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

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THE END