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Three weeks had passed since Thomar's memorable nineteenth birthday. Three weeks in which nothing important had happened. Or at least, so it would have seemed to a casual observer. Even the Duke himself would probably have said that nothing had changed. Robert would have disagreed.
The changes were small and probably insignificant to anyone else, but to Robert they meant the world. For the first time in his life, he was relaxing his iron self-control, his constant vigilance to be exactly whatever it might be that his master expected him to be. He hadn't realised how much attention he had spent on this until he had gradually reduced the amount of “being what was expected” and increased the amount of “being himself”.
Granted, being himself was a tiny sliver. There was so little he was sure was himself. But those small bits made him feel content in a way he’d never imagine possible.
One of these little indulgences was that he had quit dragging himself out of bed at the crack of dawn to get up with his master.
The young duke was always in a rush, simultaneously putting on his clothes, discussing his schedule with his bodyguards and advisers, drinking coffee and flipping through notes. Mostly, Robert had sat there, blinking owlishly while trying at the same time to smile pleasantly and look available. There had been absolutely no point in him being there since Thomar almost never had need of him. But a perfect pet got up with his master. A perfect pet was always attentive.
One morning, he had made the conscious decision to stay in bed, roll over and bury his head under the pillow when his master got up.
Thomar hadn't commented.
Not on the next day either.
On the third day, he had taken the time to languidly kiss Robert before he left the bed and had even quietly closed the door to the bedroom, shielding Robert from the hubbub of guards and advisers in his main room. That had become the normal routine.
Maybe a perfect pet meant something entirely different to Thomar than to the rest of the world.
So Robert's breakfast time had moved to somewhere closer to lunch – a time when he was actually hungry and ready for a proper breakfast – instead of eating way too early and way too little then feeling slightly grumpy about it all day until he had his first drink around noon.
The first few of those late breakfasts had felt like he was doing something decidedly naughty. Ordering toast, scrambled eggs, genuine Malino bacon, and whatever else he fancied and having his breakfast brought up to have on the small balcony outside Thomar's private study. Eating, drinking coffee, reading the morning newspaper while he had an entertaining view over one of the busiest courtyards of the palace. It was so thoroughly enjoyable, it had to be naughty.
For a few of these late breakfasts, his master had joined him, using it as his lunch break and for chatting about what he had accomplished so far in the day. They were both so much more relaxed than they had been for any of their early breakfasts and Thomar obviously enjoyed the opportunity to unwind before heading back into the fray.
There had been no repeat of their feral sexual escapade so far, but that was maybe more due to a lack of time than a lack of interest. The young Duke had been very busy with dealing with the fallout of his countless birthday guests. He had a thousand trade agreements to settle and political manoeuvring from demons as well as from nobles based on other worlds than Aylian. Mostly, he dropped into bed like a log once he came home late at night.
So far, Robert had not gathered the courage to force the issue but he was slowly getting there.
Now that he had had a taste, he realised he was hungry for more.
Not that they hadn't had great sex before, but he had never considered what he wanted for himself, what he enjoyed. He had always let Thomar take the lead, had tried to please his master, not himself. He had been trained for that and it had been the correct course of action with all his previous masters. But with Thomar, there was the possibility that he would be even more pleased if Robert was actually having as much fun as he was, and showed a little more initiative. That was a direction he intended to explore. Carefully, of course, once he managed to get a hold of his master in a state when he was both available and awake, and also found the guts to do it.
With a soft sigh, Robert took the last rasher of fried bacon from his plate and stuffed it into his mouth. Everything was more bearable with bacon – especially with extremely expensive bacon, imported from Malicorn, produced by genuine Malino pigs, which was without a doubt the best pork to be found in the Virasana Empire. Sadly, he had never had an opportunity to stay on Malicorn for an extended period of time. Though being there and being denied the pleasure of eating all the delicious treats available by a forbidding master would have been even crueller.
He looked up in surprise when he heard the door to the ducal suite open. Usually, Thomar sent advance notice if he was able to join him so there would be food left.
“No, Thomar!” F'leer's voice. “Absolutely NOT!”
Followed by the young Duke himself, “Robert? Where are you?”
“Out here, my lord,” Robert answered, half rising already to meet his master when Thomar stepped outside himself with the captain of his bodyguards on his heels.
Whatever they were arguing about, it had to be pretty serious judging from the frown etched into F'leer's brow.
“You can't forbid me to go, you know?” Thomar told F'leer and dropped into the chair opposite Robert, looking harried, tired and stubborn.
“I bloody well can forbid you!” F'leer planted his fists on his hips, reminding Robert of a mule digging in his hooves. He turned his attention on Robert. “You tell him, pet!”
“Tell him what, sir?” Robert asked carefully avoiding eye contact with the angry N'Ptalini by picking up his coffee cup.
Before the Captain got a chance to answer, Thomar was already chiming in, “I've decided I need a holiday. I've been working my ass off without a break for over a year now. I need a break.”
That didn't sound too exotic. So it probably wasn't half of what Thomar planned.
“Why don't you also tell him the rest of it?” F'leer glared at the young Duke.
And here we go.
“I'll never be able to relax with my faithful bloodhounds around.” Thomar waved his hand at the outraged N'Ptalini. “So we'll go on a pleasure cruise without them.”
“And?” F'leer spurred him on.
“And of course a duke can't go off like that without any protection, so I'll be going incognito, with me posing as your pet.” Thomar grinned insolently at Robert who was suffering a nauseating feeling of déjà vu.
He had done his best to bury the memory of that night out at the disco. Now, it jumped back at him with added horror scenarios of all the things that could go wrong if he had to keep up the charade of being Thomar's master, not for one evening but for a whole cruise. He was reasonably sure that he would be fine as long as nothing unexpected happened – after all he had managed that at the disco as well. But what if something happened to Thomar? What if he had to make decisions? He wasn't trained for situations like that.
“You can't expect your pet to take on that kind of responsibility, Thomar!”
His patronizing tone served to soothe Robert's nerve. The N'Ptalini had a much better grasp on his state of mind. He noticed how Thomar's face fell at this argument and how he regarded Robert with genuine care. How the thought that Robert might not be comfortable was a valid reason for him to give up on his mad plan, when nothing else had apparently gotten through to him. He knew full well how hard his master worked and how little he claimed for himself. He wasn't just the duke of an important planet, he also was a young man who deserved something nice every now and then, and right now was a rare moment where it was in Robert's power to give him that.
“Actually, sir, I don't see what you are so worked up about. I'm sure my master knows perfectly well what is best,” he meekly said, drawing open-mouthed stares from both Thomar and F'leer for a moment.
