His heart was racing and his stomach twisted unpleasantly. It was all he could do to not stop and throw up. What had that been just now? He had gone from a shadow on the wall not wanting to become involved to being thrown headlong into political unrest. Why? Just because he was an Omega? He doubted it was just because he was a slave. There was no denying the potent smell of Alpha from the courtiers, nobles and even the Prince’s entourage. But it was Prince Aspen’s scent that caught his attention, stuck in his nose and made his belly feel warm and strange. 

He stumbled down the servants' hallways to the massive kitchen where the heat of the stoves and fires blasted against his face, thankfully erasing the Prince’s scent entirely. It gave him the moment to pull himself together, to allow his heart to stop racing. The head Chef was busy over a massive steaming cauldron over the hearth fire, her hair tied back and sweat across her brow. Her massive arms were decorated with tattoos and disappeared beneath her rolled up sleeves. Maybe, long ago, she would have been a beautiful woman but the grizzly scar across her cheek and nose made her seem far more fearsome. Around her, dressed in white aprons and hats, other omega slaves did the smaller tasks; cutting vegetables, baking bread and there was even one washing fresh produce from the gardens. The kitchens were always a hub of commotion and Phoenix felt relief at the familiarity and the distraction. 

However, Eva, the head Chef, turned her dark eyes on Phoenix the moment he appeared and pointed the large spoon she had been using to stir at him. “Phoenix, what did I tell ya about bein’ in ‘ere? You’ll get yourself hurt! We’ve got a massive dinner tonight and I’m already behind! Get moving! The dining hall won’t clean itself!” 

Right. Cleaning. That was his life’s work and nothing else. A slap to the face reminder of what had happened in the Great Hall. He nodded, rushing past the cooks and to a door leading off. It was here he was able to grab new supplies; a bucket, soap and a scrub brush. A shiver ran through him and he remembered his soaked tunic. It wasn’t the first time he had been bullied by Alphas. And they weren’t wrong. As a slave, he was good for nothing more than cleaning and breeding. He supposed it’s only been a matter of fate that he hadn’t had to do the second part yet. 

Bucket in hand, he closed the closet door and began the maze of slave corridors before opening a well used wooden door and slipping into the cathedral-like dining hall. Long tables sat parallel to each other, each able to seat a hundred or more. Every few feet along the table’s top, a richly decorated urn of the best of Spring’s flower gardens. Each setting had pristine white plates, polished silverware and carved flutes that would be overflowing with Spring’s greatest of wines. Behind the tables and across from Phoenix, an entire wall was made of glass, revealing a breathtaking view of those flower gardens. In some ways, Phoenix was grateful for his position as a cleaner. He got to see places within the massive Spring Palace without the corrupting scent of Alphas. He wasn’t privy to seeing the dining hall filled with people and to his surprise, he found the peace of these empty rooms to be far more satisfying. A thin layer of dust covered every inch of the room and Phoenix didn’t hesitate any longer, getting to work in making sure everything shone. 

But, even as he cleaned, trying his best to focus on the task at hand, he couldn’t stop the image of Prince Aspen from popping into his head. His scent, the way those eyes seemed to look in his very soul, even if it had only been for a few seconds. Every thought of him made his face flush hot and his stomach to grow warm. It only pushed him to scrub harder, to put more effort into his work to keep those troublesome thoughts at bay. 

He finished the massive floor in a little under an hour and, by the time he was wiping down the table and tableware, the assistant cooks began filing in, pushing carts laden with food while others carried various other dishes. It was a welcome distraction, the smell of the food reminding him that he hadn’t eaten yet that day and, by the time the waiters began to enter the dining hall, he had finished his cleaning and disappeared before any of the nobles and courtiers could see him. After the fiasco earlier that day in the Great Hall, he wanted nothing more than to remain invisible. 

Taking the slave’s corridors again, he returned to the kitchen, only to find his next job waiting for him. Eva was stern, a woman of no nonsense but she even gave Phoenix a look of pity at the overwhelming amount of dishes waiting for him to clean. But he gave his best smile to Eva and began to fill the stone basin with water. There was no point in wishing for a better life, in hating what was in store for you. This was the life he had been born into, the life he would have until the day he died. Complaining or wishing for something better would only make his life harder. 

He had heard whispers among the slaves that only the Spring Court treated their Omegas this way. In other courts, Omegas were practically worshiped but King Midas had always sought to gain a fortune from the fertile Omegas he could sell to the shady underground. When the missing Prince of Autumn disappeared, it was thought that King Midas had done it but there had only been whispers, never proof. It was even suggested that the King had his own harem but no one had ever set eyes on them.

He dipped his hand into the water and took several careful breaths before wisps of steam began to rise off of the top of the bucket. Behind him, Eva watched him but said nothing. Out of everyone in the palace, there were only a small few who knew of his… uniqueness. And Eva was one of them. His ability to manipulate fire suggested that he was certainly not from the Spring court originally. And by using his ability to heat the water meant he didn’t have to wait for a pot of water to boil over a fire before he could start the dishes and he wasn’t in the kitchens till after midnight. With everyone from the kitchens tending to the dinner in the Dining Hall, he was free from scrutiny. 

“Ya been careful to keep tha’ under control?” Eva rumbled from her place beside the stove, ruefully giving Phoenix a sidelong look. 

He nodded as he began on the pots and bowls used in the food preparation. “I don’t use it for anything else.” he said softly.

