I woke up groggy and dimly aware that something was not right. I had a killer headache. On top of that my face hurt. I was seated in a very uncomfortable position, but when I tried to move, realized that I was chained. My eyes shot open in panic. Last time I woke up unable to move it didn't go well. But that's not what greeted me when I opened my eyes. there was bright light. Natural light, from a small window with bars. My eyes watered and I blinked them a few times trying to adjust to the light. I was in a cell. Four walls, three of them solid, one made of metal bars placed closely together. Yep definitely a cell. I'd venture so far as to say prison. But I hadn't done anything wrong. My mind flashed to Mrs. Porter the night before. Thief she had called me. Maybe that's why I'm here. But I'd never stolen anything in my life. I wasn't that desperate.

"Daddy you're alive!" a shrill cry of happiness was all the warning I got before Sareh was in my lap, bouncing gleefully. She hugged me. "I thought you were dead. You've been asleep so long like a billion days! Mr. Porter said you were just sleeping, but I've never seen you sleep so long, and usually you're face isn't purple and you don't make those little pained gasps when you breathe or anything like that, but it doesn't matter because you're alive. Now Mr. Porter can still be my friend, I told him if he was lying to me and you were dead that he couldn't be my friend anymore, but he didn't lie so it's okay and," she paused for breath, I was convinced she was going to pass out before that happened. I didn't know what to make of all she had said. Wasn't even sure if I was glad she was here. She was with me, but we were in prison. My child was in prison.

"Daddy, are you crying?" I hadn't even realized it, but I was. She reached up and wiped my tears away, an innocent gesture that nearly broke my heart. She didn't belong here. "It's okay. I won't be friends with Mr. Porter if you don't want me to."

"No, Sareh, you can be his friend it's okay," I tried my best to smile, but I'm sure it didn't look too reassuring. I winced. Couldn't even smile without my face being in pain.

Sareh seemed satisfied by that though," Oh good because he's coming back here tonight. I told him he could come, not like it would have mattered if I didn't he's been here every night waiting for you to wake up at least that's what I think he's doing he's been here every night and every night you didn't wake up he's left looking really, really sad. I think he likes you. Do you like him, I like him, can he be a second Daddy?" I almost choked at that question. "I think he wants to be a second Daddy. I asked him if he did and he said that it was up to you. I like him, he's nice. he said I can call him James, but that's really weird that would be like calling you by your first name...I don't even know what that is..." she seemed deep in thought, probably trying to figure out what my name was.

I started laughing. She was my light in the darkest of times. "Sareh, you're an angel," I said fondly. She just smiled a big toothy grin and hopped off my lap. I could see in one of the corners some dolls. She went to them and started playing with them. No doubt Mr. Porter's doing. I'd have to remember to thank him for those, and for keeping Sareh company. He really was a good man.

But if he was such a good man why were we even in here? A part of me, the more rational part, knew that he really had nothing to do with us being here, but I needed to place the blame on someone and he was an easy target.

The day passed slowly. I had nothing to do but sit where I was chained and wait for something to happen. I watched Sareh play with the dolls a lot and just daydreamed. I wondered how the master was doing, hoping that this little fiasco, or whatever it was, hadn't caused him too much of a headache.

Somehow I doubted that I'd be going back there, no matter the outcome of this whole ordeal, neither Sareh nor I would be going back to that house. If we were lucky we'd be sold together, but I seriously doubted that luck would be on my side. I hadn't had the best of it so far in life. I can't think of another my age who has had so much strife, but I didn't know many people. Probably part of the whole servant thing.

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew I was being shaken awake. "Daddy, Mr. Porter's here to see you."

I blinked a couple times clearing the sleep away from my eyes. And there he was, seated right in front of me in a plain wooden chair.

James Porter sat there. With that annoying smile playing at his lips. he looked way too composed for the current location and situation. He was dressed simply. No coat or tie, just a nice loose fitting cotton shirt and a pair of trousers that looked to be tight. his legs were crossed and he was bouncing his raised foot up and down, probably a nervous habit.

"Hello, Asho," he greeted happily. His expressions did a one eighty and suddenly he looked somber, "I'm sorry." I had planned to rip into him when he got here tonight. Wanted to blame everything on him, but those two little words spoken so calmly, so sincerely, combined with those eyes. They looked at me with such a mix of emotions, hoping for forgiveness of wrongs that he hadn't even committed, truth for the words he had spoken and overwhelming sorrow. If I could move I would have embraced him. As it were, I hoped the look I gave him said enough.

He looked at me in surprise, like he knew what I had just thought. Then he smacked himself in the head. "How silly of me," he laughed in a rather aloof manner, "here I am apologizing, and you can scarcely move." He pulled a pick from his pocket and began unfastening my hands. "I'm sorry to say when I leave here, you'll have to go back in those, but I can offer you some temporary relief from the discomfort." He worked quickly and soon I was squeezing my hands and rotating my wrists trying to gain normal movement in the extremities. The shackles were tight!

I sat there calmly just staring straight at Mr. Porter as he continued to beam at me. Slowly the smile fell from his face. He looked worn out. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, Mr. Porter," I gave a little half smile.

"Please call me James, and alright another question," he said easily.

Why not? I nodded my consent.

"Do you even know why you're here?"

If that wasn't a loaded question, I didn't know what was. I wasn't sure how to answer it. "I'm in prison, right?" He nodded.

"How long have I been here? Sareh said something like a billion days, but I'm pretty sure that's not accurate," I tried to joke.

He smiled at my feeble attempt at levity, but then again, when wasn't the man smiling? "This is the fifth night."

"Shit," I hissed running a hand through my hair.

"Yeah, but do you know why you're here?" repeated the man reaching out to put a comforting hand upon my knee. He held up a piece of jewelry, maybe an earring. I wasn't sure exactly what it was but it was ugly. It shined and was mostly diamond, or all diamond. There were two different colors clear sparkly and snot green sparkly. I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion. Was this supposed to mean something to me?

"No, enlighten me, James. Why am I here?" I said snottily. Boy it was weird saying his name.

"See this," he motioned to the grossness in his hand, "this is what got you here. Apparently you stole this from Mrs. Porter, God knows why you'd want it."

I felt outrage at his words, "I've never stolen anything in my life," crossing my arms I pouted like a petulant child.

James sighed, "I had a feeling you'd say that Asho. The worst part is I know you're telling the truth. It was that blasted driver, but mother, well I'm sure you know this but she's been after you for a long time. Doesn't like 'mongrels' mixing with the bluebloods. Which doesn't even make sense, you're a prince for Christ's sake."

What? Was this guy on something. I'm a servant. and I said as much.

He looked at me sadly, pity in his gaze. "You mean no one ever told you."

"Told me what, exactly?"

"Your mother was a princess in Persia, you are her first born son, she was the first wife. By their rights that made you first in line for the throne. You have royalty in your blood," he explained. I almost wished he hadn't. I was fine ignorant. Now I felt lost like my whole life had been a lie. Hell, it had been a lie. I covered my face with my hands, breathing in deeply, trying to calm myself down.

Arms encircled me, making me feel warm and safe. His head resting on my hair.

"Why?" I all but sobbed.

"Shh," he cooed. "She wanted you to know. Was going to tell you herself when you came of age but..." He trailed off there. He knew as well as I did why that never happened. She died.

There was something else I needed to know. "What's my sentence? What's the punishment for my crime?" I asked hoarsely.

He squeezed me tighter. Great, now I'm nervous. "Oh, Asho, I'm so sorry."

My throat clenched, "How bad is it James?"

"Death," he breathed.