“You've got to be fucking kidding me!” the N'Ptalini hissed while Thomar relaxed back into his chair and picked up a leftover slice of toast, smiling at Robert gratefully. That smile was worth a lot to Robert.
“See, we'll be perfectly fine,” Thomar said.
F'leer replied with an unintelligible snarl, turned on his heels and stalked off.
Thomar waited until the door had slammed shut behind him. “Are you really okay with this?” he asked, “I promise this time we won't get in trouble.”
The mere question showed Robert how much he cared, though it didn't help with the insistent voice in his head clamouring that he was dooming himself and probably his master, too.
He grimaced. “Please don't say that, my lord. It reminds me of all the things that could go wrong.”
Thomar nodded solemnly.
“So, how long will we be going?” Robert asked. He was sure Thomar would already have prepared all the details.
“Only a week. That is the longest I can leave without everything breaking down.” He sighed. “It will have to be enough. We'll be leaving in a few days, so you may wanna start packing appropriate costumes.”
A whole week alone with Thomar on a pleasure cruise. Thomar posing as his pet. Suddenly, other images popped into his head. So many decidedly sexual opportunities. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, what could go wrong? His master was capable of defending both of them, right?
***
The 'Aurora Aida' was neither the biggest nor the most famous pleasure cruise spaceship in the Virasana Empire. It was, however, one of the most luxurious and probably the most exclusive. It was the only one where the guests were not picked by the size of their bank accounts, but by personal merit, which was a necessity as it catered to a very particular crowd.
It offered owner/pet holidays for those who wished to spoil their pets, and to do so in an environment where they could let their little darlings run free without fear of nasty people preying on them. Naturally, only guests who were known for treating their pets well and indulging them were allowed onboard. And who were known for respecting the property of other pet owners. That took one of Robert's biggest worries off Robert's shoulders – what to do if some other, higher ranking noble decided to take Thomar from him?
Apparently, Thomar numbered among this exclusive group of owners. He had secured a one-week's stay for them. He had assured Robert that 'appropriate people' onboard knew his real identity before they switched roles.
If Robert had known in advance what kind of faked identity his master had set up for him this time, he might have agreed with F'leer that this was a very bad idea. But he had already sided with his master when Thomar finally informed him that he would pose as a very wealthy, bored baron of a minor house from Shiraz.
Punishments for a slave posing as a commoner were harsh. Punishment for anybody posing as a noble was brutal and always fatal for the offender. Of course, he had been ordered by a duke to do it, but they were not on Aylian now, where Thomar's jurisdiction was absolute. It was scary and his master's complete lack of worry didn't help to alleviate his fears.
And then, of course, there was the disturbing feeling of not wearing his pet earrings. Robert couldn't help but wonder how free people coped with this complete lack of a sense of belonging and protection. To him, it felt like he had been cut loose from all ties and was helplessly drifting without direction. Of course, the earrings were just a physical representation. He belonged to Thomar. Yet, he caught himself repeatedly feeling his earlobe, missing the familiar weight, slight as it might be.
Now, it was too late for complaints, anyway. A few minutes ago, they had been ported from Aylian to Lopeia and were now ready to be ported up to the Aurora Aida, which was waiting in orbit for her passengers.
Robert had used the short stop at Lopeia spaceport to study the posh brochure about the Aurora Aida Thomar had handed him. Basically, she was more like a flying habitat than a spaceship. There was a central, transparent dome which housed something the brochure described as 'the lagoon', a large lake with sandy beaches and actual palm trees around it. It also held various small restaurants and bars where the guests could relax, eat and enjoy the spectacular view overhead. Around the huge central dome, smaller ones were arranged, housing the guest quarters and a plethora of recreational facilities. Each of these smaller domes had its own theme and climate, ranging from a beach resort with small individual huts to a tropical jungle with one large, palace-like hotel building to sunny fields with cottages under apple trees, and a snowy wonderland where guests could pick between log cabins and small, round buildings made entirely of ice. Crew quarters, service facilities, and the actual machinery were built under the domes and had reversed gravity, which, apparently, strengthened the stability of the whole structure. It made no sense to Robert, but then, he was mostly clueless when it came to technical details.
Not that the ship was particularly sturdy – it was one of the few, large ships too fragile to make the jump through a Mandala from system to system. So she stayed in one system for a few months, making tours of the various sights like sun storms, pretty moons or whatever phenomena were available until the whole ship was ported off to another system to repeat the process.
Right now, she toured the Ithaca system, which held the supposedly fascinating anomaly of two planets – Lopeia and Yseio – sharing the same orbit around their sun. Both planets were hospitable and some of the first few humanity had settled. The system was well explored so there was minimal danger of any unexpected mishaps, which was ideal for a ship like the Aurora Aida. And travellers like him.
The brochure also had several glossy photos of the lagoon and guest quarters, and Robert had to admit it all looked very inviting and luxurious. Especially compared to the ducal quarters on Aylian, which hadn't changed their appearance since his arrival. They still looked as if Thomar had stolen most of the furniture from various places all over the palace. Not that Robert minded. Not much, at least. It had a kind of rugged charm, which was very fitting for his master. But the Aurora Aida would be a nice change of scenery.
Their quarters were located in the tropical habitat for a maximum of comfort. Of course, the guests' wishes would be catered to in every way possible no matter what theme they chose. However, just the picture of one of the huge bedrooms with a giant, round, plush bed and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking flower-laden treetops was very inviting and inspiring.
He looked at his master, who was excitedly bobbing up and down next to him and didn't look anything like a master – or a duke for that matter.
This time, Thomar had gone all the way in dressing up as a cute pet. He wore a tiny, white t-shirt that ended well above his navel and bleached, blue, denim shorts that were short enough to reveal his ass every time he moved, which he did a lot. Around his neck, he wore a simple yet expensive-looking, gold collar. He also wore pet earrings showing Robert's fake rank and the light blue ring that signalled that he was available, as long as he consented. This, almost archetypal, pet look was complemented for holiday flair with comfortable leather sandals and an honest-to-god straw hat.
Robert had no idea where Thomar had picked up these pieces, but he looked so exceedingly cute and delicious Robert was very aware of his crotch, and his palms were sweaty. Aside from the constant worry that he would be executed in a horrible way for pretending to be a noble, his main worry was how to keep himself from tying his master to a bed for a change and fucking him senseless. It was horribly inappropriate, but the longer he considered his master in his new outfit, the less he remembered why.
They were politely ushered forward onto the porter platform and, a blink later, they arrived on the Aurora Aida. A steward in a white uniform stepped up to them with a heartfelt smile.
