Sinteya sold me out again.

God damn that bitch. I'd just wanted to visit Father without having to go through Pil and Pred. Her mother had their sacks filled, which is weird since she's always been said to be an expert on emptying sacks. The Lord knows Sinteya has her position as is because House Tempo's motto has always been, "The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice."

Father had told me his great grandfather, Kenderek, came across a llama so black that three thousand gold coins from the family vault were hauled all the way up to the Undis to get it a mate. Therein began the transformation of Kenderek Tempo, from brown-haired to black-haired, all through the magic of rubbing the head against the black llamas. He told me it was a great event called "Black Empowerment" as it started the family's rise to power, and I still haven't bothered verifying it since it's so ridiculous.  

Now, I didn't know if it was a metaphor to kissing ass, as I'd been seven at the time, but he'd instilled the idea of change. Worship the llamas, get blacker.

So why the fuck are these two bringing me to Sinteya's mother?

Purity Spatai, eldest of House Spatai's King Lisp. Ah, fuck. She has that face.

You know, even though I'd seen this face the previous times Pil and Pred had brought me along this gray marble-lined hall, I'd never really thought about it in a non-punishing way. One of the fucking whores at Jackson's had also just given me this face. Wait, why the fuck did I decide to talk to my father right after a session at the brothel? Right, I need more coins. It's kind of sad that instead of spending all my allowance on treats for Liso, it'd gone through fucking Jackson's.

Ah, Liso. She doesn't really compare to the woman approaching me, but she'd been oh-so-fine in ways that I thought--

"Vilrohas!" Purity's voice is like her body: young for her age. Father has a decade over her, but her appearance resembles Liso and other girls around my age, just a little bit more refined, and why the fuck am I thinking of fucking her again? "I'm not Liso Devir, you scoundrel!"

I expected "lewd boy" but I guess "scoundrel" is fine. "May I please get to Father's study room?" I request with the most puppy-like voice possible. I need my money as soon as allowable. Looking at Purity in her muslin shouldn't be acceptable, her long white hair complements the dress too much, and those bangs, oh those bangs.

Purity's near-invisible white eyebrows furrowed. Ah fuck, I fucked up. Should've started with a "Dearest of all Mothers, could I please have the pleasure of attending my father's educational abode?" Huh, her lips aren't that thin though, so I'm fine. Wait, they're twitching. Damn it.

"And whom do you owe this time around?" Purity's light brown eyes sharpened as if I am some salmon trying to reach the Emperor's Pond. She's not really a brown bear though, she's way too lithe and her youthful look betrays the image I have when thinking about the fall's salmon run. Her cheeks may be high as a kite, but they're not the puffy ones you see when everyone's stocking for winter: bear, chipmunk, or whatever. The upper hemisphere of her face is round and does resemble a bear's, but the lower half? Shit's so angular and well-proportioned that my jaw aches.

How is she a bear? "Jackson gave me three free girls, I'd seven though."

Purity had her lips agape. Just a few more and she'll let me on my way. Just a few more...

Of all the fetishes I'd discovered today, pain-receiving has to be the weirdest one. I don't know if it was one of Jackson's girls having their leftover effects, or I really just got a boner for no reason at all. Yep, no reason at all. The slap on my left cheek had nothing to do with it.

Her eyes had darted nearly instantaneously. Fuck. "Is this what you do every time a girl stops being exclusive with you?" Her question had been asked with a blush at first, but then her tone became serious as she looked back up. Oh no.

"Purity, you know Liso was my--"

"Your father isn't at home right now," she cut me off, her voice overwhelming with annoyance. "He's in a meeting with the other House Heads."

"You mean Patriachs." Correcting her will distract me, I need to get away before I act on my urge. That's what brought me to Jackson's and this situation. Fuck urge. "Queen Esjei hasn't been seen for a month."

Purity shook her head. "Oh, but she's there."

"Great."

Most of our conversations have prolonged silences. That's the problem when both of you look about the same age, but one is older and is your second mother. Most of the time it's okay since we don't converse much outside of the usual stern talking-to, but this?

This is some next-level, double-time silence.

Her hands hovered down her midriff and for moment I thought I was seeing things, but then she produced a sack. It looked light. Probably a dozen gold in there. The Lord knows she's either got this from Father or from her other "sacking" activities.

I really don't understand Father and why he keeps her when she's been known to go around. Then again, I'm a product of his former self, or Purity right now. Oh, and I also go around. I wish she sacks me. Scratch that, fuck me sound.

"You know you can always refuse to pay Jackson, right?" she asks, as if I didn't know it. "Nobility isn't beholden to the masses, no matter how glorified one from the masses is."

I nodded, "But where's the fun in that?"

As soon as I said the words, a gust of wind left her mouth, giving my baggy dark red tunic a much-needed ruffling. Why was I wearing my clothes at the brothel and why did I walk all the way up here. The stains are going to be unreal and the maids will be looking for stronger stain-removers. I could always buy new clothes every time I get a stain, but that'd be too frivolous.

