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The Champion [Sekah & BlueAmbient]

He moved his thumb, and the vibrations increased. Karim sucked in a long, stuttering in-breath. He let it out in a small whimper. The mixture of the pleasant vibrations sinking into his base and balls and the pain from the tightness of his leather pants was doing - something to him.

Something strange. When he realized what he wanted to do, he pressed his lips, embarrassed. His thighs began trembling faster and faster, until they were practically vibrating, like the toy.

He wanted to beg Astra to touch him. He wanted - you know - to be touched. He'd been a perfect virgin before Astra took him only a day or two ago. Asking someone for stimulation was too bold. Anyway, even if his body enjoyed the vibrations, his mind didn't - he felt that rising tenseness and shameful, hot boiling in his stomach of humiliation. He was already quite close to tears, beginning to hiccup a little, on the edge of sobs.
 
Astra watches this all unfold like someone watching an experiment. He's not sure what to make of it, Karim trying to be silent, trembling, on the verge of crying. But it's sending heat to his groin, waking his own erection. In the darkness, lit only by weak moonlight coming in the window, Astra moves the tray of food back to the nightstand, then moves over slightly so he's more on the bed.

Astra leans back on his elbows to watch Karim, blue eyes reflecting what little light there is. After a couple minutes, he increases the vibrations again. He cock is pressing hard at the inside of his leather pants, creating a very obvious bulge. His hips shift in discomfort, and he moves his left hand to open the front of his pants for some relief. He gives no such relief to Karim, still wearing tight riding breeches.
 
Karim saw him watching him in the darkness like a predator, those same shining eyes. He tried to deny what he was feeling, to deny Astra the pleasure of seeing him break down, but it was futile. Astra had taken him as a teenage virgin. He had no callouses, no built-up resistance, to pleasure. Karim's eyes were becoming glassy, far away. He kept trying not to moan, and doing it anyway, softly, almost under his breath. Astra raised the vibrations again, and Karim's hips began twitching, a man's primordial need to thrust when feeling pleasure.

Precum was starting to leak out; it was staining his underwear. His thighs fell open, as if inviting a body between them, his hands helplessly kneading the sheets. He tried to remind himself the leather constriction was good. It meant Astra's watchful eyes weren't on his bare flesh as he suffered this.

He saw Astra untie his pants - the new clothes would probably come by tomorrow, if the clothier hadn't been too pissed. Until then, Astra's pants were as dirty and ragged as when he came in. He saw the shape of his threatening shaft in the silver glow of the moonlight and turned away. A sob bubbled up his throat.

He wanted Astra to be happy. But God, he didn't want to do this for it.
 
Astra's eyes darken with lust as he listens to the sounds Karim is trying, and failing, not to make. His gaze drops, scanning Karim's body as the boy moves by instinct. Seeing Karim turn away makes Astra growl. He sits up, hands sliding along Karim's slender legs. Fingers hook into the riding breeches, pulling the fabric down and off Karim's body, along with any undergarment, leaving him bare from the waist down.



Astra pushes Karim onto his side, stretching out behind him. He's half propped on his left elbow, that hand sliding fingers into Karim's hair to take a firm grip. His right hand grasps Karim's right thigh, lifting it to open his legs. Astra runs his nose along the side of Karim's neck, inhaling his scent; sweat, fear, arousal. It all miles together. Astra rolls his hips, his cock sliding between Karim's ass cheeks but not yet pressing in.
 
It was part relief, part torture when Astra yanked down his riding pants, chaffing rouge marks down Karim's hips - he hadn't even untied them!

Karim crossed his legs automatically, a brilliant blush darkening his cheeks. His hands delved down to cover his pulsing groin, hiding it in a hand.

With Karim's hand still cupping his cock, Karim was shoved and wrestled up onto his side. He didn't resist, cowering, trying to fight the urge to wrap his hand around his begging cock and give it some real stimulation. Astra slid up Karim's taut thigh, bathed in shadows in the moonlight, so it looked inhumanly perfect - all flaws wiped away. He grabbed his hair, the pressure milking new tears from his eyes.

Astra ran his nose down the side of Karim's neck, inhaling, and Karim shuddered, and tried to duck into his shoulders. He shivered in Astra's arms, flinching when Astra's cock nudged into his cleft.

Karim tensed up tight as a board, his nearly-unbroken ass turning small and clenched, the exact opposite of what the boy should have done, had he known anything at all about sex. But he did know some things.