“Welcome aboard the Aurora Aida,” he said. “I am your assigned steward for this trip. We look forward to providing you with all the comfort you could possibly wish for. If you need anything at all, please let me know.”
“Oh my god! I can't believe we are here!” Thomar exclaimed, perfectly in character, and beamed up at Robert. “Thank you so much, Master!” He was scarily credible in his adopted role.
Despite his intense feeling of vertigo, Robert managed a polite smile of his own for the steward. “We're happy to be here, as you can see.”
“If you allow, I shall show you to your suite.” The steward gestured for some liveried servants to take their luggage before leading them further into the ship. “We will be in orbit for about an hour, until all guests have arrived.”
Nothing here looked anything like a spaceship’s interior. Plush red carpets covered the floors, while the walls were white-washed wood with brass bolts. Real, potted palm trees and ferns provided life and decoration at once. It all looked very classy. And expensive.
“Can we see the lagoon, Master?” Thomar asked, tugging on Robert's sleeve.
Belatedly, Robert realised that he needed some sort of endearment to use on his 'pet' now. He couldn't call Thomar 'Master' or 'my lord' anymore. Darling? No. Honey? No, that sounded too much like he was addressing a spouse. Sweety? Nice, but Robert knew too well how very unsweet Thomar could be to get that over his tongue repeatedly. Love? Oh, definitely not that one.
Watching Thomar eagerly bounce up and down at his side finally gave him the perfect idea.
“Of course, puppy. Once you have unpacked, you may see the lagoon.”
It was both amusing and satisfying to see how his master missed a step and couldn't suppress a startled blink. Robert gave him his toothiest smile and had it returned in kind.
***
About an hour later, Robert was sitting at a small bar under palm trees. The counter was built from bamboo, the tables were rattan with glass tops, and the comfortable chairs were rattan as well with thick white cushions. Some potted orchids were suspended from the palm trees. The barman behind the counter and the waiter were wearing white uniforms and polite smiles.
It was all exceedingly posh in an understated sort of way.
It should have been disconcerting how right at home he felt. But why worry when he was enjoying himself so much?
On the table next to his chair sat an excellent longdrink made from genuine Loreller eau-de-vie plus a huge, colourful fruit cocktail complete with a tiny umbrella and a straw with a paper fold-out clown face. The cocktail, of course, belonged to Thomar.
Not that he had shown any interest in it after Robert had 'helped' him pick it from the menu.
Instead, he had dashed down to the beach to chuck off his sandals and clingy t-shirt, and run right into the water. Now, he was playing in the gentle waves, looking like a happy child without a care in the world. Robert continuously had to remind himself that he was watching the Duke of Aylian. Had he ever seen Thomar like this before? No, and what a sad thought that was. He had never before seen his master genuinely happy.
Should he have put more effort into figuring out how Thomar was coping with the responsibility of suddenly having to rule a war torn-planet at his age? He always seemed so strong, so cool, and in control of himself and his duties. But what if that was a mask and he was now seeing the real Thomar for the first time? Entirely possible. Probable, even. So why was he suddenly feeling all protective instead of insecure? Fiercely protective with an intensity he hadn't thought himself capable of.
He watched Thomar wade out of the water and flop down onto his back in the sand.
The urge to tie him to a bed and fuck him senseless had evaporated. Instead, he wondered if maybe his master wanted to be hugged now and then.
With a soft sigh, Robert turned from these disturbing thoughts back to the deck plan of the Aurora Aida he had been studying to figure out where they would have dinner tonight. When abandoning his role as a duke, Thomar had also shed all desire for responsibility over anything. He had left it to his 'master' to make all decisions.
That was equal parts a delight and a problem for Robert. Making decisions always held the risk of getting it wrong and a pet couldn't afford to be wrong. Robert was fully aware that there was no real 'wrong' decision in this case, but the gnawing doubt remained. There were so many restaurants to pick from, and they all sounded delightful in their own way. Shirazan country cuisine? Probably delicious, but maybe also too stuffy for Thomar in his current state. Nabuccan steakhouse? Kismeti Haute Cuisine? An avant-garde restaurant by a Serini chef? Too many options could be a curse. Finally, Robert settled on what was called the 'Kyothari Pavilion', on the other side of the lagoon. They claimed to have a chef trained both on Isfahan and Qufu, a truly rare combination.
Years ago, Robert had been in the service of a particularly boring Ndewane diplomat who had used him as a hand-out favour for other nobles he was negotiating with. They had spent a whole month on Isfahan as guests of nobles who had served only the best food and Robert had grown fond of the cuisine. He hadn't had a chance to sample anything of the same quality since.
Isfahani food came with the added benefit that it was often served in small, artfully decorated pieces to be eaten with chopsticks or fingers. The brochures showed that the pavilion would have the classic Isfahani divans to recline on. It would be nice to have Thomar snuggled up with him and feeding each other treats. He had no clue if Thomar would enjoy it too, but his master was never averse to trying something new.
His musings were interrupted by a gentle chiming sound and a pleasant male voice speaking over what had to be a shipwide speaker system.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are pleased to inform you that boarding is now complete. The engines are warming up and we are ready to depart Lopeia. We will now dim the lights in the central dome to give you a perfect view of the planet. You will also be able to have a good look from the other observation decks. We would like to take this opportunity to once more welcome you all onboard. We will do our utmost to ensure you have a most enjoyable vacation with us. If there is anything at all you desire, please never hesitate to ask.”
Moments later Thomar came bounding up from the beach, carrying his sandals and shirt, damp shorts clinging to him like a second skin and a happy grin plastered all across his face. He dropped into the other chair at Robert's table, blissfully happy.
“The water is nice and warm, Master,” he reported. “Are you going to come out for a swim too, some time?”
Staying on land would have been much more comfortable, but Robert sharply reminded himself that in reality, he was a pet and that if his master wanted something, it was his job to deliver it.
“Sure. That would be nice.”
He was rewarded first with a frown and then with a carefree laugh. “Master, you are such a terrible liar!”
Robert blinked. He was sure he had sounded sincere. His master was getting too good at reading him. Judging by Thomar's reaction, his master didn't want him to go swimming if he didn't enjoy it. He had no idea what to say, but thankfully he didn't have to as now the artificial lights inside the dome were gradually dimming, mimicking a sunset, delivering a stunning spectacle on their own. As the lights faded, the stars outside became more prominent. Somewhere underneath, the engines of the Aurora Aida rumbled to life. Their initial noise quickly receded to a gentle hum and the sky above the dome began to move. Or rather, the ship moved.