Behind him, Eva was silent, almost as if she was sizing him up on his level of truth before she gave a chuff and turned back to her pot over the stove. “An’ those eyes of yer’s? Ya keeping yer face down?” She asked again, this time, with a little less edge. 

Phoenix looked at her from over his shoulder, sending her what he hoped was his best confident smile, eyes crinkling at the sides. “Of course!” He lied, remembering the look of surprise on the Winter Prince’s face when he looked up at him. The warmth of that memory of the Prince’s smell, of the way his body seemed to almost reach for him in a desiring sort of way. He turned his face back to his work before Eva could see the heat in his cheeks. “I’ve been drilled for as long as I can remember about keeping my head down. I know what happens to an Omega like me.” he murmured. 

Being a slave in a palace meant a lot of things that were thought to be done in secret, were in fact, not. There were so many places a slave could peep through a crack or hole, in the hidden slave corridors. So many things were seen and heard that were only whispered from slave to slave. It was common knowledge among all the slaves that if a nobleman desired one of them, they had no say in the matter. They were Omegas; born to be bred and not allowed to have thoughts or actions of their own. They were owned by the King himself and he gave his noblemen permission to use them at their leisure. There even was a female Alpha among the nobles who was fond of bringing her two Omega slaves with her to every court appearance. Two slaves that had once worked in laundry. 

“Powerful people could use ya fer horrible things.” Eva said cryptically, voice low. When Phoenix didn’t turn or respond, Eva sighed. “Finish yer dishes and head ta bed, Nix. No doubt they’ll make ya clean the whole Dining Hall again.” There was a sound of disgust in her voice but Phoenix knew she was right. Of all the slaves in the palace, it seemed as though he was the only one tasked with cleaning. King Midas’s laughing face crossed his mind and he frowned, knowing full well the King’s hatred for him. He didn’t know why the King hated him so but he suspected it had something to do with his Omega father. Had he been a part of his secret Harem? King Midas made a point every time he saw him, to mention his hatred for him and how he wished his Omega father had survived instead of him. They were deep cutting wounds that no longer cut but the scars were still there. He knew, deep down, that it wasn’t his fault but he couldn’t help but feel that maybe the King was right. Maybe everyone would have been better off had he died instead of his Omega father. 

Eventually, Eva put out the flame in the stone stove and yawned a good night to Phoenix before disappearing through the main kitchen doors. Phoenix didn’t finish the dishes for another two hours before he was able to finally dry his hands and head into the same direction Eva had. Sleep tugged at his eyes and his arms and legs felt heavy. He couldn’t wait to slip into his cot, not even caring if he smelled like cleaner and soap. Dawn wasn’t far off and he wanted to at least get a couple hours of sleep. 

However, the way to the slave sleeping quarters happened to pass the state room and normally at this time of  night, the room was dark and quiet but when he passed the crack that allowed sight into the room from a far wall, light flooded through the crack and he could hear voices. He knew he shouldn’t have,  he should just go straight to bed but something made him stop and his heart picked up when he heard the familiar voice of Prince Aspen. Being careful not to make a noise, Phoenix pressed his ear to the crack.

“-don’t have the time to be sitting around making merry, King Midas.” The winter prince growled. “You promised one of your daughters to the Winter Court in exchange for the gems we have been carting into your palace.” A shifting of booted feet and he heard King Midas’s laugh, followed immediately by the tinkling of one of the King’s favorite Carafes. Phoenix frowned. King Midas was never without his alcohol. 

“You were promised one of my offspring, Princeling. I never said it was going to be one of my daughters.”

A flabbergasted laugh from a voice Phoenix didn’t recognize. “And pray tell, Your Majesty, where are these other “children” of yours? You only have three royal children.”

There was a pause before the sound of a glass being set down on a wooden surface. “I never said he was a royal child I recognize.” King Midas’s voice oozed with humored swagger. 

Silence. Phoenix found himself holding his breath, eyes widening. So… it was true then? King Midas has a harem of Omegas? At the very least, a consort. But… who was this child he didn’t recognize as a royal heir? Was it one of the slaves? Was it one of the courtiers in the crowds? And he said he…

“So you expect me to just take one of your brats from one of your Omega whores?” Phoenix almost shivered from the icyness of Prince Aspen’s voice. 

It was no secret that the Winter Queen was a tyrannical leader. She was cruel and heartless and cared little for her own people. It seemed that her son wasn’t far off. There was no warmth in his voice, no evidence that the surprise had shown on his face earlier when he had looked at his eyes. A true embodiment of the element he harnessed. 

But King Midas continued as if the Prince’s attitude didn’t bother him at all. Maybe it didn’t. “Yes, in fact, I do. I’ve had enough of him and I want him out of my kingdom. What you do with him once he leaves my borders, is your problem.”

“We are not your garbage dis-!”

The unknown voice was cut short and silence fell once more. 

“A deal is a deal, Prince Aspen. It's not my fault you accepted such a deal without first getting the details. A child of mine for your gems.” A snicker. “And you call yourself fae. Even a child would have required far more details.”

A hissed noise from the unknown male followed soon afterwards by Prince Aspen. “I expect them tomorrow. If I stay any longer in this garden of twisted lies, I feel I may vomit.” His voice was flat, filled with a burning hatred that was more than enough to melt the iciness from only a few moments ago. King Midas laughed and the sound of boots moving off and a door and Phoenix remembered where he was. He quickly pulled himself from the crack in the wall and hurried off to bed. Caught eavesdropping on a royal’s conversation would certainly end only in death.