Hi Friends!

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This chapter is kinda filler - you know, pushing the plot along...

Enjoy!

Tobias gently dunked a strip of white cloth into the water basin he had perched on the rickety table next to the bed. He wrung it out before ever so carefully he ghosting it across the angry red welts and the oozing tears that littered the slave's abused back. By the time he pulled the rag back it was tinted red and needed another dip into the cool water before he could apply it to the next cut.

The prince sucked in a breath of air through his teeth as he tried to scrub away some dried blood on one particularly nasty wound. The lesion was long and deep, stretching from Reed's right shoulder down to his mid-back. It clearly needed to be tended to by one of the court physicians but Charles refused to bring one in, noting that the scar was well deserved and would remind the slave to do as he was told.

A soft moan of pain pulled Tobias out of his thoughts. He looked up toward the head of the bed and watched as his friend started to groggily blink his eyes.

Tobias scooted his body forward and dropped the rag into the water. He then laid his hand on the slave's exposed cheek before brushing his thumb along the boy's jawbone. "Shhhh," he whispered.

Another groan preceded a muffled, "D-Derek…it hurts."

The prince pulled his hand back from the young man's face in surprise.

"Derek, please…"

"Shhh, there's no Derek here," he hushed the boy gently. "It's just me, Tobias."

His words must have gotten through to the slave for the boy's brown eyes cracked open finally. "Tobias?"

"Yeah, Reed. It's me."

Spencer let out a whine of pain as he slammed his eyes shut, "It hurts…burns."

"I know…I know it hurts. Here, let me help," he suggested as he reached back into the basin and pulled out a few more pieces of cloth. He then spread out the linens across the boy's torn skin in hopes that the water would ease the burning for a few minutes. "There…how does that feel?"

"B-better," Reed stuttered, relishing in the cool touch of the cloth. "Thank you."

Tobias only gave his friend a sad smile in return.

"W-what time is it?" Spencer asked, trying to take his mind off of the pain.

The prince sat back on his heels on the hard stone floor. "It's late evening."

"I slept all day?"

Tobias shrugged, "I wouldn't call it sleeping. Uh-my uncle said that you passed out sometime around your fifteenth hit. You've been unconscious ever since."

"My wrists hurt…"

"I'm guessing that's because they were the only thing holding up your body after you blacked out. I-uh-I found you dangling from the hook on the bed post after your punishment was over. I couldn't let you hang there like that so I got you down and brought you in here," the prince explained.

Spencer's eyes left his friend's face and took in the room around him. He hadn't noticed until now that he wasn't in the king's bedchamber; rather, he was in a tiny room that had one door and two silted windows located up high on the wall. The chamber was so small that it could only accommodate the cot that the young man was currently resting on and a shoddy table that was close to collapsing.

"Where are we?"

"This was originally supposed to be your bedroom…that is…before my father decided to just have you sleep in his chambers," Tobias said, his face slightly flushing in embarrassment.

"Oh..."

"Yes…well…I thought this would be the best place for you to recover. And maybe he'll be so preoccupied with his guest tonight that you can sleep in here and not have to worry about upsetting your wounds before they have time to start healing."

"His guest…," Spencer repeated in an effort to refocus his mind on what had occurred earlier in the day. "Do you mean Lord Rossi?"

Tobias nodded.

"He-he was telling the truth? Your father's soldiers corroborated his story?" the youth asked earnestly as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. Unfortunately, the pain radiating from his wounds was too much to endure. He arms almost instantly buckled underneath him, sending him back down onto the thin mattress.

"Stop! What are you doing? You've got to stay still," Tobias scolded his headstrong friend. "You are in no shape to even try to sit up tonight…you'll be lucky if you can even attempt it in the morning."

Spencer closed his eyes in defeat as a few whimpers of pain escaped his throat. "Please…is Lord Rossi still here?"

"Yes. The soldiers he brought with him all vouched that Lord Rossi was telling the truth. Why? What's so important about him?" Tobias implored.