"Can we use the - the condoms - and - some lubricant, Astra. Please." He swallowed heavily, curled against Astra, trembling.
 
Astra growls at the request, his chest vibrating against Karim's backside. He's not happy with Karim for making the request, as it means he'd have to walk away from the boy. His hips push against his young lord again, and for a moment, it seems like he's going to ignore him. But then he pulls away, roughly shoving Karim over onto his stomach and standing from the bed. As he does, his thumb moves across the ring on his finger, turning up the cock ring's vibrations again. It's as though he's using the pleasure to punish Karim.

Astra leaves the room, and leaves Karim writhing on the bed. When he returns from the sitting room, there's no condoms in his hand, but the bottle of lube isn't the only thing he holds. He'd also grabbed the leather wrist cuffs, and the short clip to connect them. His hands catch Karim's wrists, pulling them behind his back. The cuffs are strapped tight, clipped together to keep Karim from pulling his arms to the front.

Astra kneels on the bed above Karim. His hands roughly pull the boy onto his knees, but without his hands to support him, Karim's chest stays down on the mattress. Cold lube splashes against the boy's ass, and there's a wet sound as Astra smears it along his cock. The bottle is then tossed to the side, somewhere on the bed. Rough hands grab Karim's hips; Astra's out of patience. He groans as he breaches the boy's body, pushing hard until his cock is seated to the root, and Karim's blower abdomen has that slight bulge from his sheer size.
 
Karim waited, tensed, and hardly dared hope Astra would listen to him. He shuddered, hearing Astra growl in his ear. Astra pushed into him again, rubbing against his plush ass, and then finally pulled away. He flopped Karim over onto his stomach, and before the alarm could settle, the vibrations grew stronger. Karim squirmed as Astra was gone. He couldn't help himself - he humped into the sheets, whimpering pitifully, his whole body rouged with shame, noticeable even in the low light.

Karim whimpers and tries unsuccessfully to stop humping as Astra returns. The young lord didn't fight, allowing Astra to strap and secure Karim's wrists.

Astra maneuvered Karim into place. Karim's cock was throbbing, spurting a messy thread of pre-cum on the bed.

Astra thrust deep into Karim, an inexorable shove deep into Karim's guts, but this time, Karim didn't rip. Stretched out a bit finally from all the use Astra had put him to, and with proper lube for once, Karim stretched, instead of tore. Relief sunk into Karim's bones that the pain wasn't sharp, overwhelming, or stabbing.

"Thank you, Astra," Karim told him softly. He really liked lube.

There was something else, too. Something hard to understand. A growing warmth in Karim's belly when Astra was deep inside. It confused the innocent boy. It felt - it felt -

- he rocked back over Astra's cock, moaning - trying to understand what he was moaning about.
 
Astra ignores Karim's quiet gratitude, leaning into the boy as Karim pushes back against him. That's a first, as is hearing a moan instead of a sob. That sound makes Astra's cock throb, more than Karim's sobs did. Yes, admittedly, it was satisfying to see Karim shaking, sobbing, crying, as Astra had his way. But his moans are like pure music, sending shivers down Astra's spine and heat straight to his cock.

Astra bucks hard, fingers digging into Karim's hips, His strokes are short, pushing deep, but each short movement is forceful. His grip on the boy's hips keep Karim from moving forward, so he stays in the same spot as he takes the rough pounding. Above him, Karim would clearly hear the occasional groans and grunts Astra is letting out.
 
Astra speared Karim's plush, tight little ass, their flesh clapping from the force Astra used. It was elusive, for Karim. Sometimes the thrust felt like the ones he'd started to learn to tolerate, the pain and sharpness.

Sometimes -

- sometimes they were something else altogether. A soft milking of his erection until tears started to spill down his cheeks, confused by the sensations, knowing this was still rape, despite the pleasure as bitter as the pain. He'd let out low, stuttering moans, or whimpered out things like, "Mn!" that sounded soft and supplicating in the night air.

That pleasure was close to overflowing, from the vibrations that felt like they were under his flesh and the strange way those short, harsh thrusts were - doing that - that milking thing.

It was terrifying to say it, but Karim's shaking thighs might have told the truth anyway. "I'm going to cum soon, Astra," he nearly whispered to him. A needy whimper left him. "i'm sc-scared."

