Content warning: This novel contains strong non-con themes and themes of abuse, along with the misgendering of a transgender character, mentions of pregnancy and depictions of gender dysphoria.

William shifted against the grey stone beneath him. The guard brought a hand to his forehead, he shut his eyes. “I assumed this would come up eventually,” he admitted with a sigh. “However, this is by far the first time someone has been so quick to question my origins.”

“S-Sorry…” Forrest abandoned his bowl of food that he laid by his left hip, atop the fountain’s edge. He raised his hands before his chest in a fit of panic, and shame. His shoulders tensed. “Y-You don’t have to answer, if it isn’t—”

“I am like you,” the guard confirmed, rather quickly, to Forrest’s surprise. As William nodded, a smile etched itself into the corners of his lips—yet, the expression seemed threaded with pain, and likely not as genuine, as the guard intended for it to be.

“What…” Forrest paused. He was not sure how to phrase his next question. There was clearly some history between William and Valerius, if the King was letting William remain within his castle’s walls as a Halfling.

The guard’s gaze met Forrest’s again. “You want to know what happened?” William’s grin grew into a kind one, as if to let Forrest know, that it was all right to ask; Forrest would not trespass on any unpleasant memories, nor emotions alike. “Well,” William started again, as his shoulders deflated alongside a huff he let out. “No other place would take me in,” the guard told Forrest. “One of Valerius’s great grandfathers—the Old King—he was the one who decided, that I was to stand by the throne.”

William cocked his head toward the castle that towered over the land like the figure of an indomitable giant. “I have served his descendants for centuries. The current King is only respecting wishes born from his lineage, by allowing me to keep my position, and my life.” A bitter spark flashed through William’s eyes as he said these final words. It was not difficult for Forrest to decipher the unspoken message residing within the guard’s body language: If it weren’t for my history, I would be dead.

Forrest took a deep breath. That’s right, he thought, afterward. It would make sense that William would know the Old King. He is older, after all; at least, older than Forrest.

The Halfling’s shoulders hung low as he stared down to his feet. He cringed. Forrest could only think, in this moment, that William deserved better. “What a generous man he is, your King…” Forrest muttered under his breath, as he crossed his arms then stared upward, in hopes of finding William’s gaze again.

To Forrest’s surprise and growing horror, it was not William who replied to his statement injected with the venom of sarcasm, but the King himself.

Valerius put a hand around Forrest’s shoulder and gave it one, hard squeeze. “That, I am,” he told Forrest. “A generous King.” His voice was a warning, a threat disguised as mere banter. And Forrest was no fool. He was aware that he’d clearly crossed a line.

And although the mistake did not cost him this time, the Halfling made a mental note to be more careful in the future—wandering about, like this, in the village plaza had given him the illusion of freedom, but Forrest could not afford to forget he was still prisoner to the claws of a murderous tyrant.

As the sun continued to rise across the lands, Forrest followed the King and his guard past crowds, stalls filled with colourful fabrics and fruit. Valerius had taken the precaution of disguising himself as one of the men from his guard, though this drew quite the fair amount of attention to Forrest himself, since it appeared like he was a young noble being protected, instead of a Halfling held hostage.

The villagers surrounding them did not realise their ruler had blessed them with his presence—Forrest assumed this was because Valerius also rarely bothered to make trips into town, which resulted in less knowing his face. And, if you did know it—Forrest gulped—that likely meant bad news.

After what felt like one of the longest walks Forrest had ever experienced, the three of them finally stopped before a shop. The boutique was hidden for the most part, in a faraway alleyway, right where the general markets ended.

“Well?” The King raised a brow. He pushed Forrest forward with a small, shove to the Halfling’s back. “What are you waiting for?” he asked him. “Don’t be shy—step in.”