"Please," Spencer panted through the agony assaulting him, "…please, I need to see him. Y-you have to help me."

"What?"

"Please, can you find a way for me to see him?"

"Why?" Tobias said warily.

"I-I just need to talk to him…I-I've got to ask him something," the slave stammered.

"I-I don't know. I-I don't think my father would approve," the prince said nervously, picking at his fingers in shame.

Spencer's sorrowful pools locked on Tobias. He tried to pour as much emotion as he could into his next word, "Please, Tobias. You're the only one that can help me."

"Why? Why is it so important that you speak to him?"

The young man could tell that his friend was about to break, so he said the one thing that he was sure would push the prince over the edge. "It's about my telescope."

Charles was chomping ravenously on the hind leg of suckling pig that was sitting on a silver platter in the center of the table. Oodles of grease dripped down his fingers and trailed down his forearm, ending in a pool of goo underneath his elbow. "Mmmh…Lord Rossi…do be a good fellow and pass me one of those apple tarts," the king said with his mouth full.

The Italian suppressed a grimace of disgust and handed the monarch his requested fare. "Your cooks are quite talented, Your Grace."

"Mmmh, that they are," he agreed, swallowing down his mouthful of meat with a swig of wine. "Did you try the meat pie?"

"Ah…no, Your Highness, by the time I noticed them I had already overindulged on that juicy pig there. But perhaps another time," Rossi said, patting his belly.

"You are missing out, old man. Tell me you at least have some room for dessert," Charles said as he forwent a fork and used his fingers to dig the tart out of its tin.

Rossi lifted his goblet full of red wine up high and said, "I think I'll let what I have in me settle for a while and go back for some later."

"Suit yourself," the king stated as he devoured his own sweet treat.

The apple pastry completely disappeared down the man's gullet in record time. When he was finished he lifted up his hands and snapped his fingers. Two servants hustled over to the table at the sound. One of them started to wipe off the grease and crumbs from the king's hands and fingers while the other poured more red wine from a flagon into his glass.

"Leave the drink and get out," he ordered with a wave of his hand. "I'll ring for you if I need anything."

After the two had silently bowed out of the room, Charles turned to his guest and declared, "Well I never thought I would see the day that you and I would sit down and have dinner together."

"Stranger things have happened, Your Grace."

"Yes, yes…but usually not to me," Charles grunted. "So, old man…you're king really wants to join forces?"

Rossi's eyes twinkled as he readied himself for what he believed would be a formidable battle of words. "That he does, Your Majesty."

The Georgian king let out a loud chuckle before he downed over half of his glass of wine. "I don't believe it."

"But your own men just attested to my honesty," the older man protested.

"I know. I know…but I just don't believe it. Why, after I ordered his death, killed his mother, ransacked his castle, and razed his whole country would that young twerp want to work with me?" he asked. "It doesn't make sense."

Rossi, who had been prepared for this very question, quickly supplied an answer. "I'll tell you why…he started listening to his elders."

"Who? You?"

"As a matter of fact…yes."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Charles rejoined with a sneer.

"Of course," David said nonchalantly. "You should feel much better knowing that someone older and wiser is directing his decisions. After you…ah…stormed the castle and made such a statement by murdering the queen mother and trying to off me, I knew you were a force to be reckoned with. While you may not have been successful in all of your endeavors, you did make quite an impression. After I had healed and saw the devastation that you had wrought throughout the land I convinced the king that we needed you. You, who had brought the great country of Quantico to its knees. You, the man that only needs to crook his finger in order to instill fear and awe into his foes."

Charles, preening under the other man's praise of his dastardly deeds, swallowed the bait. "And to what ends do you think you need me?"

"Well, to take out the rest of our enemies of course…yours and ours. And right now both of our countries are vulnerable to attack due to the loss of troops we sustained from fighting each other," Rossi stated straightforwardly.

