Chapter 1

Keep Your Shirt On

"Blaine, how do you think Dad is doing?" Joel asked his younger brother as he pulled a bundle of grapes from the vine.

"I don't know. I hope he's alright," Blaine responded, adjusting the strap of the heavy grape basket on his shoulder. "I mean, he got enough money for us to settle his debt at least. So if everything went according to plan, he should be working somewhere now – supporting himself, hopefully."

Joel took a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt. Letting out a sigh, he continued, "I hope he doesn't have to work as hard as we do. You know he's getting too old to be doing labor like this."

Blaine nodded in agreement while he continued plucking grapes. "I hope he doesn't have to be outside as much as we are. His allergies would kill him." He brought a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes against the blazing sun as he looked up toward some grapes located in a particularly high spot on the vine.

"Yeah, hopefully he found someplace he can just work with cows in a barn like he always has," Joel said, wiping his face again on his cotton shirt.

Blaine smirked. "Your shirt is soaked, Joel. Why don't you just take it off? I'm telling you, if you tie it around your head like I do, it keeps you way cooler and it keeps the sweat out of your eyes."

Joel snorted a laugh. He looked at his brother as he plucked grapes. The younger boy looked perfectly at ease, but admittedly pretty goofy with his cotton work shirt tied around his head amongst his long dark curls. Joel smiled when he saw their mother's golden pendent shimmer in the sun against Blaine's suntanned chest. He was glad Blaine had been able to keep it. Even thought they had found themselves in the awful situation of being forced into slavery because of their father's debt, Blaine had somehow managed to hold onto their mother's most valuable possession. Joel had always admired Blaine. He admired his determination, his compassion, and, at times, his hard-headedness. But most of all, Joel admired Blaine's unfailingly good attitude. He could find humor and happiness in the bleakest of situations. Sometimes Joel thought that if he didn't have Blaine to keep him looking at the bright side of things, he might completely lose it.

Joel was glad that he hadn't had to be separated from his little brother and that they still got to live and work together on Count Lamore's vineyard. It certainly wasn't the worst place they could be. Lamore's vineyard was one of the most successful in all of Daltonia, so their conditions weren't terrible. Sure, Lamore wasn't the kindest owner, but he was fair and provided for all of his slaves.

"Fine, Blaine, I'll humor you. I'll give it a try." The tall, lean older brother set his gathering basket on the ground and reached to remove his soaking shirt when the brothers were suddenly distracted by the sound of approaching hooves on the pathway next to the winding rows of grapevines.

They turned their matching curly heads toward the approaching noise and their matching square jaws dropped when they saw its source. Coming up the pathway was a line of four regal looking riders, dressed from head to toe in the royal colors of red and black. The regalia covering the four horses' haunches displayed the crest of the Royal Palace. This crest was rarely seen outside of the kingdom's capitol city of Lima, so the brothers were immediately intrigued as to why a caravan of actual Royal Palace guards was passing through a vineyard in rural Daltonia, which was the kingdom's poorest region and which was located the furthest of all the regions from Lima.

As the caravan passed the brothers, the guards did not even try to hide their scrutinizing stares. All four men's eyes raked up and down the brothers, looking as though they were appraising their appearance.

Blaine suddenly felt very uncomfortable standing there with his bare chest exposed to their invasive eyes. He saw them staring at him, the big one in front actually licking his lips as he gazed at Blaine's abdomen. The young slave crossed his arms in front of him. His hand immediately moved to stroke the small golden pendant that hung from his neck. He left his arms covering himself until the line had passed and the guards turned their heads forward once again.

The brothers stood in silence a moment longer, Blaine still rubbing their mother's pendant lightly in his fingers.

"What do you think that's about?" Blaine finally said to break the silence.

Joel shook his head. "I don't know, but on second thought, I think I'll keep my shirt on."

"How can I help you gentlemen?" Count Lamore asked, sitting back into the high backed chair in the front room of his modest house.

The head guard, Karofsky, replied from a seat across from the count, "Well, sir, as you may have heard, Prince Kurt's eighteenth birthday is coming up. It's been the tradition in the royal family for centuries that when a Prince turns eighteen, he is given a virgin to act as his personal slave."

The count nodded his understanding.

"So, we're here to enquire about the possibility of purchasing one of your slaves to serve this purpose."

The count raised his eyebrows. "Well, this is a surprise indeed. How do you know you'd like one of my slaves?"

"Prince Kurt has expressed his preference for young men of Daltonian descent," Karofsky said matter-of-factly.

"I see."

"Yes, so you see, we have been sent to Daltonia by King Burt in search of a suitable slave. And on our way down the road adjacent to your vineyard, we spotted a couple of slaves picking grapes that we thought might be fitting."

"Which ones? I have ten male slaves."

"Two males, both with dark curly hair…" Karofsky trailed off, not really knowing how else to describe them.

"That describes about every male in Daltonia," the count replied impatiently.

"They were relatively young. One looked slightly older than the other. They were both very attractive," Karofsky added, a hint of pink entering his cheeks. "Oh, and the younger one was wearing a golden pendant around his neck."

"Ah! You mean the dairy farm brothers. I purchased them from their bankrupt father not two months ago. Poor fool spent his life savings trying to aid his sick wife. She died anyway and he found himself so far in debt that he had no choice but to sell the family farm. It wasn't enough to cover his debts, so the law forced him to sell his sons – the only other assets he had.

"They are both in excellent physical condition and are good workers, so I actually paid quite a bit for them. If you want one, I'll need the price to cover what I paid, plus the cost of a new slave to replace him, plus some sort profit for myself." The count leaned forward with a devilish grin on his face. He loved to talk about money.

"Sir, we are prepared to offer you 800,000 oras for one of the boys."

The count's eyes widened. He had only paid 100,000 for the pair of brothers. He didn't want to show his surprise, though, because he didn't want the guard to lower his offer. "I suppose that's reasonable," he replied as calmly as possible.

"That is, provided that the one we buy is a virgin," Karofsky clarified.

The count paused. He was really not aware of the brothers' sexual history. "I can only tell you what I know," he started. "The older one is twenty-one years old and he was engaged to be married at the time I bought him. His fiancée is pregnant, so it's safe to say that he's not a virgin. Also, I'm not even legally allowed to sell him since he's going to have a child. According to the law, he'll have to be set free once the child is born so he can find a paying job."

"Twenty-one is a bit old for Prince Kurt anyway," Karofsky said.

"As for the younger one, I think it is more than likely that he is still a virgin. The brothers are from a very rural part of Daltonia and there aren't many young people in the vicinity for him to have fraternized with. During his time here, I haven't heard of him interacting much with anyone other than his brother."

"I see. And how old is the younger one?"

"He's seventeen."

Karofsky nodded in approval. "And you said he's in good physical standing?"

"Excellent. Top form. He's strong too. You should see the boy bail hay."

"That's good to hear, Count Lamore. I think we've found what we're looking for – if you're willing to part with him."

"For 800,000 oras, he's absolutely yours, sir." The two men shook hands firmly.