She clutched the sack as if it needed to burst, well, as if she regrets plating it out for me. Her porcelain fingers contrasted with the brown sack, just as if one were to look at us, my attire, wait, where are Pil and Pred. They always disappear too fast for my liking. I guess that's what it means to be part of an elite guard.

"Get me something nice after you pay him off, eh?" she asked in a singsong voice, her lips curving upward in a motion too quick to not be considered devious.

She knows I won't get her anything, that's the thing.

I'll come home with nothing, jump into the spring, annoy Sinteya for a screaming, then wait for the ring. The bell will toll, then I'll sleep on the sole of the mansion. Real nobles up the stairs, bastards down but with pension. That's life.

I like it.

----------------------------------------

Walking down to the Market Center is a past time that's too enjoyable for me to pass over.

Actually, it's a routine that cannot be removed unless I get sober and work myself to the point of usefulness. The Lord knows Father's just waiting for Purity to pop his first legitimate heir. He'd never really told me anything aside from a guarantee of small estates, but I figure he's following tradition and wishing that I'd be passed over succession. He and I haven't talked much since he married Purity a decade ago and had Sinteya, but I guess his enabling of my indulgence is pretty much a string to keep things open.

I mean, I'm already a year above the coming of age and without a bride. For bastards there's just two reasons: a waiting game and an end of the line. As the heir presumptive, my non-existent brother is the only obstacle to the reins of House Tempo. Sure, Uncle Troi and Trei can claim the title of Patriarch by virtue of legitimate line, but the tradition has always been oldest direct heir. We aren't in Aimararu lands, we're civilized men that puts practicality above everything. Holding wealth in the concentrated few, that's how the Empire grew, and so it shall be until The Lord has His subjects still kneeling at the pew.

Having pretty much no mother to nurture me on the side of non-male affairs like religion or faith, I'd grown up like Father: ambivalent to His existence. He doesn't really interact with my life much, after all, what's there to forgive aside from my lecherous deeds? I'd killed no one, nor have I stolen. Those two are usually what the rest of the nobility are in the church for. 

As for the poor? They're there to make sure that their manure-stealing procedures will not cause another intraclass war over useless conjectures. 

Damn peasants be rioting when not struggling. I'd escaped a large one due to having sight of Liso Devir, and what the fuck is that girl.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

She looks as if she's come out of a play, so she's definitely nobility. Why is she unattended on this corridor then?

I should probably continue straight to Jackson's, but this girl's nearing Ason's. Nobody goes to Ason's unless they're desperate lechers, and sure we could always remove his dangerous shit, but then the filthy peasants will clamor for our favorite brothels. Nobody ain't got time for that. Filth becoming filthier, we have our standards. We don't screw each others' women for it'll cause blood feuds that everyone will pay for, so it's up to the peasant women to satisfy our urge for pleasure. Stringless and with no complaints, they're perfect.

I trot to the girl. 

She's pretty all right. Wait. She's too pretty. Green eyes and green-brown hair for serene green. Oh no, don't tell me she's from House Vert?

Fuck.

She's met my eyes. Holy shit.

"You!" she shouted at me as if I was a servant. Really though, I don't notice the almost-grating tone that nobility uses against the masses. At Jackson's it becomes the men's tone for crevasse bodices or outright ready flesh. It sounds okay when I'm not alone. That's nurture for you, bastard or not. Well, noble bastard. I doubt a peasant's bastard would feel above his station, but hey, who am I to say? I know nothing outside from decent swordplay and debauchery. 

I looked behind me. Dirt-speckled peasants were weaving through the fabric of the Market Center, fish inside the waves destined for shore. She's bound to be trouble. Big trouble.

"Stop pretending it's not you!" she cried. 

My eyebrows rose. "Me?"

"Yes you!" She was a bit louder, still drowned by the afternoon market calls though.

"What did I do?" I asked. What the fuck does this girl want. I shouldn't have gone close.

She narrowed her eyes and started heading toward me at a pace too fast for my liking. Why the fuck is this girl so angry. If she was wearing a typical muslin, she'd have tripped by now and--oh, I see why she's gone unnoticed for a while now.

I was too entranced by her eyes and hair that I'd forgotten to look at the rest of her face. Bloody. Her appearance denotes a butcher's apprentice or something. She might not be from House Vert after all. Well, maybe a distant relative. Peasants don't really care much for hair color and I don't care for status, I'll have her.

My eyes probably showed my thoughts, never was much part of the game.

"You know the way around this place?" she asked me as if she's never been to the Market Center, and the only way that's true is if you had servants to bring stuff to your manor. The Lord needs to forgive me for my manner, what I said previously didn't matter, for I don't want her and seek no batter.

House Vert's going to kill me if they find out I'd touched one of their girls. That was their law: full obedience to church practices. 