He'd cum from masturbation - not that much, really, someone told him it was unhealthy so it'd only been a few times - and it was obvious to say, he'd never cum from sex. And this wasn't sex, either, it was rape, something entirely different.

He buried his face in the covers and wept into them, humiliation and confusion warring in his breast, not wanting to see himself cum for his rapist.
 
Astra growls when Karim speaks. He doesn't want to hear words, only whatever sweet sounds the boy might make, whether they be sobs, whimpers, or moans. He changes the angle of his thrusts, leaning down over the boy and driving his hips forward harder. Leaned over as he is, his hot breath washes over Karim's cheek. "Then do so, I don't care."

Astra is taking full advantage of this so-called deal; taking his anger and hatred out on his young master instead of the other servants and guards. He has no moral holdings against doing so. Thus, his hips buck harder, push deeper, as he leans into each thrust. That slight change of angle from him leaning down over Karim, however, is just enough for every thrust to rub firmly against a certain little bundle of nerves. Astra doesn't know it, but that little bundle of nerves would be sending electric jolts of pleasure through the young lord.
 
A soft whimper poured out of Karim's pretty pink lips as Astra changed the angle inside him.

Then do so, I don't care, Astra said, his breath hot on Karim's cheek, sending tingles down his spine. He might not care, but Karim did.

Astra thrust deep inside him, filling him up, his tight ass straining to take it, his legs shaking violently like a scared child's, rustling against the sheets.

Karim's lips parted in a strained gasp. It felt -

Astra's thick cock forced so deep and rough in him, bulging in his tummy, which made him sore, hurt.

But the thing was, it felt -

- good. When he ground downward like that, the shaft pulsing like was enraged, Karim's eyes opened wide, his lips parted in a long, moist moan.

A few more of those deep, grinding thrusts, Astra surrounding him, all over him, their sweaty skin sliding over each other like silk over iron . . .

Suddenly Karim started wailing plaintively, his whole body shaking. He spasmed and squirmed under Astra, milking his fat cock with his tight sheath.

His small, poked-up cock bucked into the sheets, the wild movements masturbating Astra. Every muscle in Karim's body was rigid as stone, but smooth, like it had been tempered by water.

Pumps of the boy's cum made a sticky mess of the sheets and his stomach.

His wails trailed off as he slumped bonelessly to the sheets, his whole body soaked with with a pleasant, oversensitive buzz. He finally, truly loosened his muscles, becoming a less tight but more comfortable fuck-sleeve.

His lips parted, gasping pitifully, dazed by the most powerful cum he'd ever had or could ever imagine.
 
When Karim hits his climax and his muscles clench, Astra groans in his ear. That tightening of his body during orgasm drives Astra to his own peak. A handful of short, hard thrusts later, Astra leans into Karim, growling. His hips buck hard, grinding deep, as his hot seed spills into Karim's body. Astra groans, pushing into Karim as though trying to push deeper. Karim's body may have relaxed, but Astra is still enjoying the wet heat. When Karim collapses to the bed, Astra follows, letting his weight keep him buried within the boy's body.

Astra stays laying on top of Karim for several minutes,, thumb sliding across the ring to turn off the vibrations that had been going in the cockring, occasionally shifting his hips to push into the boy. His arms are wrapped beneath Karim, face resting against the side of the boy's neck. Whether this is a peaceful end, or simply a very clear dominance and possessive display, it's hard to say. What is obvious is that Astra is content to stay buried within Karim. Eventually, though, he does pull away. As he does, he drags his hands down the boy's back, nails scraping his skin. As he stands, Astra stares down at the young lord, a satisfied smirk on his face.
 
They lay like that for a while. Karim was dazed. He couldn't tell you if it had been hours or minutes. His breath was deep and strained, a little, from Astra's bigger body holding him down. For a second he wanted to hate Astra, but he couldn't. The first night had been - you know - true rape, but in a way he'd consented to everything since then.

His mind was adrift - he felt adrift. He kinda wanted to kiss Astra, because he felt maybe someone should kiss a person after this.

It took a while, but eventually he pulled out, Karim whined softly into the sheets, which were plastered to his skin from the sweat and cum. As he stood up, he scratched Karim, like a tomcat marking its mate. Karim whimpered softly. The scrapes stood bold and scarlet on Karim's skin.

He was grateful Astra turned off the ring, but didn't Astra say he didn't want to talk? It was all a blur, Karim couldn't remember.

