Little One.

Gabriel forced himself to stare at the bear pelts decorating the bed beneath him, compelling himself to drift away from the over-sized king behind him, drunkenly attempting to mount him. Gabriel strained to focus on the various shades of the bear fur, as the man behind him finally found his opening and wasted no time forcing his way in.

The man in question was Ansell Kentesius II, King of Morpsis. Gabriel was given to him when he was a child to serve as a steward, when his father fell behind on debts to the crown, and taken by the king as a bed-mate soon after. Gabriel clenched his teeth at the memory of how he came to be there, whoring for the King. The memory was an immensely painful one, but less painful than kneeling on all fours, allowing the bear of the man behind him do what he was doing.

Gabriel closed his eyes, and allowed himself to sink into his agonizing past. Gabriel’s father worked in the treasury position, managing the crown’s expenses. The man had had a horrible gambling addiction, every bit of gold he acquired through an honest day’s work for the King, went into the hands of some punk from the pub at the end of a drunken game of Spools.

Gabriel recalled his mother and father coming to blows one evening when his father had gone out to get pork and salt, and had returned home empty handed and drunk. His father had begun to scrape off the top of the crown’s purse, covering his tracks, hoping no one would be the wiser. That illusion was shattered, however, when his employer noticed an alarming decrease in the crown’s purse, stretching over a long span of time. The treasurer had conducted a thorough search into each and every expense, and was able to round up the unaccounted disappearances in money. Gabriel’s father was questioned meticulously, and he crumbled. He confessed to his crime, and Gabriel and his mother were forced to watch their breadwinner stand in open court, before the King and Queen, and confess to his crimes.

Throughout the entire trial, Gabriel had noticed the King’s attention grew less and less focused on his father, and more on himself. Gabriel was accustomed to being stared at, the people in his village had always marveled at how feminine he was. Gabriel was the smallest of the boys his age, barely cracking 5 feet and 6 inches. He had his mother’s features, a heart shaped face, pouty lips, large, round eyes that were framed on top by two rows of golden lashes. Golden brown curls danced around his head at the slightest push from the wind, his milky skin was hairless, and try as he might Gabriel was never able to grow an acceptable beard like his father.