Chapter 4: A Slave's First Duties
I woke up, stretched, and winced as my leg throbbed in protest. Stupid hunters. They probably damaged my leg beyond repair. I pushed myself out of bed and walked over to the door. Might as well check out the house.
Outside my room was the same hall as yesterday, of course. I walked down it back to the main hall and looked around. There were a few other doors to go through, and a staircase leading to the second floor. Paintings I hadn't noticed yesterday were hanging on the wall, showing who I assumed were previous owners or something. In any case, most of them looked like Shadow. Lancelot... whatever. I had no sooner touched the railing of the staircase when I heard a familiar voice again.
"Slave, I have something I wish for thee to attend to."
I closed my eyes and took a breath before turning around. "What is it, Master?"
His frown let me know that he had picked up my tone and wasn't happy about it. "Cleaning. Everything thee need is on the closet at the side of the staircase." Lancelot motioned and lead me to the closet he was talking about. "For now, I want thee to dust the library."
I looked at the items in the closet and pulled out what I assumed was the duster. This wasn't what I expected, though it was relieving to have something so simple. Lancelot again motioned for me to follow, this time leading me to the library. On the way he named off each room so I would know where everything was. When the door to the library opened, I stared. It was bigger than I had expected it to be. Considering the size of the house, I guess I shouldn't be so surprised.
"Once you're finished here, I'll have something else for thee to do."
Lancelot turned and left. I went into the library and looked around. It didn't look like it needed much dusting. With a shrug, I walked over to the nearest bookcase and started. If I took my time, I could think over what's going on.
There was the obvious slave thing that really bothered me. Owning others was something that just shouldn't be done. Ever. It took away the freedom people should have, and to my knowledge they were never treated much like people to begin with. I count myself lucky that Lancelot didn't seem like that bad of a guy. His appearance wasn't the only thing that was like Shadow. I had been expecting much worse treatment. Slaves were always treated terribly by the people who owned them. According to history, anyway. I sighed, blowing some of the dust away from my face.
"I'll have to find some way back eventually."
"Slaves may not return to where they came from." I spun around to see Lancelot standing in front of the door.
"La- Master! What are you doing here?" The moment it left my mouth, I wanted to smack myself. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind.
"I thought I'd come to see how thee were doing. I'm aware becoming a slave isn't what anyone ever has in mind,"
"Of course not," I interrupted Lancelot without thinking. "Who would want to trade their life and freedom to please someone else? If you know it's wrong-"
"In every aspect of life, people strive to show dominance over one another. This is the way things are, and have always been. Slaves have always served their masters as long as this kingdom has stood." Lancelot was silent for a few moments, staring at me. "Thou art the first I've ever owned."
"Oh. Then, the others..."
"Servants in my employ." Lancelot gave a small smile. "Believe me, thee will appreciate my ownership soon enough. Thou hast no idea what thou would be doing this moment if any other had bought thee."
"I have an idea." I shuddered and got back to my dusting. "So...how long has it been since you've read any of these?"
"A few months. I haven't had much recent use for them."
Lancelot came up beside me and ran his finger along the row of books. After pausing on one, he pulled it out and extended it to me. With an inward sigh, I dusted his book. Once I had lowered the duster, he walked over to the desk and sat in the seat behind it. Having him there while I went about dusting was... a little nerve-wracking, I had to admit. Cleaning never had been my strong point. By the looks of things, I was going to have to get used to it.