In the darkness, lit by the light of the moon and torchlight far outside on the grounds for the guards, Karim's eyes shined like a small harmless prey animal's, like a rabbit still out in the night. Liquid and sweet and yearning for something. Even Karim didn't know for what.

"I - I wanted to say - "

Then he censored himself, look down, showing long lashes a delicate shadow in the dark. He bit his lip.

"I'm sorry, you don't want me to talk, right, Astra?"
 
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Astra is satsified enough to release Karim's wrists from the leather cuffs, dropping them to the floor. When Karim speaks, Astra stares with narrowed eyes. After a moment, he utters a soft grunt. "I never said that. Speak all you want." Astra wipes himself clean with a corner of the bedsheet, then adjusts his pants, tucking his cock away, and sits at the foot of the bed, leaning against the bedpost.

Astra picks at the food left on the tray, which somehow didn't end up kicked off the bed during their coupling. Astra's blue eyes stare at Karim, waiting for him to speak. Astra is always the most calm and receptive to Karim after sex, when he's floating in the post-high of pleasure. "What do you want?"
 
Karim flinched when Astra reached to him, but he smiled at him, a little watery, like the sun coming out after a rainy day, when Astra freed his hands. He chaffed his wrists and sat up normally, crossing his legs. He fumbled in a side drawer for a handkerchief to wipe the cum from his body and the sheets.

What do you want? Astra asked.

Karim thought about it for a moment. "You mean in general? Y'know, what I'd like to do with my life? I'd like to become a chef, and open a restaurant. But that kind of work . . . " He trailed off. "My family would never approve of it. It would never be seen as fitting for a man of my station. Everyone sees cooking as slave's work. So I don't really know. Leyla says I have time to figure it out, though. I'm only sixteen."

"Or do you mean what I want for you? Um, I'm really, really hoping I can persuade you that you can find purpose, and that there's good things in the world, there's experiences you haven't had you might like, so - so you'll change your mind about killing yourself, Astra."

Karim lay back on the bed as he said, that, reaching between his legs with the soaked handkerchief to mop up Astra's cum, swiping his pink ring, cute and puffy from Astra's abuse.
 
Astra stares at Karim as he speaks. It's strange, how the boy is suddenly so much more comfortable with him now, despite everything he's done. As Karim chatters on, Astra sits in silence, watching him. A chef? Astra can see that, given how much time the young lord spends in the kitchens. Astra has no interest in Karim's future plans, though. But he freezes when Karim starts talking about him.

Astra narrows his eyes, clenching his jaw. After a moment, he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know what I want. Nothing you do will change that." Astra stands, stepping closer to Karim. His fingers grasp the boy's hair, pulling his head back so Karim looks up at him. "Fucking you is fun, but I will break you eventually. And then, you'll give me what I want." Astra roughly shoves Karim down, then turns and leaves the room.
 
The hand in his lush brown hair dragged him back, arching his elegant throat, poking tears up in his sweet chestnut eyes.

"Yes, Astra," he repeated, voice strained. There was no point in arguing with him. When he left, Karim gulped, used a couple more handkerchiefs to clean himself off, curled up in another part of the massive bed, and fell asleep.

He woke in the early morning, crept downstairs and took a bath, a few servants there as well. He was uncharacteristically shy and silent, wondering if he had any bruises he'd forgotten to heal that they could see. After his quick ablutions, and someone fetching his manservant who dressed him in the changing area of the bath, not an unknown, Karim disappeared into the kitchen to get some real stress relief.

They made quiches a-plenty of many kinds, most containing some kind of vegetable, pain au chocolate, blueberry & cherry turnovers, and scones of various kinds with clotted cream - huevos rancheros for the main course, along with sliced offerings of fresh fruits, many of them unusual, ones most slaves had never eaten before, like passionfruit and dragonfruit, lychee and durian. There was also juices of more than one kind of fruit, and delicate teas and coffees.

When it was all out and plated and everyone was wandering the room, Karim steeled himself to go find Astra and make sure he got some breakfast.
 
Astra had once again spent the night curled up on the window seat, head against the window. Yet another night of not sleeping until the very early morning hours. He'd only manage to drift off for roughly three hours when he hears the bedroom door click open. Instantly, he's on his feet, staring at the door from where he stands beside the window seat. Given that he's always so tense, the tiny bit of downward movement, that smallest fraction of relaxation upon seeing it's only Karim, might be surprising. Day three here, and Astra still hasn't adjusted to not being in a cell, but knowing it's not a stranger is helpful. However, that doesn't stop a scowl from twisting his features.

