Mag-log inHe is my master, I am his slave, his son my lover. Set in a fictional historical world, Grand Duke of Wynthorpe, Lucian Blackwell unexpectedly purchases Sarang, a lunari slave, to serve as a companion for his son, Nathaniel. Overtime, Lucian and Nathaniel develop deep, conflicting emotions for him. While Nathaniel desires to free him, Lucian's secret attachment complicates the relationships between the three. Caught in an intense emotional triangle, Sarang is torn between his loyalty to Lucian and his romance with Nathaniel. As boundaries between servitude and freedom blur, Sarang must navigate a society where love, power, and desire clash.
view more“I need a slave.” Lord Lucian Blackwell declared, gazing at the eloquent garden through the window of his manor.
“A slave?” Trevor asked as he dropped his feet from the table in disbelief.
It was no secret the number of the things Lucian Blackwell detested–slavery being chief among them. Slaves were nothing but property: deprived of name, status, wealth, respect, and dignity. To Lucian, slaves were depreciating liabilities–they aged and got boring quickly. He believed in the principle, ‘Every man has a price’ which extended to labour. Until now.
Lucian turned away from the window and took a seat, facing his old friend. “I need a slave. Young, healthy, and smart. I don’t care the cost if it meets my requirements.”
Trevor leaned forward, “Why? You have never weened such notion… What changed?”
Lucian’s eyes flickered toward the painted portrait of his deceased wife cradling an infant swaddled in a red blanket. “For Nathaniel’s education. A slave his age to learn, rival, befriend, and serve him will be necessary.”
“You can hire a young servant or adopt a child.”
“Nathaniel is my sole heir. A servant has his years of service before he retires without lingering attachments.” Lucian’s tone brooked no argument. “Are you helping me or not?”
Trevor sighed and folded his arms. He understood Lucian to be stubborn and firm in his decision even on simple matters. Suggesting anything sensitive, like remarriage, would be equally futile.
“There is a slave caravan that comes to Linfield every six months. Their slaves are expensive, but high quality of different ages and genders. I’ve purchased two slaves from the caravan, and they are remarkable.” Trevor crossed his feet with a debauchery grin.
“When do they arrive?”
“Tonight. You are in luck my friend; I hear they have something special tonight. If it is as wonderful as rumoured, my harem is willing to welcome another.”
“Very well.”
The slave market sat on the outskirts of Linfield where the caravan camped. Lucian’s sharp gaze took in the crowd, many of whom haggled for slaves and contraband with factions that catered to their pockets. Some slaves, brazenly parading naked without handlers, latched onto potential buyers and led them to secluded corners—a thinly veiled hint that this was as much a brothel as it was a marketplace.
Lucian hadn’t expected the auction house to be a decent build that could cater for a house given its grotesque and vulgar surrounding.
“This way, my friend.” Trevor said and opened the wooden door.
They were greeted by a beautiful young woman draped in purple sheer silk. Her curly raven hair framed delicate features, and her gentle brown eyes shrouded any self-thought. She bowed. “Welcome masters.”
“We are here for the auction. We want the best seat… it is this gentleman’s first time.” Trevor said and tilted her chin to meet his eyes. “Have you missed me, my dear?”
“If it will please you, I have not.” She replied coldly, pulling her chin from his grasp.
Trevor laughed. Lucian trailing behind, scowled at his friend’s shameless flirtation. Her heart must have been made of iron and stone to resist a man as silver-tongued as Trevor.
They sat in a private room above the other guests with a clear view of the stage where each item would be presented. Lucian spotted a few faces from the ton who chattered amongst themselves, unaware of his presence. It was disappointing discreet purchase were impossible in auctions, people might misconceive his intentions with a slave and play politics with him.
“This gathering could fool the ignorant for a play.” Lucian commented.
“Of course. Owning slaves is a mark of one’s status. In their eyes, you whose power is second to the crown, owning none is… strange. Relax friend and enjoy the auction. You might find one you desire in your bed tonight.” Trevor praised with a carefree grin.
