The Darkest Sword

walked closer, the silks he was wearing today swishing with the movement. He perched on the other end of the window seat as far from Ashiyn as he could be. “It is a terrible thing, yes. I just wanted you to see that. You have no reason to feel unsafe here. That is a practice I will not allow.”
“My Master takes whatever women suit his fancy at the time. Sometimes he kills their husbands so they will submit to him. He never keeps them. He uses them; sometimes they get with child and he kills them. I don’t even know what happens to the ones that live,” Ashiyn said, giving Diredin a confused look. “I have seen him take them. I thought that was how things were done. Now I come here, and it is all different.”
“Rhadamanthus is a brute. I am glad you got sent here to learn how to get what you want and need in a more appropriate manner and that you’re smart enough to understand why it needs to be that way,” Diredin said with a smile. “You are very intelligent, Ashiyn. And powerful. And beautiful. Charismatic. I dare say you’ll even be charming once you leave here, or at least know how to pretend you are well enough to make others believe you.”
Ashiyn crossed his arms. He’d talked a lot to Diredin in the time he’d been here. He was closer to the elf perhaps than to anyone else.
“Were you hurt that way, Ashiyn?” Diredin asked after a moment, hesitant. “I swear if Rhadamanthus has laid a hand on you that way…”
“No!” Ashiyn said, sitting up, alarmed. Then he shook his head. “My Master just beats me to death nearly every day because I can’t control my tongue when my mind thinks terrible things I shouldn’t say.”
Diredin shook his head. “That’s horrible as well. But I don’t want you to think about that. You’re safe here. What is it that upsets you, then? The women your Master uses?”
“No. I have a friend. I think he’s my friend,” Ashiyn said, his brow furrowed. “He’s with Rurik.”
The color faded from Diredin’s already pale face, and he glanced out the window toward the black spire that could be seen far in the distance. “Oh, I see.”
“You know what Rurik does?” Ashiyn asked, surprised.
“I know first-hand what Rurik does,” Diredin said bitterly, his eyes narrowed. “Rurik is even worse than Rhadamanthus that way. He spells people while he abuses them. Turns them into mindless slaves to whatever he wants to do with them. It’s not just raping them. Sometimes he’ll spell them into just lying there while he tears them open for his rituals. They’re alive but unable to do anything except submit to their deaths.”
Ashiyn stared at Diredin, then clenched his fists. “He won’t do that to Soryn, will he?”
Diredin blinked, then raised his long, arched brows. “Soryn? Rurik’s high priest? That’s your friend?”
Ashiyn pursed his lips. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but it was too late now.
“Well, I don’t think you have to worry about Rurik sacrificing his high priest,” Diredin said, thoughtful. “The other horrors that poor boy endures though…”
“I don’t want to know,” Ashiyn said, cutting him off. He didn’t want details. He was already upset enough with the implications.
Diredin rose, looking disturbed as well. “Don’t worry, young Prince. When you leave here, you will have full control of your desires and your tongue.” With that Diredin left Ashiyn alone with his thoughts once more.

CHAPTER SIX
As the year passed, it became clear Ashiyn had learned all he could from Diredin’s palace of pleasure. He had even learned how to control his retorts, to an extent anyway. At least he didn’t voice them as often. He had started to pack his things to return home when Diredin entered the room.
Diredin shut the door behind him, his usually care-free demeanor replaced with one that resembled dread. “Ashiyn, I don’t want you to go back to Rhadamanthus.”
Ashiyn dropped his brand new commissioned golden goblet into the bag he was packing, then gave Diredin a questioning look. “What? What are you talking about? I have to go back to Rhadamanthus. I’m Prince. It’s where I belong.”
Diredin moved closer and sat on the bed. “Ashiyn, I want to have one more serious talk with you. In the time you’ve been here, I’ve seen you eye some of the male pairs with curiosity, but you’ve taken great offense to any who have shown interest in you. Why?”
Ashiyn snarled. “Men being attracted to each other is a sickness. It shows weakness.”
Diredin rested his cheek on his hand, languidly stretching out. “Does it now? Do you think I’m weak, Ashiyn?”
Ashiyn hesitated at that. “No.”
“I quite enjoy sex with everyone. Female or male,” Diredin smirked just a little. “Does that make me weak?”
Ashiyn scowled. He didn’t even have his own good argument for this topic; it was just something he’d parroted from Rhadamanthus beating it into him, and now that his Master wasn’t here to explain, he was confused. “My Master says it is not done. It’s inappropriate. His brother is sick.”
“Oh, Rurik is sick; on that we agree. Rurik abuses children. That’s an entirely different topic,” Diredin sat up, suddenly unamused. “As you’ve learned, there is quite a difference between willing sex and rape. I don’t want to hear you regurgitate what your brute Master claims. I want to know what you really think.”
Ashiyn returned his attention to folding his clothes into his travel bag. “I don’t have my own opinion. It feels wrong to me. I like women just fine, thank you. I think there are plenty of them in the world to entertain me for some time.”
Diredin considered that, then sat back. “Fair enough. Everyone has their preferences. If you truly only want to have women, that is your choice, and