Thread: Heir to the plantation. (Wreckles & AmyBeth)

Milien gazed at the slave girl who now stood before him. Despite being pleasant to the eyes the young heir's countenance were absent of any warmth. Having elicited more information from his father as to why there even was such a position for slaves, Milien had been nurturing a particular disdain for the idea. In his mind, slaves were equal to property. If they did not serve their purpose they were of no use and should be discarded. For this he scowled inwards at his father for even harboring a different viewpoint on the matter. Putting down the now empty glass on a massive wooden table he approached the girl, fixing his eyes on hers. I hear you've made quite a name for yourself here. Mother tells me you were first assigned domestic duty but were later deemed unfit due to a certain... Fiery temper I believe she put it. His voice was like a steel dagger wrapped in silk. And now you've found yourself a prominent position! How proud you must be. Milien almost spat out the words, taking a pause to study the girl from top to toe. Albeit being a head shorter than Milien, and having spent the day working the fields she still stood with rigidity in her back. Clenching his jaws momentarily, still keeping the slave pinned with his brown eyes. If there was a lack of firm discipline on the grounds the slaves might think they are anything more than just that. His insides churned, without warning and swift like a viper he smacked the girl with his open palm. The slap echoed firmly before dying out in the study, a perfect red imprint of his palm marked her cheek. This title. This 'speaker' does not exist anymore. You are nothing but a slave, never forget that. Milien calmed his spirits and regained his composure. He continued in a less fiery tone. Get out of my sight slave. When the girl was out of sight Milien exhaled and poured himself another glass of wine. Eyes were a great tool of measuring someone and the girl, this Mellina, was a topic he was sure he needed to revisit. No doubt the other slaves looked up to the girl, in a world where there was a distinct lack of power, even a glimpse of such were prominent. He needed to crush that. Slowly a plan was being formed, unlucky for her, Milien took pleasure in impairing his will onto others. A smirk appeared on his features as he bounced ideas of how to best subjugate her. He needed to be merciless here. Roughly ten minutes had passed before there was a hefty knock on the door. When having been told to enter by Milien the door swung open and the stature of a gargantuan man came into view. Milien, in stark contrast to how he had treated the slavegirl, was now smiling broadly as the man entered. And here I thought there weren't any trees large enough to cover you! The giant man scoffed heartily and made a slight bow before embracing his Lord and childhood friend. They kept growing while my height stagnated. He responded in a deep growling voice. Milien smirked, Yet you managed to elude father and I when we walked the grounds earlier. It is good to see you Lacroix. Always Milien had considered himself tall and crafty, athletic even but standing next to Lacroix who was almost two heads higher than him and certainly wider, well it put things into perspective. Lacroix was a few years older than Milien but they had grown up together as if no barrier existed. He was dressed in a brown leather tunic and pants as was customary for the Overseers of the Duflot family. The whip attached to his belt making the role even more obvious. Milien offered him some wine while the pair walked out to the terrace overlooking the grounds. You must tell me how you've been faring here Lacroix, but first business. A matter where I know your expertise will be a boon. You know of this 'speaker' of the slaves. Mellina I believe she's called. Tomorrow I need you to sabotage her work and make it look like she is at fault. She is to be disciplined of course, but before you do anything. Send word to me and wait for further instructions. With that said, the two returned to being old friends in dire need of catching up with one another.