Slowly and majestically, the Aurora Aida turned, revealing a truly breathtaking view of Lopeia below, oceans and landmasses spread around the globe under a thin cover of wispy clouds. Along the nightside curve of the planet, large cities cast glittering patterns into the darkness. As the ship started drifting away, first one, then another of the orbital defence stations came into view, shimmering like metal jewels.
Both Robert and Thomar had leaned back in their chairs, looking up and silently enjoying the spectacle. They watched until the planet had shrunk to a dot behind them while the Aurora Aida accelerated to cruising speed.
***
When Robert awoke on his first morning on the Aurora Aida, it took him a moment to get his bearings. The bed was a little too soft and didn't smell quite right. The light – or rather the lack thereof – was all wrong. He was used to sun peeking through the thick curtains in Thomar's bedroom. Here, there was only a slight artificial glow from a panel set in the wall next to the door.
He was actually surprised at how short his disorientation was. Considering all the places he had called home before, it was strange that the ducal suite on Aylian immediately registered as the 'correct home'. He was truly getting comfortable with the thought of spending the rest of his life there, he realised.
It was a mixed blessing. Thomar would eventually tire of him. He claimed that he wouldn't and Robert wanted to believe it, but he kept forcing himself not to. It always happened. Robert would be even older and more used-up. Who would want him?
Shaking his head, he banished these dark thoughts. Where was his master, anyway?
When they had returned to their suite the previous evening, both of them had been full of gorgeous food, slightly tipsy from the sparkling wine that had been served with dinner and tired. With a whole week of vacation before them, neither of them had felt any urgency to do more than drop into bed and fall asleep.
Robert had briefly considered trying to cuddle his master, but then he had remembered the results of that on one of the first nights he had spent in Thomar's bed shortly after his arrival on Aylian. The young Duke moved a lot in his sleep and when Robert had gotten too clingy, he had been cuffed in the jaw painfully. Thomar maintained it had been an accident, but Robert wasn't sure it had been.
So he had stayed on his side of the bed every night after that incident. Often enough, Thomar would roll partially on top of him during the night, but he left the initiative to his master.
Now, the bed beside Robert was empty and, as he was feeling wide awake, he judged that Thomar had let him sleep in.
With a yawn, Robert switched on the light and sat up. Wearing only the pyjama pants, which never failed to amuse Thomar, who slept completely naked, Robert went in search of his 'pet'. A short tour through their suite didn't turn him up, but there was a slip of paper taped to the door leading out of the suite.
The writing was big enough that Robert didn't need to start searching for his reading glasses. “At beetch. Love.” It said in a childish scrawl that looked nothing like Thomar's usual neat handwriting. Under the 'Love' was drawn some sort of symbol. It took Robert a moment to identify it as a pawprint and connect it to the fact that he had called Thomar 'puppy' all evening.
Thomar was taking to his role like a duck to water, it seemed.
Robert briefly considered having his breakfast delivered to the suite, but decided against it. Without Thomar there, the suite felt too big and empty and the opulent luxury faintly oppressive. The thought made Robert smile. So far, to him, luxury had been synonymous with a rich owner, which in turn meant relative safety. But now, he was growing to appreciate the rugged charm of Thomar's style where he didn't have to constantly worry about disturbing some perfect arrangement or being punished for getting something dirty.
But if he remembered correctly, the beach bar where he had had his welcome drink the previous day also offered breakfast. Having Thomar in his view would be reassuring and more entertaining as well. At least, he hoped he would find his master at the beach, as promised.
He took a quick shower, where he ignored the plethora of carefully labelled buttons for various levels of water pressure and the activation of different nozzles dotting the shower walls and ceiling. He put on comfortable slacks, a polo shirt and a light jacket. Checking himself in the mirror he was satisfied with the 'minor noble on vacation' look. Thomar had provided him with stylish sunglasses – an item he had never before been allowed to incorporate into a look. After all, no master would want their pet to be able to hide their eyes.
The walk to the bar wasn't far as it was the hang out spot for the central, lagoon dome and closest to the connection passage to the jungle habitat. The instant climate change from hot and humid to pleasantly warm was a little disorientating, but Robert ignored it, already hearing loud and cheerful shouting from the beach. When he reached the actual bar, he had a clear view and spotted Thomar, again wearing only his sinfully short and tight shorts and his slave collar, playing some sort of ball game with another boy.
His new friend was as lean as Thomar but already a bit wider in the shoulders, which gave him a slightly more mature look. His skin was the colour of milky coffee, his hair a huge mop of black curls. Like Thomar, he was only wearing a pair of shorts and a simple leather collar, showing that he must be a pet as well.
Their game seemed to involve lots of running, shouting and giggling.
Since Thomar appeared perfectly happy, Robert saw no reason to interrupt. Instead, he settled in the same spot he had occupied the previous afternoon. Immediately, the white-uniformed waiter bustled over with his ever-present, pleasant smile. How could the guy appear so genuinely delighted every time? Then again, this certainly was a pleasant place to work in.
Robert ordered his usual breakfast of toast, fried bacon, scrambled eggs and black coffee, supplemented with a bunch of croissants. Their smell, wafting across the dome couldn't be ignored – irresistible, as they were apparently just out of the oven.
His coffee arrived first. Robert cradled the cup in his hands and inhaled deeply .
His trainers, way back when he had been a boy, had told him again and again that any sort of addiction was something a pet must not have. He had tried to heed their words. But with the years, several addictions had sneaked their way into his life nonetheless. Harmless addictions, not like he was a junkie. He needed his fix of coffee in the morning or he would be cranky. He needed his afternoon drink or he would be depressed. He needed a good fuck every now and then or he would get twitchy and aggressive. Nothing too serious. Apart from the fact that he needed those things, which of course was a bad thing for a pet.
The first sip slightly scalded his tongue, but that was part of the pleasure. Just as the aroma had suggested, the coffee was excellent.
With a content sigh, Robert leaned back in his chair only to be startled as he was suddenly addressed by a deep, male voice.
“That little minx yours?”
Robert looked up. And up further and still a bit more. The man standing next to him was huge – tall, broad and with the well-defined muscles of an athlete. He wore heavy leather pants and a simple white t-shirt with the symbol of a sun encircled by a chain, the short sleeves showing off cheap tattoos on his arms. His blonde hair was a mane, most of it held back by a leather thong, but some strands at his temples were braided and tied off with tiny metal bands. His beard was mostly cut short aside from two more, small braids under his chin. Around his neck and his right wrist, he wore metal chains forged from some odd metal that shifted in colour from light blue to deep purple.
If Robert had been asked to design a poster featuring a noble of House Corona on vacation, he would have looked exactly like the man.