Lucian whipped his head and snorted. “Frivolous.”
The auctioneer commenced the auction with a brief remark. The first slave was ushered to the stage by two slavers with her head bowed and a chain around her neck. She stood still on a wooden platform, her arms limp at her sides for the guest to admire her fair, soft, and beautiful body. She was perhaps sixteen, if not a year older.
“An omega from the Northern Isles with rare red hair. Young and skilled in the arts of entertainment but untouched here for her master’s use.” The auctioneer touched her shaved vagina. “Suitable for labour, though such a task would mar her beauty.” His voice was impassive. “Two hundred gold coins.”
“Three hundred.”
“Three hundred and thirty.”
“Five hundred.”
The bids rose. Lucian eyed Trevor who made no bid.
“Are you not interested?” Lucian asked and Trevor shook his head.
“Too young. I prefer them older and knowledgeable about their desires instead of catering their innocence. My beloved mate is my sole exception.”
“You spoil them.”
“Which is why I am blessed with eight children. Nine by summer.”
“Sold for one thousand and sixty-seven gold coins.” The auctioneer said and the slavers ushered her away.
The auction continued, presenting slaves and selling to the highest bidder. Trevor nudged Lucian, encouraging him to make a bid, but Lucian remained indifferent, uninterested in any merchandise paraded. He wanted a closer evaluation of the slaves, they were non-refundable.
The next slave astonished the guests to silence before whispers ensued which excited the slavers. The guests’ reaction to their most precious item exceeded their expectations. Lucian observed keenly, repositioning himself upright.
The child whose feet were bound with light chain, shivered fearfully under the greedy, lustful, and amused scrutiny of the crowd. This slave was unique, a gem in the rough even among nobles.
“A lunari from a small province in Hanmin.” The auctioneer declared; his voice filled with pride.
Lunaris shared one general characteristics. They lacked colour except in their eyes. Male, female, alpha, beta, and omega, they were beautiful and rare to birth. They were considered blessings from the gods upon mankind to protect and assist mortals. Some believed lunaris to be born with unique gifts like healing, strength, and visions, a few worshiped them, and many coveted them. Although records proved enough lunaris were born with gifts, Lucian believed it to be the church’s propaganda… Nonsense.
The child had pale skin and lips without blemish or scars, silver hair, a button nose with slanted bright blue eyes that reflected innocence and the ocean
Lucian’s breath hitched as the child’s frightened eyes met his. Something stirred within him—an unfamiliar, protective instinct.
“The bid starts at five thousand gold.”
“Seven thousand!”
“Thirteen thousand!”
“Fifteen thousand!”
The guests clamoured their bids, agitating the slavers.. They never anticipated this frenzy over a lunari. A riot could happen if they were not careful.
Lucian and the child maintained unwavering eye contact as the bid reached its peak. All he saw were the child’s tear-filled eyes, trembling lips, and pitiful stance.
The impulse was overwhelming, he caved.
“A shame he’s a child, I would have bought–”
“Three hundred thousand gold coins!” Lucian shouted.
The room went deathly silent that a pin drop could be heard.
Their curious eyes searched for the madman who would spend an outrageous amount on a slave without political benefit. They were stunned by their revelation.
The Grand Duke of Wynthorpe, Lucian Blackwell.
No one dared to challenge his bid.
“T-three h-hundred thousand gold coins… sold!”
The auction ended.
Trevor chuckled in disbelief. Lucian Blackwell now owned someone.
