

Ka gasped slightly as Re’s hand landed on his head. He pet back the scribe’s brown locks before stepping away again. “Thank you, Ka,” he said quietly as he moved to the side of the bed, preparing for sleep. “Do you need the torch?”

Ka looked over at the prince, his form fuzzy in the flickering light. “No,” he answered. “It’s late, sleep. I’ll be fine.” The prince nodded and turned, using a small jeweled bowl to snuff out the torch beside his bed. Instantly the man was swallowed by the darkness. Ka couldn’t even see the prince’s vibrant hair. He turned to the last of his food, which had transformed into just more unidentifiable black shapes. He ate it from memory, savoring the flavors and smells. They only seemed amplified without seeing the bites and Ka smiled as he ate. Then he drained his goblet and pushed both away so he could lie down himself. He huffed to himself again, but tried to get comfortable on the hard floor, gradually drifting back to sleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-