The Corona were a minor noble house and an oddity in the Empire. They were the only ones who didn't hold land anywhere. They had originally been vassals of House Cournicova on Lorelei, but as their matriarchal rule had become ever stricter, they had literally packed their bags and moved out on a few large spaceships. They were nomadic now, roaming the fringes of the empire.
As far as Robert knew there were three or four fleets of them, travelling from system to system, each fleet consisting of a homeship and several smaller vessels with various specialisations. They were experts at mining asteroids and small moons on the edges of star systems where anyone rarely ventured and at salvaging space junk. They also were a fighting force to be reckoned with and occasionally lent their warriors to other houses as mercenaries.
There were a few nobles who loudly doubted they were a Noble House at all, but they were properly registered on Lagoona and their Prince had sworn allegiance to Emperor Elisander just like every other House.
However, what was one of them doing on a high-class pleasure cruiser?
The Corona cocked his head questioningly towards the beach and Robert remembered that he had been asked a question. He followed the man's line of sight to Thomar, who was playing with his new friend.
Not sure which one of the boys the noble was referring to he answered cautiously, “The brown-haired one is mine.”
The Corona smiled in a way Robert could only call open and friendly. “I hope he plays nice. Wouldn't want my little darling to get hurt.”
So the other pet was his. How entirely unusual, or so Robert guessed. He didn't know much more about House Corona than what he had seen of them on TV where they occasionally appeared in the role of rugged, but not-too-smart, sidekick to a hero of greater origins.
“Thomar is perfectly nice,” he lied, sounding entirely sincere, “a real puppy.”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” the Corona shook his head, “I didn't introduce myself. I'm Sir Mattis Keel of House Corona.”
He offered his hand in greeting and Robert accepted it, afraid that he would get his bones crushed in the other man's grip, but it ended up being just a polite handshake. Someone looking like a brutal barbarian didn't necessarily have to be one.
“Baron Robert of House Eder,” Robert introduced himself in return, managing not to wince at the fact that he was calling himself a noble.
“Would you mind if I join you?” Sir Mattis asked politely. “Haven't had breakfast yet myself.”
He seemed nice enough, so Robert gestured to the empty chair at his table. Immediately, the waiter materialised and took the Corona's orders. Coffee was highest on his agenda as well. What a likeable guy.
“I just got up,” the Corona explained without being asked, again glancing at the playing boys, “that little beasty kept me up half of the night. He is so insatiable...” He looked at Robert curiously. “Are all pets like that?”
“Well, he looks like a healthy, young boy so that's to be expected,” Robert answered carefully. “You've not had him for long, have you?”
Sir Mattis grinned a bit sheepishly and rubbed his beard. “You could say that. He's a gift. I am in charge of business negotiations for my homeship and we have had some good hauls lately. I guess our trading partners are trying to bribe me. They presented me with this cruise, and the matching pet, yesterday morning.”
The man had to have some desirable wares on offer to warrant such treatment, Robert mused. But that wasn't too surprising. The Corona were known to come back with the rarest metals and minerals from their system fringe exploration runs. Robert also wondered how those trading partners had managed to secure passage for the Corona on this particular cruise. After all, they also would have had to prove he would not hurt any of the other pets onboard. Not something he was going to ask about, though.
“And, is the bribery working?” he asked instead.
Sir Mattis laughed and Robert felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine. The man's open manner and virile looks were a dangerous combination. Robert tried to shake the image of those large hands grabbing him and failed. He hid his embarrassment behind his coffee cup.
“The cruise is nice, I guess,” Sir Mattis answered his question. “But the boy makes my head swirl. He's so sweet I want to cuddle him all day. I should have asked my trading partners if I get to keep him after this cruise.” He sighed deeply and smiled ruefully at Robert again. “Oh, who am I kidding? I'll pay them whatever they want for him... That was probably the idea right from the start.”
Robert had no problem relating to his plight.
Their breakfasts were delivered to the table and they both busied themselves with eating for a while. The bacon and toast were perfectly crispy and the croissants heavenly, as expected. The Corona had also ordered a large plate of various sliced fruit and they exchanged fruit for pastries. Slowly Robert had to admit that being on vacation was a nice thing when you were not the pet and supposed to serve as entertainment. Kind of nice. Apart from that dangling threat of execution by public torture.
He had managed to relax into his chair, his belly pleasantly filled, when Sir Mattis checked on their pets again and choked on his piece of lima fruit.
“Oh dear, are they allowed to do that?”
Robert glanced down towards the beach and felt his own mouth go dry.
He realised that it had been a while that he had heard the boys shout and now he knew why. They were lying in the sand side by side, each with one hand buried in the other's shorts and kissing passionately. It was obvious they were jerking each other off.
“Should we... do something...?” Sir Mattis asked, looking at Robert.
He was insanely cute in his helplessness. Robert suppressed a groan as all available sights turned him on.
“I think...” he said and coughed as his mouth didn't want to work. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I think, as long as they both want it, it's perfectly fine.”
“Uh...” Sir Mattis watched their two pets for a moment.
They were completely oblivious to everything around them, moving against each other, Thomar's lighter skin beautifully contrasting with the darker one of Sir Mattis' pet. They were too far away to hear but Robert had no problem imagining both of them moan with pleasure, sweat glistening on their skins...
Sir Mattis groaned and reached below the table, obviously adjusting his pants.
“That boy is going to be the death of me,” he said with a shaky laugh.
Robert joined him, both in the laughing and the adjusting.
He silently vowed that there would be fucking. As soon as he managed to get Thomar back into their suite.
***
The only sound in the room is the even breathing of the boy on the bed.
His eyes are closed, his long lashes painting dark smudges on his cheeks. His mouth curves in a slight smile. Under his soft hair, there is the shine of a gold collar and the twinkle of an earring.
He lies on his side, his head pillowed on one elbow, his other hand loosely curled in the crumpled sheets. The lower leg stretched straight, his toes curled in the same sheets, the other leg drawn up slightly bent, hiding his groin.
He is naked.
His skin should be flawless to make the picture perfect, but it isn't.
There are bruises. So fresh they are barely blooming. Bruises of hands gripping him too hard.
The boy's master is watching these bruises angrily. The men who caused them have been dealt with. They will never again lay hand on the master's property or on anything else.
Still, they have stolen from the master. The pleasure of being the first to touch the boy. The master worries they have also stolen some of what made this boy so precious. His trusting, gentle soul may harden now.
The boy is smiling now, trusting in the protection his master's presence offers, but the master...
“What are you typing?”
Thomar's voice froze Robert in place, his hands hovering over the keyboard, his breath caught in his throat. He had been certain that Thomar was asleep. Either he had misjudged or the sounds of the keyboard had woken him up. The problem was that now, he was awake.