"What do you want?" Astra folds his arms defensively over his chest, leaning his back against the window's frame. His blond hair is disheveled, and there's a small red mark on his shoulder where it had been pressed to the window while he'd slept. Without a prompt answer, Astra strides across the room and pushes Karim against the wall, hand in the middle of his chest. He's about to make some snide comment, but the smells drifting from the kitchens and dining hall reach his nose through the open door. Closing his mouth, Astra sniffs the air, then drops his hand and steps back. It's starting to appear that food is becoming a pretty good option to placate the man. Sometimes.
 
Astra looks like he hasn't slept well, smudges around his face that suggest exhaustion as he advances fast on Karim, who cowers against the wall, waiting for the cruelty, the blow, momentarily too scared to speak. When Astra let him go, Karim stumbled over his words, stuttering out, "It's breakfast - I mean, I made breakfast, with the kitchen staff, and if you'd like some, Astra, i-it's downstairs. O-or I could bring it up, if you'd like."

Karim wanted to broach the subject of where and how he slept. He seemed to be sleeping on the windowsill. There was no chance that was comfortable! But how was he to persuade Astra to at least try a comfortable bed?

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, right next to Karim's back. Karim jumped, and called, "Come in!"

One of the footman opened the door and said, after standing taken aback for a moment at the disarray of the room, "We have Astra's clothes, Master Karim."

"Astra, where would you like them?" Karim asked. "Maybe we can go to breakfast while they put them away," he suggested gently.
 
Astra's tension returns when someone knocks on the door, and his arms cross over his chest again. His blue eyes narrow, almost daring the footman to say anything about the mess. When asked where he wants them, Astra snorts. "I don't care. Throw them on the floor." With another glaring look at the footman, Astra moves into the hallway, bumping the shorter man with his shoulder just enough to set him off balance. In the hallway, Astra leans against the wall to wait for Karim. New clothing. Things he would probably never wear correctly. At least Karim hadn't asked for shoes for him yesterday, at least, not that Astra could remember. He'd much rather be barefoot, knowing what he's walking on without having to look down at the ground.

When Karim comes out of the bedroom, Astra straightens from the wall. "Do not lecture me. I do not care for the feelings of your servants. How they view me is of no interest to me." It's clear Astra is at least aware that bumping the footman was rude, but doesn't matter to him. He's a stranger in the house, a known danger, and in Astra's mind, the servants would do best to stay out of his way. Astra turns and heads for the kitchen, dropping his arms to his sides as he walks. He is listening to whatever Karim is saying, but has yet to decide if he wants to answer.
 
Karim told the footman to put the clothes against the wall and leave them in the sacks they were delivered in. He apologized for Astra's behavior and thanked him.

Astra told him not to lecture him, and for part of the way down to the main dining room where breakfast was being served he didn't say anything. Finally, though, he spoke up.

"Astra, nobody here is your enemy. That footman, Aaron, was someone I bought from a low-end brothel, where he saw ten to twenty clients a day and was used to the point of disease, brutal wounds, excruciating pain, and exhaustion. It took a long time for him to recover, and to trust me or anyone here too. You see the people around you as your enemy, but only people in the Master caste have the - the power to change or stop the kind of things that happened to you. So - so I guess you could see me as your enemy, only I don't hate you and I don't feel like one. Do you really hate them all for eating the food I and everyone cook and living better than most slaves do, and even getting their papers and becoming truly, legally free? Shouldn't all slaves live this way? Isn't it not bad they live this way, isn't it bad so many slaves do not? Don't you think?" he wheedled.

"Speaking of that, you'll start getting a stipend every week at the end of the week. You can use it freely, or save it up. I can also tell you exactly how much you need to save to buy your freedom. And we also have to talk about what days you want off. It's usually two days a week, can be more. You can move those days around on specific weeks if there's something you want to do or some event you want to see. It's all very flexible. What would you like?"
 
Astra's jaw had been clenching tighter and tighter as he listened to Karim ramble on. Yes, Astra knows he is not the only one to have faced terrible hardship. But everyone handles those hardships differently, and Astra has obviously turned to violence, cutting people off from himself, keeping his distance. So hearing Karim talk about recovery and enemies, makes Astra more and more angry. In his mind, all this anger and hatred for the humanoid races that put him in that arena, that brought about his years of suffering, isn't going to just go away because some little fennec fox lord rescued him from the one thing he wants.

