It took three men to pull Adam out of the cart with all of the chains on him. From the discussion the men were having while they struggled to get him out, he had more than just normal chains. There were binders, which prevented him from moving; shorteners, which reduced his range of movement if he could move; stoppers, which restricted resource usage; and weighted chains, which were super heavy for him, a help to all of the other types. His new owner was apparently quite happy that he had awoken, as it allowed him to get his deposit back for the chains. Provided Adam could be safely constrained without them.
Still unaware of what exactly had happened, Adam had no idea why there were so many chains on a child, yet alone of so many different types. He was also unaware that all of them were made to resize to match his shifted form in the case that he attempted to access it.
Eventually Adam was seated at the end of the cart, or at least they had leaned him against the end of the cart. He was evidently chained to a tabletop to make transporting him easier. Still buried under the chain, it wasn’t as though he could sit up on his own, so it was the compromise they reached. Once upright, a stream of water was squeezed from a waterskin into his mouth, and then the talking began.
The clean shaven man from earlier sat himself on a stool across from Adam and started things off. “My name is Duke Quentin Roberts Westbrook DeVille. You will address me as milord or sir, but in the presence of polite company it will be Your Grace, or Duke DeVille. Understood?”
Adam wasn’t exactly happy to be enslaved, twice over at that, but he could follow simple instructions. He was also curious to see how this would all break down. At the moment he had absolutely no other options.
His class was brand new. He had no idea how to use it, what abilities or skills it had, or how to access them. In fact, he didn’t even know how to find those things out. The only time he had seen anything about his class had been when he had been inside his own mind.
Adam suddenly realized two things. One, he would have been able to see everything he wanted to about his class if he had just been slightly less psychotic while locked up in his own skull. And two, everyone was staring at him waiting for a response. “Understood, milord.”
He also understood his place for the moment, which was to shut up, and let the important person talk. He had no clue what etiquette was, how to spell it, or that it was even a word in the first place, but he did understand basic power dynamics. The guy with the guards, the weapons, and the chair gets to talk first. The guy in chains only gets to talk if the other guy lets him, he’s a masochist, or has a death wish.
The Duke nodded. “Excellent. I’ve been told that you have been unconscious for some time, and likely have no idea what has happened. Normally I could care less what knowledge a slave has about their circumstances, but as I acquired you specifically to care for my children I believe enlightening you may be beneficial.”
He paused at this point, so Adam took the hint and carefully nodded. Then tacked on a thank you for good measure, “Thank you, milord.”
The small nod he got in return seemed to indicate he got it right. DeVille continued, “According to the reports I was shown you were sold into slavery to pay for the damages you caused to the city, as well as the funerary rites of a guardsman you killed by the name of Harold.” Seeing the look of absolute shock on the face of Adam, DeVille paused.
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Shock was an understatement for Adam’s state of mind. Harold was dead! First there was joy at being freed from the madman, then surprise that he had done the deed himself. Confusion at how that was possible, loss at still being enslaved and therefore not seeing the rest of the kids. The kids!
“The others?” A guard nudged him with a foot. “Sorry, milord. There were other children with me. Was there any word about them in the reports, milord?” He would have to work harder with the proper address if he was truly stuck in this situation. Adam also briefly contemplated when his System Assistance would kick in. Maybe one form of slavery would make the other a little easier to deal with.
The nobleman harrumphed. “Yes, the other children were mentioned. They have been returned to the orphanage unharmed, though there is no further mention of them.” Once more he paused. He wasn’t upset as of yet, but it was beginning to toe the line of taking too long, and he had questions of his own.
Relief surged through Adam. The monster was dead and the children were safe. He had succeeded in what he set out to do. Having accepted death in an attempt to secure this exact scenario, he figured life enslaved would most likely be better than the alternatives. The duke had said he bought him to take care of his children, and seemed to want to treat him well. There was no evidence indicating a need to free himself yet, so he would wait and see. Regardless, he was thankful for the information.
Bowing his head as best he could while restrained, and with tears leaking from his eyes, Adam said as respectfully as he could, “Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you.”
Seeing a child so emotional from a simple piece of news moved many of the duke's guards. They weren’t made of stone, many even having families of their own. They hadn’t read the reports that the duke had, but they had heard the rumors. And the duke had just said the kid killed a guardsman, so the implications were fairly clear. Kill the guard, save the kids. Impressive resume for his new position, hence the price the duke had paid.
DeVille was less moved by Adam’s display, or at least in the same way. He was pleased to see the respect and gratitude that his new possession was displaying, as it would make him a more efficient and loyal worker. He also noted that the boy truly did care about the children, indicating that he would possibly go to the same lengths for any other children he came to care for. An excellent use of his funds in that case. More importantly, a gift worthy of his wife attained at a fraction of the cost he anticipated paying.
“Of course,” the duke acknowledged. “Now, as I was saying earlier, I acquired you to care for, and protect, my children. The auction house did not have the specifics of your class, simply an Appraisal report, so read me your class description.”
“Uh, sorry, sir, I don’t know how to do that.” It wasn’t just that Adam didn’t know how to get the class description, he was also extremely embarrassed by the class he held. No boy ever aspired to be a Mother, yet alone knew how to deal with telling other men that that was what he had become.
“Which part? Reading, or getting your class description?”
“Getting the description, sir. The orphanage taught us how to read, but said anything about Classes could wait until we had one.”
“Hmm. Very well.” He gestured at one of the nearby men; older, bald, with a huge mustache. “Martin here will teach you. Three days, no more. That will give us time to discuss things before we reach home.” Adam and Martin both nodded.
“Now, about the chains. As you have been officially remanded into my custody, the slave brand will keep you under control if you attempt to attack me, or anyone under my aegis. That means my family, my staff, and my employees. Without knowing your class, or how it allowed you to kill a guardsman upon Awakening, I cannot grant you freedom to attack anyone. That means that if you do attack someone, anyone, then the brand will disable you and inflict you with crippling pain. When you can explain your class and abilities to me, we can revisit this issue. Are we clear?”
Once more Adam nodded, saying, “Yes, milord.”
“Then the chains can be removed and returned tonight. Martin, here is the key. I leave him in your hands for the evening. We leave tomorrow.”