He glanced over to the bed where Thomar rested. He hadn't opened his eyes.
What was he going to answer now that he was caught? His thoughts were racing to come up with some boring explanation. He certainly didn't want his young master to read what he had written. His entirely misguided, demented attempts at putting into words what had been running through his head. He should have known that nothing good would come from acting on his rampant sexual urges and the need to take control for once.
With growing despair, Robert realised that he was taking way too long with his answer.
“Uh... nothing...?” Now he had made it worse.
“Can I read it?”
Still Thomar hadn't moved at all, his relaxed pose in stark contrast with his voice, clear and wide awake.
Robert's hand had crept to the delete key all by itself. Get rid of the piece of evidence before he finds it, a shrill voice in his head demanded. But somehow, he resisted.
Thomar had allowed him to take control, Robert was rather sure that he had enjoyed it as much as Robert himself. Now, maybe he would not push, maybe he would be strange again.
“No?” Robert answered, his voice shaky with fear, his finger hovering over the delete key.
Thomar opened his eyes, breaking the image of the pretty, harmless, slave boy resting on his master's bed with the sharp intellect and curiosity now revealed.
“Oh?” he asked, sounding intrigued, but making no move.
He studied Robert silently and Robert wondered what he saw. A mouse caught with her tail under the cat's paw probably.
Thomar's eyes drifted closed again.
“Okay.”
Robert stared at him with a mix of relief and exasperation. How could things be so impossibly simple for Thomar that were just as impossibly hard for Robert? He laid his hand down next to the keyboard and watched it tremble and listened to the blood pounding in his ears.
It had been much easier with his head not as clear as it was now and his cock directing him.
After that hot performance on the beach, Thomar and the other pet had joined their respective masters at breakfast, both displaying happy, sated smiles and being cuddly.
Mattis hadn't taken much of that before he excused himself. He had picked up his cute pet and carried it away in true barbarian fashion with the pet giggling and waving at Thomar over his master's shoulder.
With Thomar curled up by Robert's feet, insistently snuggling with his leg, Robert had concluded that his 'pet' wouldn't mind some more sex as well. He wasn't as strong as Mattis, so such a dramatic display of ownership as physically hauling Thomar back to their suite had not been available to him. He had made do with pulling Thomar into his lap, kissing and fondling him a bit. He was sure that Thomar wouldn't have terribly minded if they had taken it further than that right there and then, but that had been too far out of Robert's comfort zone. Way out. He didn't mind getting fucked over a table by a few nobles at a party with the mob cheering, but he was incapable of doing the fucking.
So he had managed to get Thomar back to their suite before his 'pet' got his hands too far into Robert's pants.
With Thomar apparently in such a playful mood and Robert feeling way too horny, he had decided to test how far Thomar was willing to go with this whole pet charade.
Settling on the bed, he ordered his 'pet' to strip.
Thomar hesitated only a second. His face changed from surprised to indecent and back to cute pet.
His stripping skills left a lot to be desired, but he made that up with pure eagerness to please. And with him wearing only his tiny shorts, even a professional would have been hard pressed to come up with a lengthy show.
Before Thomar was able to pick up the reins again, Robert ordered him onto the bed. He got scared for a moment when Thomar assumed a submissive position on hands and knees without being told to. Apart from training other pets, Robert had hardly ever had an opportunity to assume such an active role.
The only time that he had come close to fucking Thomar had been with Robert on his back and Thomar riding him, taking whatever suited him. This was vastly different.
Robert had no idea what was going on in Thomar's head as he knelt there, trembling under Robert's touch, leaning into it. Of course, Quetzal were known to live on the kinky side of sex, on the kinky side of everything, really. But Thomar had never seemed the submissive type. His complete change to obedient, pliable toy was somewhat disconcerting.
Not that Robert worried too much about that as it happened. It was way too sexy to contemplate. He took his time petting and preparing Thomar, but then he fucked him as hard as any of his more assertive masters had ever fucked him.
There was a reason why bruises were forming on Thomar's hips and thighs. Robert had put them there, not some imaginary bad men. It was immensely satisfying to know that he had marked Thomar like that. It was what had gotten him thinking about what it would be like if he really was the master and Thomar the pet.
While Thomar curled up to sleep with a well-fucked, happy smile on his face, Robert wasn't able to find rest.
His imagination ran away with him. In his fantasy, Thomar turned into an innocent boy in need of protection from evil and Robert himself turned into a powerful noble who would cherish his pretty pet and keep him safe from harm.
He sat at the small desk in the bedroom, drinking brandy and watching Thomar sleep. It was so easy to believe with Thomar naked, wearing that accursed slave collar, nothing giving away who he really was.
To get these crazy notions out of his head, Robert decided to write them down. It had seemed like a good idea. Some harmless exercise to clear his mind. It didn't cross his mind that Thomar could wake up and find out what Robert was doing. Thomar was rather lenient, but Robert very much doubted that he would have appreciated Robert's mad fantasies.
He looked at the screen again, re-reading what he had written down. It was ridiculous, of course. But it touched something inside of him.
He looked back over to Thomar who was breathing regularly. This time, Robert had no idea if he was asleep or not. He never knew with Thomar, he admitted to himself. Every single one of his previous masters had been easier to figure out than this boy.
Again, his finger hovered over the delete key. It would be much safer, of course. But Thomar had agreed not to read it. And Robert wanted to keep it. Wanted to believe Thomar. Wanted to trust.
With a soundless sigh, he hit 'save' instead.
***
The next three days on the Aurora Aida passed amazingly peacefully. Thomar didn't mention Robert's writing again and Robert was grateful that his master let it slip.
Thomar spent most of the days playing on the beach and Robert increasingly got the impression that he was catching up on some carefree childhood. It made him wonder what growing up among a N'Ptalini tribe had been like. Not as restrictive as growing up at a ducal court, surely. But it must have been hard to be the only human among probably rather primitive N'Ptalini.
Robert spent his days mostly in a comfortable deck chair, reading. There were plenty of romance novels to catch up on and the Aurora Aida provided an extensive library of free downloads to his reading pad. To his own surprise, he also spent some time with Sir Mattis at the bar. They didn't talk much, much to Robert's relief – he was sure he would at some point have betrayed his true status – but instead watched their pets play in companionable silence. The big Corona was surprisingly pleasant company.
Thomar and Sir Mattis' pet seemed to click and were almost inseparable after the first day. The longer Robert watched them, the more he wondered if Thomar was going to try and buy the other slave after their vacation was over. At some point, it was so prominent in his mind he couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore and he asked Thomar about it.