When Karim stops talking, Astra stops dead and turns to face him. There's barely contained rage burning in his blue eyes, and a deep scowl on his face. "Why should I care about them? They've done nothing for me, they are strangers. They fear me. And keep your money, I have no need of it. Money will not buy me what I want. My only purpose in life is death." That last sentence is growled, and Astra promptly pushes past Karim into the dining hall when he's finished.

The room goes dead silent at his arrival. The immediate tension is so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Astra ignores the wary stares as he grabs a plate and starts adding small amounts of various foods. He takes the plate to a corner of the room, balancing it on one hand as he stands with his back leaned against the wall. Feeling eyes still on him, he finally looks up, glaring, and growls. "What the fuck do you lot want?"
 
The slaves, all but the children of whom had grown up being barked at just like that, were all suddenly looking at their plates, at the walls, pulling their children in close. A half-grown girl who was sitting by herself, no mother and father, piped up. "You talk just like me ol' Master." Her accent was unplaceable - she must be from a recently conquered nation, judging by her age. "People are scared of you for 'at."

"Laura don't..." a kindly woman sitting next to her gasped, trying to grab her wrist. She pulled it away.

"Don't hurt her, please, Astra, she's just a child, don't hurt her," Karim begged him, terror rushing through his system.

"And, speaking of your hallway convo, which we all heard - what kind of daft logic was that? We've all been cooking your food, cleaning your plates, readying the carriage so you can apparently treat the Master appallingly in public, keeping the bath clean after you use it . . . all kindsa things. And Master's even been helping, most of your food and many of your plates have been cooked and scrubbed personally by him. Even he's not above working for you. You're the fellow who expects us all to help you in ways you deem fit to call help somehow when yeh shove people, hit people, snarl at people - if someone treated you the way you treat us, yeh'd kill him. I believe that."

Karim had given up on pleading at this point. He had rapidly placed himself almost on top of the child, panicked, unsure what he could do, more than prepared to cover her with his body and take any blows Astra meant for her on his own flesh.

"Don't hurt her," Karim whispered to Astra. "Astra, please..."

He was painfully aware that Astra was a match for the guards, and that if he took it in his head to hurt this child, no one here could stop him.
 
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Astra stares at the child berating him, but rather than anger, his expression is surprisingly blank. He says nothing until she's finished speaking, then approaches her, and Karim practically wrapped around her. He ignores Karim entirely, staring down at.. Laura? Is that what the woman had called her? Such a small child, but the only one to not look at him like a pestilence, other than Karim. His large hand reaches for her head, but not rapidly. Fingers ruffle her hair, like an older brother.

"You have courage to speak to me like that, child." That's all Astra says before he simply.. Walks away. But it's as though some sort of tiny connection has been made. Laura is the first servant to not treat him like the monster even he knows he is. Yes, granted, Karim doesn't treat him like a monster, but that's different. Karim wants to fix Astra, to save him from himself. This child stands to gain nothing, yet still berates Astra like he himself is the child. There's a strange sort of respect for that.

In silence, with everyone staring, Astra leaves the dining hall with his plate of food. He retreats to his bedroom, to settle on the window bench while he eats, alone.
 
Laura flinched slightly when his hand reached out, though mostly she stared up at him belligerently. Even the guards hardly dared to breathe, everyone terrified he was about to hurt the child, and that the slightest act of aggression would only unleash the violence.

But he didn't.

He ruffled her short-cropped brown hair. He spoke to her kindly.

He left peacefully, plate of victuals and all.

"Wasnae expectin' that," Laura gasped.

Karim gave her a big hug, feeling that her heart had been pounding. "You were very brave, but be careful next time, Laura." He blew out a sigh. "Eat your food, sweetheart. Lessons start in an hour, you know."

She and all the children here went to a small schoolhouse he'd had built on the edge of the grounds, a warm and inviting place, and had several teachers, all of whom with experience, sanguine personalities and pleasant dispositions, and several of which were educated former slaves themselves, he'd hired educate them. Slaves were almost never so much as taught to read and write, but it was another way Karim deviated from the norm.

Karim made up a plate for himself and ate it, savoring the food, letting Astra have time to simmer down. He owed him an apology.

He knocked on the door to his room, where he thought he'd be. "It's me," he called in. "Can I come in?"
 
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