…

          Aisling didn’t know what to think, she was rather confused. The boy that was the prince was kind of, well he seemed like a person who didn’t know what to think. That was the short answer. He was the first and only child of the king. He shouldn’t have come on this boat.

          It wasn’t the best idea in the world. But she was a simple servant, a maid. She worried that her actions would be too human-like. She wasn’t supposed to act all flustered. She was trained to be something other than that. But…

          Then again, she was nothing but a slave, a pet, a doll. Her opinion didn’t matter in the long run. But it was still dumb, even an empty-headed cat could see it. She was merely kind of peeved at the end of the day.

          As she walked to the carriage and grabbed the luggage on the back of it, she spotted the head maid watching the young prince in the corner of her eye. Aisling was also watching over the lad. He was simply looking around the place, like he had never been anywhere before.

          She couldn’t blame the boy. He likely was stuck at the palace all the time and couldn’t leave the building. It was rather strange for him to be here. That man, the man that the first prince Augustus called uncle must be rather well trusted.

The simple fact that he was even outside of the capital proved in her mind how much the king likely trusted that man. It unnerved her how familiar he was with the leader of the country’s child.

          It was like he was training the prince, like he was trying to control him. She had seen that look in the older man’s gaze before. It was the same look he had when he was trying to get her own troop executed for treason.

          As she turned around with the suitcase in her hands, she spotted the prince looking at her as if she was the second coming of Christ. It was very stressful for her as she needed to keep herself from looking like anything that wasn’t what her slave-ness would suggest.

          She then looked at the head maid and sighed internally. It was all kinds of messed up that this woman wasn’t even making sure that there was anyone that was trying anything fishy with the prince. In all honesty, other than the fact that she was the lover of her master, Aisling couldn’t see her as anything other than a horndog.

          If you wanted to properly guard the prince from people on the docks that might want to hurt him, you would need to constantly scan the crowd that was beginning to form. She sighed internally once more and made a note of checking their surroundings while they walked up the stairs.

          Getting back to the present, she walked over to the two of them and bowed her head to the prince. She waited for the young lord to tell her to raise her head, but he didn’t do so.

It appeared as though he had forgotten etiquette. But she couldn’t raise her head so as to tell him to. That would be very improper of her, a slave, to do so.

          With her head still bowed, she spoke to the first prince. It was rather easy, she looked older than him and it helped her keep her head on straight. It was as if she was trying to show a young child on how to act.

          “My prince, it would be rather wise to come back to the ship while the head maid picks up the rest of the luggage,” she asked of Augustus.

          The young boy thought about it for a second or two, then he nodded his head and started up the stairs, crawling up them like how one would do as a child I her past life. It was honestly kind of funny. But then again, it was efficient.

          As she walked up behind the boy who seemed to be in a rather good mood, she thought back as to the looks he was giving her. It seemed to her that he was looking at her like he had never seen a spirit beastkin before. It was honestly kind of weird. The simple fact that such a luxury and thing to brag to others about, was something he may have never seen before.

          When they got to the top of the deck, Aisling bowed to the young lord and he told her to raise her head, remembering this time. Looking behind herself, she spotted the head maid walking up the steps with a bag in each hand. Aisling herself was carrying her own stuff.

          Even the slaves couldn’t wear the same thing over and over again. It was simply not proper to do so. After all, it told the rest of the nobility things about the master if his slaves that he himself brought were dirty. Also, her master was on the better side of masters, and she did not wish to disrespect him that way.

…

          As the prince looked upon the girl that seemed to have an air of someone in chains, he thought about what he wanted for his birthday. It was true that he wished for a slave, maybe even a guard. But in the end, he wished to talk to someone. His uncle fell into that category, but he was much older than the boy.

          Venator was also a person he talked to on the regular, but he was simply to in his own world to pay attention to the young lad. The king was a no go for any conversation. It was simply too hard to speak with him about anything. The prince’s dad didn’t like anything that wasn’t himself, and he thought that he was the only person with any amount of intelligence.

Now, at the end of the day he wanted a servant, a pet, someone or something that would help him from day to day. A thing that would enjoy his attention, be that a person, a slave, or a pet. He was tempted to ask his dad once more for a beastkin slave.

He simply wanted one because he didn’t see them often and he wanted to know what they were like. But then again, his dad probably wanted to get him an actual cat, and he was pretty sure the one that had been put in that box had been asleep forever.

          He looked around the main deck and spotted the sailors looking at him and the slave with strange looks. It was like they had never expected him to walk around like this by the side of a slave. That was weird to him, as she was a simple slave, a worker. No different from the servants that cleaned his room.

          He looked back at the slave that he hadn’t gotten the name of. That was rather rude, all things considered; he couldn’t keep calling her slave. That would clash with the other slave that was standing behind her. he spoke up.

          “Slave, what is your name?” he asked with innocence.

          In all honesty, this was simply common courtesy. While everyone around him told him he did not have to treat slaves all too kindly, he wanted to. They were people, at least they looked like people. They moved like people. They talked like people.

          She looked back at him with a demure looking face She bowed her head with a hand on her chest, and spoke: “I am called Aisling, my lord.”