The reaction was, as usual, not at all what he had expected. Thomar looked at him oddly for a moment, laughed and shook his head no.
When asked what was so funny about the question, he smirked and informed Robert that he didn't have to know everything.
Faced with the options of either making himself sick with increasingly insane notions of what his young master might be hiding or ignoring the matter, Robert forced himself to ignore it.
Evenings they spent at the various restaurants on the ship, enjoying exotic cuisine in different settings.
With Thomar spending so much time with his friend, his sexual appetite was moderated somewhat, allowing Robert to keep up with it. There was no repeat of the 'submissive pet' scenario, but their sex was on a much more even level than at home with switching back and forth between active and passive part. It ranged from passionate to mellow and Robert caught himself starting to think of Thomar more as a lover than 'pet' or 'master'. A dangerous thought, one he tried to suppress with rapidly decreasing success.
Robert wasn't sure if Thomar was taking them in this direction deliberately or if it was happening without any forethought. Some part of him actually considered broaching the subject with Thomar, but the rest of him violently recoiled from talking so openly to his master. Especially after the cryptic non-answer about the other pet.
So far, their vacation had been quite nice. Robert's greatest fear – that someone would spot that he wasn't a noble at all and that he would die a horrible death for posing as one – had proved as unfounded as Thomar had promised.
Actually, it was scary how easy it was to pretend. Robert had picked up so many mannerisms from the various nobles who had owned him that he had no problem giving a credible show. Most of the real nobles present on the cruiser were less credible than he was. So he had started to relax and not worry so much for a change.
Of course, he should have known it would not end well.
He had been sitting at the bar with Sir Mattis, drinking brandy and eating peanuts, watching their pets play. This time the two little minxes had picked up a new toy. Another pet.
For a moment, both Robert and Sir Mattis had been worried when they started pestering the tall, athletic black man, who was using the lagoon for a vigorous swimming workout. But apparently, he didn't mind at all as he allowed the two boys to coax him to the beach. Fascinated by his ebony skin and shaved head, Thomar and his friend hadn't lost any time in wrestling the other pet down, stealing his swimming trunks and starting to do naughty things to him.
It had been amusing to watch Sir Mattis blush again.
Everything had been perfectly fine until the other pet's owner appeared.
At first, Robert hadn't recognised the middle-aged noble. Wearing a traditional Kyothari robe but with his black hair cut short to form a tousled mop, he could have been from any House, but the small embroidery of the feathered serpent identified him as a Quetzal. He had asked them with a deeply troubled expression if they had seen his pet, Luther. But before they got a chance to answer he had already spotted his wayward pet, laying buried under two happy, giggling boys on the beach.
With a relieved sigh, he had dropped into a chair at their table, drained Robert's drink without asking and immediately apologised.
He had explained that he had woken up from his after-lunch nap to find his pet gone. He did seem wound a little tightly to Robert, but he was a noble so he had the right to be as eccentric as he pleased.
He had introduced himself as Lord Kerish Quetzal.
It had taken Robert about two minutes to remember where he had heard that name before. By then, he had already introduced himself with his fake noble title as well.
And now, he was sitting at the same table as the Emperor's cousin, who he had lied to. Not just 'cousin' as in 'he's a member of the same House'. No, Lord Kerish was the son of the Emperor's aunt on the Quetzal side of the family. He was as royal as it got, outside of Emperor Elisander, Empress Carlotta and their daughter, the Imperial Heiress Nimueh. Lord Kerish wasn't a contender for the throne since he had years ago abdicated any claims to succession to pursue a life of artistic endeavours in painting and poetry.
Robert had no clue how the Quetzal hadn't realised yet that Robert was sweating with fear and listening to his chatting like a bunny hypnotised by a snake.
“...really do look good together,” Lord Kerish was just saying to Sir Mattis. “I wonder if you would permit me to paint your little darling with my Luther. I promise he'll be gentle.”
“Hm... that actually sounds intriguing,” the Corona answered with an expression that Robert had come to recognise as mildly aroused. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“I don't have the motif yet... But it would definitely have to be that little minx riding Luther, so I have the lighter colour on top...”
“I'd want to be there when you paint them, though...”
“Of course! Wouldn't do to have the little sweety get scared without his master...”
Robert was going dizzy with listening to them. What was he going to answer if the Prince wanted to paint Thomar getting fucked by his gorgeous black pet? 'Sorry, but it would be inappropriate for the Duke of Aylian to be painted that way?' Hysteria was rising up in Robert and he knew it was going to bubble over soon. He couldn't deal with this. How had he ever believed he would be able to deal with something like this?
“Master?”
Robert nearly jumped out of his skin as Thomar suddenly spoke next to him. In his panic, he hadn't noticed that he had left the happy pile on the beach and now stood next to Robert's chair.
Before Robert got out a word, Thomar was already insistently tugging on his sleeve.
“Master, I think I've stepped into something sharp. It hurts...” His voice had a petulant, whiny tone Robert had never heard from him before and his big brown eyes were slightly teary. Robert noticed only now that he was standing on one foot with the other gingerly resting against his calve.
Only then did it penetrate that this was an excellent opportunity to escape.
“Oh, puppy,” he choked out not very credibly, “let's go back to the suite and check, yes?”
He rose from his chair and politely bowed to Lord Kerish who looked understanding. “If you'll excuse me, gentlemen.” This time his voice was a little more stable.
He put one arm around Thomar's hip so he could lean on him and not put too much pressure on his hurt foot. He even managed to appear steady on his own feet.
They had barely left the central dome and entered the corridor leading back to the jungle habitat when Thomar suddenly reversed the grip Robert had on him and put his foot firmly back on the ground. From one second to the other 'pet close to tears' changed to 'genuinely worried master'.
“Robert, are you all right?” Thomar asked, one hand on Robert's hip, the other cupping his cheek.
Robert blinked at him in confusion, before he closed his eyes and sagged against the comforting touch of his suddenly re-appeared master. He leaned into Thomar's caress.
“I'm so sorry.” Thomar continued speaking, gently and reassuringly. “When I saw who was sitting at your table, I knew you'd get scared.”
Thomar's hand was rubbing soothing circles against Robert's side while his other hand rested on his cheek. Seeking more closeness, Robert leaned his brow against his master's silently.
“Sssh... it's okay now. I've got you.” Thomar's arms came up to wrap around him protectively and with sudden clarity Robert realised that his master was right. It was okay now. Thomar had noticed his distress. Thomar had come to his rescue. Thomar cared. Everything was okay.