“May I join you?”Lucian turned, knowing the voice belonged to the lithe omega dressed in chestnut-brown nightwear.Sarang closed the balcony door behind him and moved forward. He shivered slightly as the night breeze touched the exposed part of his skin, leaving them flushed a soft pink.“It’s rather late to drink alone.”Lucian twirled his glass and smirked. “It’s brandy.”“I’ll manage.”Sarang accepted the half-filled glass and brought it to his lips. The smell was unpleasant, but no one drank alcohol for the smell or taste.He cringed at the awful taste of his first sip and attempted to chug it, but Lucian tapped the bottom of his cup.“Sip, or you’ll be drunk with a terrible hangover tomorrow. You’re not a very modest drunk.” Lucian warned.Sarang hid behind his cup, his ears turning red.Sarang had a low tolerance for alcohol. The third glass of anything strong was more than enough make him outlandishly ecce
There was no sign of Nathaniel in his room, the library, the stables, or even the garden. Nathan hadn’t mentioned going anywhere earlier, so he was certainly somewhere on the estate. Sarang sighed in defeat and decided to check one last place: the arena.He spotted Nathan’s blonde hair, as he sat on one of the concrete benches, crouched over as he aggressively scribbled into a book.Sarang smiled ear to ear and crept towards him gently, but he jerked to a stop when Nathan suddenly ripped the pages from the book one by one before flinging the notebook aside.“Nathan?” Sarang called, a little surprised by his outburst but unafraid. It wasn’t out of character to throw solitary tantrums when he didn’t want to bother anyone.Nathan whipped his head around, flustered when he saw Sarang standing behind him. His face turned from pink to red when he realised how much paper he’d littered.“This is embarrassing.”Sarang chortled and marched to the firs
The days following Lucian’s birthday returned to normal, and Lysandra continued her chess lessons with Lucian. Occasionally, Sarang joined them for a game, creating grounds for a genuine friendship between them. Their conversations gradually shifted from a shared interest in Nathaniel to topics of culture, politics, literature, fashion, and music.Lysandra prided herself on the skills in which she was superior to Sarang: dancing, music, horse riding, embroidery, and poetry. Sarang could play the piano and cook, but that was about the extent of his omega charm. However, Sarang was highly intelligent, more intelligent and inquisitive than her brother, Luke, which was an assurance his offsprings would never be dim-witted.Spending more time with Sarang made her understand why Nathaniel loved him. He was loveable, kind, and all the things she wasn’t. Despite being a slave from a faraway, unknown country, he had been raised with love and radiated the same warmth toward othe
“What have you found?” Nathaniel was direct with Ashton as soon as he entered his office.Ashton sat upright and placed his empty glass on the table.“A few words of pleasantries is the best way to start a conversation, but you would not know, given your lack of a maternal figure.”“I did not come here to be criticised by you. You had both, and somehow, I turned out better, which shows my father did more than enough.”Ashton scowled. “I dislike you.”“The feeling is mutual.”Ashton placed his hand beneath the cushion pillow and slapped the ownership papers onto the table. He crossed his legs and leaned back.“A man born a slave dies a slave. Very simple system. However, there are three ways a slave can be granted freedom. One, the slave’s debts are cleared. Second, the master grants them their freedom. And third—”“The slave is granted amnesty from a higher power or the Church.” Nathaniel replied.Ashford nodded. “Howeve
Nathaniel stared at the doors of Lucian’s study and heaved. He knocked then entered.His father sat at his desk, eyes closed, coloured papers and books strewn around him, and a half-full bottle of whiskey rested by his side. A glass chessboard and books sat on a desk by a window with two chairs fac
Season’s flourished, days progressed to weeks, weeks to months, a year, two, three until eighteen years had passed. All the children raised in the Blackwell villa aged with beauty and grace and young passion blossomed as well.In the beauty of spring at the Blackwell’s home, servants scurried the h
As night crept, the streets bustled with people and lanterns casting warm light over the cold evening. Sarang picked up a green half mask from the wagon and turned to Lucian.“What do you think, Master?” Sarang asked.Lucian shook his head. “It doesn’t compliment your crown.”“How about this?”“It’
Ten days later, Lucian and Sarang set off for New Borough at dawn. The journey was long and exhausting, but Sarang admired the view away from their hometown. The first he had ever gone without Nathan tagging along.Sarang’s eyes softened. He wondered what Nathan was doing. Were the negotiations goi
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