Young Writers Society

The Ashes, Sera, and Emery let the conversation lull for a bit before Mattathias piped up again. "Papa said you used to be owned!"
"Mattathias!" Sara stared at him, scandalized. "That's not something you bring up, and so rudely!"

(Nooo CHILD)

Ky and Tadaaki both choked, instantly blushing. How the fuck did you answer that?

It…

It wasn’t taunting like Aleth’s friends who knew the truth were when they threw the captivity in their face. Hell, like Aleth himself when he would hiss an ‘I own you’ or ‘your ass is mine’ or any other way of expressing the same sentiment.

No, there was no malice here.

But there also wasn’t a question attached. Just a statement. So. What was one supposed to say in response?

Tadaaki stared at his plate as his face got warmer and warmer.

Ky looked from the little boy, to his mother, to Ash, then back again. “…that’s true, yes.”

Gaius gazed at his son in mild irritation. Mattathias looked anxiously between his parents, on the verge of tears.
"Why?" Marcella ventured, and Sara's mouth dropped open.

Well, this was just getting worse and worse.

Tadaaki was staring even harder at his plate, shoulders rounding as his presence shrank more and more. He was barely breathing, remembering how it’d happened. The way he just froze in fear until it was too late. His stupidity. Cowardice.

Ky also didn’t know how to respond. It didn’t seem like the time for a lecture on the evils of slavery; nor was it her place to give such a lecture. So, why had she been a slave? She hesitated a long moment then answered quietly, “I didn’t fight hard enough.”

"Why not?"
"That's enough," Gaius said quietly. "This isn't any of your business, Marcella. You know better than to pry like this."
"I was just curious." She pouted.
"I'm sorry about them." Sara turned to Ky and Tadaaki. "They're young, but they know better than that."

"It's fine." Ky was blushing profusely but forced a clearly-forced smile. "We don't mind, ma'am. They're reasonable questions."

Tadaaki still couldn't find it within him to look up from his plate, but he nodded in agreement.

Ky and Tadaaki were slaves. Mattathias and Marcella were nobles. Nobles had every right in the world to demand anything they'd like from slaves. And that was doubly true when said nobles rescued you from your captivity mere hours before.

"But they were asked poorly and at an inappropriate time. Marcella, Mattathias, please apologize to our guests."
"I'm sorry," They chorused, but Mattathias was the only one who sounded truly regretful. Marcella just sounded sullen.

Tadaaki and Ky both panicked slightly at nobles apologizing to the likes of them. But. Well. Lady Ash wanted the children to apologize, and she wanted Ky and Tadaaki to accept the apology. So. They would.

"It's okay," Ky said, nodding to them. "... thank you."

Tadaaki once again nodded in agreement, thankful that Ky was here to speak for him. He'd die if he was the one having to navigate all this. He already felt... bad. This whole situation was just... tense. And uncomfortable. And he wished that he could be... elsewhere.

Being in the infirmary with Aleth wasn't much better, he supposed. But at least there he knew the expectations. Knew to shut up and eat quietly. Knew he didn't have to make conversation. That made things far simpler than... whatever this was supposed to be.

Sara, satisfied, returned to her meal. Gaius kept his eyes on his children. Mattathias was sadly shoveling food into his mouth and Marcella was just eating.

Gods.

This meal was becoming oppressive.

Ky carefully took a sip of the watered wine, being sure to have a small enough drink that she wouldn't choke no matter what the little renegades may say next.

"Do you like aminals?" Mattathias asked timidly.

"Yessir." Gods, why was she sir-ing a child? She took a breath, embarrassed, and continued, "I do. I grew up on a farm when I was little."

He gasped. "Mama growed up on the farm too! What kind of aminals did you have?"

Tadaaki risked a quick glance up at that, surprised. But... but she was a noble. Nobles weren't farmers. Unless he meant, like, she owned the farm and a ton of people to work it for her. That would make more sense.

Ky had already been prepped on this bit of history, though she wasn't sure if she was supposed to know it or not. So instead, she focused on the boy's question with a little smile. "It was very small; just enough for me and my father. We had a horse and a milk cow and a pig and a few chickens. And a little garden."

"What was the horse's and cow's names?" he asked.