Thread: Love a pet or force a slave? (Ghost_kitty x AfterNight)

Most days, Prince Kevin could get away with leaving court shortly after the afternoon meal. It wasn't technically speaking permitted, nobody in the Court was permitted to leave without their Lord's approval... but he'd been doing it since he was a pup, back when nobody cared as much, and as long as he wasn't a jerk about it Father didn't really mind. It wasn't like he had any actual functions at Court, he was just there. In principle he was supposed to be learning the intricacies of leadership, but it wasn't like Father's leadership style had much in the way of subtle intricacies he'd pretty much gotten it all down by the time he was 14, and truthfully, it made him kind of ill to watch. Today was different, though. It was his birthday, after all, and the afternoon meal had been held in his honor. He'd worn his dress uniform, a black and white thing that blended in with his husky-like coloration to the point where he practically seemed to be standing there in bare fur. He hated it, but it was the uniform, and he had to wear it. He'd had to give a speech. Nobody'd cared about it, it was all stock phrases written by the staff. But he'd had to give it. It was tradition. He'd been given gifts, which might have been OK except they too were circumscribed by tradition, and included nothing he actually liked. There'd even been a song written about him, which, again, showed not the slightest glimpse of original thought or creativity. Those things were in short supply in Lord Kevin's Court. Not because his father didn't like them -- in fact, he complained bitterly about how boring and stagnant everything was, and made plans for another war to relieve the monotony -- but simply because there were more ways to anger him than to please him, and clever courtiers had long ago done the math and figured out that experimenting with new ideas simply wasn't worth the risk. The ones who just had to be creative had all fled, or wound up crippled or dead, years ago. But apparently there was one more gift for him, which had been brought out amidst much pomp and circumstance after everything else had been taken care of. A gift from his father. Now that was novel. And then he saw the guard. And the leash. And the... rabbit. The rabbit didn't want to be there, that was obvious. It gave Kevin a sense of connection to this strange slave... Kevin didn't want to be there, either. But neither of them had a choice. The leash was delivered to him, and he held it, not quite sure what to do. Or, well, no, he understood what he was supposed to do... this was covered extensively in his training. At diplomatic gatherings he was to keep his hands behind his back, and his slave's leash tucked into his belt as it knelt a step behind him and to the side. But that rule was meant to cover his visits to other domains, where the slaves in question were long-standing advisors. But this was his own court, and the slave was clearly untrained. Very untrained, he realized, as the rabbit pulled on the leash that Kevin was holding only loosely, and it slipped out of his hands, amidst much general laughter at his expense, and a pained expression on his father's face. The guard retrieved the leash... eventually... and returned it to him with a completely featureless expression, which Kevin read as equal parts contempt for him and terror for what might happen if he made the Prince look bad... again. So he took the leash firmly, and before the rabbit could pull away he yanked it hard enough to choke. Come HERE. he commanded, in the strict voice they'd taught him to use with recalcitrant slaves. SIT.