Chapter 14: Nearly Sleeping Prince

          As prince Augustus laid his head on her lap, he noticed it was soft. It was so, unabashedly soft. It was like he was laying his head on a cloud. Aisling had sat down on the floor, and he had laid down on it, setting his head in her lap.

          It was rather nice, the fact that he no longer stood took some pressure of the young lad. Then she started stroking his head. It was like when he had been a toddler. His mother used to do the same when he was sick.

          He closed his eyes in happiness. This was nice, she was nice. He wanted her, very much wanted her. But his dad wouldn’t let him have any beastkin slaves. That in and of itself was rather annoying. He didn’t mind them, and they couldn’t hurt him. Miss Aisling wouldn’t hurt him even if she wasn’t a slave.

Of that fact he was certain. It was as if he had a mother again, or at least, a person that gave him care. It was so nostalgic. She even started to hum while she calmed him down. This was definitely curing his seasickness.

No, she wasn’t humming, she was purring. It was rather pleasant. He nearly started to drift off to sleep. But then again, why can’t he fall asleep on her lap. She wouldn’t hurt him. She was a nice slave, a nice person.

          The young Prince had never understood why slaves were slaves in all honesty. He understood that people needed workers, but then again, why not hire some people. He understood that a lot of people needed work in Francia. He had heard some of the nobles in the royal court mumble something about the unemployment rate going up, whatever that was.

          He rolled onto his side and nuzzled the side of his head into Aisling’s thighs. They were so nice. His stomach wasn’t even yelling at him anymore. He nearly started to sleep again.

…

          This was bad, this was very bad. Aisling couldn’t help but panic. She was currently helping the prince with seasickness, and he had just started to bury himself in her thighs.

          The young boy was rather forward in all honesty. He acted as though he had never seen the love of a mother or the warm pat on the back of a father. He seemed so lonely. She was lonely at one point in her past life, but she had wallowed in her misery, this Prince was still as happy as can be.

          She was somewhat happy, somewhat jealous that he could be so happy now. But this whole situation was her doing. That was what was bringing her panic to her mind. But she was also breaking so many rules of slave conduct.

          She wasn’t supposed to be doing this, but she was anyway. That was what was truly bringing conflict to her mind. She was going to be punished for this. She was going to be hit, and maybe branded and sold again. She didn’t want that.

          She took a deep breath and noticed that something rather weird. She hadn’t expected her subconscious mind to enjoy this. She was purring. She had never purred once in all her slave-hood before. But here she was, purring away in enjoyment as her mind raced.

          Then she noticed how much joy she gleamed from this. She was a slave, and if the racist slave owners were to be believed, a cat. She looked down at the half asleep prince and smiled. It seemed to her that the both of them needed some affection. After all, she was a slave, a living tool. Even farm animals needed some care and affection.

          She closed her eyes as she gently caressed the young prince’s head. That was when she noticed that she was starting to actually feel something other than the panic of messing up as a slave. She was starting to feel a connection to this Prince.

          Even though that was probably bad in the long run, she had started to feel as though that wasn’t the most important thing in the world right now. Right now, she wanted to make this child that obviously was started to be molded by that man. This young boy was without family, at least a true family.

          As she continued to lull the child to sleep, there was a shift in his sleeping posture, and he opened his eyes. She looked down on him and let the smallest of smiles on her face show.

          “Aisling, how old are you?” he asked.

          She thought about whether her birthday had passed while she was a slave under her master’s ownership and responded.

          “I should be turning eleven the next morning Prince Augustus,” she told him with a rather diminutive voice, “I may look fourteen, but all beastkin look three years older than they actually are until they turn thirteen. By that point the advanced ageing slows down and by sixteen they look the correct age. I look four years older than I am because of an accident.”

          The prince had to do a double take. At first, one would think she was fourteen, but as one looked at her the more mature, she would seem. In fact, she had started to seem about a year older than she initially looked.

          As the prince sat up, he felt as though the seasickness came back with a vengeance against him. He flinched as the gurgling of his stomach reached the ears of Aisling.

          “Your highness, I think I know another way to remove seasickness,” she told him.

…

As Prince Augustus walked into the room, he noticed something. It was small. Now, that was quite normal for ships. It was rather important to save space after all. But the young boy thought that this ship was large enough for the servants’ rooms to be at least normal sized.

          It kind of irked him to be honest with you all. He rather liked this slave. She seemed smart, could actually speak French, and could write. Well, he had asked the duke about her some and he had told the prince that she could write Irish and English.

          Her penmanship could use some more work, but she was rather well educated. It made him rather mad to be honest. This slave was rather valuable, and they simply put her here. No, that wouldn’t do.

          But his stomach telling him to shut up and keep quiet was something that he couldn’t ignore. She sat down on her knees and grabbed something from her luggage. It was a small box she pulled from which she held in her hands. She then stood up and sat on her bed.

          “My Prince, could you lay your head on my lap once more?” she asked with an incredibly professional tone of voice.

          He laid his head down on her heavenly soft lap once more. He felt kind of funny when he did this, but he thought it was merely just his seasickness. He peered up at her with the side of his face.

          “Now my prince, have you ever heard of ear cleaning before? All beastkin have to clean our ears as they are much more important to us than a human and their ears. But surely you have heard of it before?” she asked with a tad but of hope in her voice.

          “No, I have never heard of it before; what is it?” he asked.

          A slight smile danced hon her lips as she spoke, “let me show you.”

…

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