He didn't resist as his master gently steered him back to their suite, placed him in a chair and poured him a stiff drink. Only once he had drained half of the glass in big gulps did he look up at Thomar again, who looked deeply worried about him.
His smile was a bit shaky but it served its purpose to let Thomar know that he would recover.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
***
Robert smiled fondly as he carefully folded each piece of elegant clothing and put them away on the top shelf of the large wardrobe he shared with Thomar. They were back home and it was time to return to an attire more fitting for an ageing pet. Even though the pleasure cruise with Thomar had held some moments of panic and terror, it had also been full of good times and there were many pleasant memories attached to his 'noble costume'. Memories he intended to treasure.
Thomar had told him to unpack and store both their clothes. First, he had put away the few items Thomar had used, not much work with a few shorts and t-shirts. Now, he was working his way through his own, much more extensive, stack.
They had arrived back at the ducal palace on Aylian only two hours ago, but already Thomar was back at work. Thomar had paid the extra herons for a private port directly back to the Ducal Suite, so he had been able to change back to his normal self unobserved. It had been strange to watch him put on his severe, black uniform, with the green-feathered Quetzal dragon emblazoned on the back of his jacket, to see his face transformed from beaming, happy boy to cool, ruthless noble. And how effortlessly that change apparently was for Thomar.
When he left the suite to pick up his bodyguards and the reigns of his planet, there had been nothing left of the 'pet' Robert had spent the last week with.
“So how was the vacation?”
Robert looked up from his work to notice T'lark, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms, watching him curiously.
Over the last year, he had grown used to Thomar's bodyguards mostly ignoring him like a piece of furniture, but since his master's memorable nineteenth birthday and the N'Ptalinis' gift to the young Duke, they had taken more of an interest in him. Robert had no clue what exactly they saw in him, but for some reason, he seemed to have gained a measure of their respect.
“It was good,” he replied evenly, remembering vividly how strongly F'leer, the Captain of Thomar's guards, had been opposed to the whole idea.
He knew that T'lark could pry into his thoughts and find out what a rollercoaster of emotions it had been, but he hoped the warrior would be polite enough not to.
“Thomar seems happy and relaxed,” T'lark said thoughtfully. “I think maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.”
Another unusual thing about Thomar's bodyguards, they each had their own opinion about things and didn't follow their Captain blindly. Sometimes Robert had no idea how Thomar put up with them.
Robert went back to his work, though he felt the N'Ptalini's eyes follow his every move. He wasn't surprised when T'lark spoke again, but he was surprised about what he said.
“When I picked you up at the spaceport a year ago, I didn't think he would keep you.”
Robert's hands stilled, but he took his time to consider if he wanted an answer to the question prominent in his mind. Coming to a clear decision, he looked up at T'lark.
“Why?”
The N'Ptalini shrugged in a fashion Robert would have called sheepish on a human.
“I'm not sure,” he answered, surprisingly honest. “I didn't know him well back then myself. You seemed dull. Used up. But apparently he saw something in you. You've changed.”
He smiled and with a start, Robert realised that it was not his typical, condescending sneer but an open, almost companionable smile.
“I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd almost say you are growing a backbone, pet,” T'lark added with a confidential smirk.
Robert frowned at him and T'lark laughed out loud, his quills rustling.
“See? A year ago you would have been cringing if I said that about you.”
Robert couldn't help it. He laughed too. The N'Ptalini was right. He wasn't so sure if it was a good thing, but apparently it was not under his control.
Taking the offered opportunity, he asked what he could never ask Thomar himself, “So do you think it is something the Duke likes?”
T'lark's reaction wasn't what he would have expected. The warrior snorted, deeply amused. “Gimme a break. He's besotted with you.”
From anyone else, Robert would have waved this off as nonsense, but he was talking to an empath and telepath. So he blinked at T'lark, stunned.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” T'lark grinned.
“Oh.”
Robert occupied himself with folding up more clothing. He had hoped and maybe even guessed that Thomar liked him, but to hear it said aloud by someone he could only believe was a different matter. It was elating and slightly uncomfortable at the same time.
“Anyway,” T'lark continued once more, “what I wanted to say is I agree with Thomar. You're not just some cheap fuck toy. I kind of like you, actually.”
Robert's own snort of amusement was out before he could stop it and since it was too late to be polite anyway, he followed up with the comment on his mind, “You need to work on your compliments.”
When he looked up the N'Ptalini was grinning at him good-humouredly. “Yeah, I know. I'm trying to pick it up from you, but I suck at being nice to softskins. To humans.”
What a strange and wonderful thing to be able to trade friendly banter like that.
“And you'd make a terrible pet.”
T'lark nodded in complete agreement. He suddenly cocked his head to the side in what Robert had come to recognise as him picking up something telepathically. He was always paying attention to Thomar or one of his fellow bodyguards thinking loudly in his direction. The message was short as T'lark focused on Robert again almost immediately.
“Thomar asks that you come to the throne room when you are finished here.”
“Oh, is everything all right?” Now that was a stupid question. As if his master would call him if he was in any kind of trouble.
“Yeah,” T'lark chuckled. “He misses you, he said.”
Robert caught himself before he could say 'oh' a third time. His master missed him. After being parted from him a mere two hours. How entirely charming. He still put the rest of the clothes away. Wouldn't hurt to let Thomar wait a tiny bit longer.
T'lark was waiting for him when he was done and accompanied him to the throne room in a silence that felt much more comfortable to Robert than it ever had before. Suddenly, the N'Ptalini's presence was not slightly threatening, but protective.
The throne room was filled to capacity with members of the court, nobles from Aylian and off-planet, demons, and various commoners. Each of them was trying to get the best position in order to be the next to present their grievances or propositions to the returned Duke who was lounging on the throne itself in his customary position, with one leg thrown over the armrest and the other drawn up, one hand casually resting on the knee. Thomar somehow managed to look both attentive and bored at the same time.
Robert skirted the edge of the room, picking up a huge pillow from a chair near a window on his way. He knew exactly where he wanted to be. He stepped up to the throne from the sidelines. Immediately, he had Thomar's attention who smiled at him. Robert placed the pillow in front of the throne and gracefully settled on it. A moment later, Thomar placed the leg he had had drawn up down next to him and Robert leaned against his knee. Another moment later, he felt his master's hand possessively caress his neck and rest there.
There was no visible reaction from the assembled people, but Robert sensed the subtle shift at this open display of affection. It was quite satisfying.
He let his eyes drift half closed, not paying much attention to the proceedings.
He was content. If this vacation had taught him one thing, it was that he was not cut out to be a master or a free man. He liked not being responsible. He liked being cared for. He liked being owned. He loved being Thomar's pet. This was where he belonged.