"So no touching female Verts if you're a male," my father had said to me in regards to inter-House laws. Well, it also applied to the peasants, so I guess it's inter-House-class laws? That doesn't sound right.

I bowed my head. "Sorry mistress, Bill knows nothing outside Market Center," I put on my best impression. 

For a moment, her eyes flashed red, conflagration over a verdant plain. "Your accent speaks refined, boy," she spat in a way that exceeded venom.

What the fuck? This girl's at most two years older than me. Don't tell me she's like Purity? Fucking nobility and their absconding from senility. "Sorry, mistress?" 

Acting is a female venture, so it's no surprise that she shook her head. "Cut the crap, boy," she commanded in an even grating tone. "I asked if you know the way around this place, not if you know the way uphill. How daft are you?"

My lips had parted. Most female nobles don't cuss, not unless they like making a ruckus between their toys. Oh boy, I'm fucked. "Sorry?"

I'd wanted to say more, but she'd closed the gap between us and blocked all my airways. Her eyes are penetrating mine as if I was her most valuable treasure, her lips are too soft, my nose can't keep up with this feeling, and is that fucking lamb blood that I'm tasting?

Father need not tell me that my mother came from below. Father had cooked me chicken drenched in lamb blood and bread crumbs when I was young. It's what some peasants eat for The Lord's birthday, a feast of the lowliest of food.

The sound of hooves and carriage wheels entered my ears, they came from behind. Yep, I'm dead. I closed my eyes.

"Verdana Vert!" the most commanding male voice I've ever heard had shouted. Fuck me. "What in The Lord's name are you doing?"

She broke away. "Bill's been busy beating me to pound town, ain't that right, Bill?"

I opened my eyes in shock. "What the fuck?" I couldn't help but mutter it, but they probably heard it.

I heard the owner of the commanding voice sigh. "Really Verdana?" he asked, disappointed. "You pick up butchering and the butcher's uncultured son? It's no matter you speak like them!"

A moment had passed. Save for the constant calls of seagulls, fish mongrels and other merchants, only the perfect dance of the relieving summer wind can be heard. Well, maybe an eternity had passed. No, twice eternity. What's happening? I dare not to turn around.

"Well if this is the life you want, consider your arrangement with Azur reneged!"

Who the fuck is Azur? I didn't get an answer as another eternity passed. Then the carriage and hooves left.

Then a giggle came.

"Oh yes, oh yes!" the girl in front of me had begun jumping. Her eyes shouldn't be that happy. "I'm free!"

I palmed my forehead with my right hand as I stared at the cobbled ground. "From being wealthy..."

She squeezed my left hand with both her hands. I looked up and the happiness in her eyes was more intensified. "No, tyranny!"     

----------------------------------------

Just woke up, gonna expand on this and here's some notes. Also, I hate the tense (errors), but whatever.

Notes: 

Sinteya = Cynthia. I love the name so I changed it, lmao.

Pil and Pred = pull and prod. Don't know why I wanted to make it.

Kenderek, "the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice," and the llama story with black empowerment is based on Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp A Butterfly and song "The Blacker the Berry." The Undis = Andies and that's just correlation of llamas' home. Note that it's up the north, so the Red City is below a large mountain range.

Purity Spatai = spatial purity. I don't know why I named her purity but when I decided that Spatai = White, I thought of purity.

King Lisp = a king with a lisp. Most kings have nicknames of their most noticeable stuff.

Jackson's is basically jacking off, lol.

Liso Devir = Lisa DeVeer from The Red Queen's War. This guy, Vilrohas is kinda like Jalan, but eh. Oh ya, final book in trilogy just got released. I need more set in The Broken Empire still though.

Queen Esjei = Queen SJW, lol. I don't know why I'm making so many references. So I guess this Queen Esjei will be all about female empowerment. Maybe she's the first queen to rule.

Vilrohas is a bastard of the House Tempo's Patriarch. Also, I made Tempo (time) = Black since for me time has always been black, id est, it's always been against me.

Wow, so the second part is finished. I think that's all for this chapter. I think it's alright. Finished the first part in around three hours and this second one also in three hours. Eh.

I don't think there's really any reference in the second part. Oh, I think I forgot to mention the origin of the names.

So Vilrohas = ville rojas. That's French then Spanish. 

Vert = green, from French.

Albastru = blue, from Romanian.

Azur = azul but with r, from Spanish.

So basically Latin themes here.

The Bill name is from hillbilly, lol. I wanted to stereotype. This is supposed to be medieval-like, but eh.

Verdana is a font, typeface, or whatever. It's also from verdant, I guess.

Ason's is supposed to be related to ass, lol.

Troi and Trei should be obvious: Troy and Trey. I'm just using different spellings cuz I ain't original. Not really.

Ya, I think that's it.

Corrected an error at the last sentence, changed from and to in, lol. I want the chapters to be long, but eh.