"Hmmm…but it won't take me long to rebuild my army and my lands are already well defended. So really, while Derek may need me to help him protect his country, why do I need him?" Charles asked shrewdly.

"Excellent question, Your Grace. And let me start with the fact that it's not so much Derek that needs you but me. Because you see, I now have that naïve young king so wrapped around my fingers that he cannot see the strings attached to them. He is my puppet. The boy thinks he is making all the moves and coming up with all the ideas but really…it is I," Rossi elucidated, raising his eyebrow in a conspiratorial manner.

The king threw back the last of his wine and refilled his glass. He gave his opponent half a smile and rephrased his question, "Alright, why would I need you, Lord Rossi?"

"Because through me you will finally get what you want."

"And what is that?"

"Quantico."

"Ha! All I have to do is just redouble my efforts and I could take back that measly kingdom all over again," Charles bragged.

Rossi took a sip of his wine before he answered, "True. But with me you wouldn't have to lose a single soldier or lift a single finger. I could deliver it to you on a platter…a golden platter."

"What's the catch?"

Grinning, Rossi tented his fingers and said, "All I ask in return is for a place of favor in your court, a manor of my own, a generous yearly stipend and servants to wait on me hand and foot."

"That's all?"

"When it comes down to it, I'm a simple man. I just want to live a life of luxury and want for nothing. I have no desire to lead a troop of men or get caught up in the intrigues of court. In the end, I just want to live out my remaining years drowning in fine wine and honey with a lovely lady or two at my side," Rossi described.

"My my, you moved on from Diana awful quick," Charles remarked smugly.

Dave chuckled, "She was just a means to an end. I just made her believe that I was in love with her and she showered me with gifts." A twinge of guilt flickered in Rossi's eyes as he uttered those false words to the king. He silently said a mental prayer to deceased lover asking her to forgive him for his harsh lies.

"Ah yes…women are so easy to fool. That is why they are the lesser of our species."

"Quite right," Rossi agreed.

Charles took another draught of wine and cleared his throat, "So, that's all you want? A comfortable life in exchange for helping me secure a whole kingdom? It seems too good to be true."

"Well, there is one more thing…"

"Go on."

"I see that you confiscated the queen mother's personal slave."

"That I did…and I couldn't be more pleased with him. He's so young and supple. His ass is ripe for fondling while his hips cry out to be penetrated at the same time. He has a sensuousness about him that I've never seen before," Charles gloated, his eyes hooded as he pictured the youth. "He's my most prized possession."

"I couldn't agree with you more, Your Majesty. Something about the boy just makes you want to rip his clothes off to see what's underneath," Rossi concurred.

"Ha! I must admit that undressing him is my favorite part," Charles laughed louder than normal; the wine finally starting to impair his senses.

"Would you be open to allowing me some alone time with him?" Rossi asked cautiously, knowing that this might be his only chance to secure a meeting with Spencer. "I would love to relive a few moments that I shared with him right under Diana's nose."

"Eh? You want – you want to enjoy yourself with my slave?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

The king growled and threw his empty goblet to the floor. He stood up from his chair and threw his hands down on the table before leaning over and putting his face right in front of Lord Rossi's. "I don't share," he hissed.

Dave held up his hands in surrender. "O-of course not, Your Grace. It was just a thought. I understand completely," he said gently in an effort to placate the king.

With a huff, Charles flopped back down in his chair, "Good. Now be a good man and fetch me another glass. I've more wine to drink before this night is through…and you Lord Rossi are going to sit with me while we plan out how to pull the rug out from under King Derek's arse."

Knowing that the subject of Spencer was officially off the table now, Rossi did as he was bidden and grabbed another glass from the table. He filled the king's cup to the brim and handed it to him. He then replenished his own goblet and raised it high. "A toast, Your Highness."

The king unsteadily mimicked the Italian's gesture, "A toast."

Dave licked his lips, "To deceit."

"Here, here - to deceit," Charles added.

"Salute!" Rossi called out before the two men clinked their glasses together and took a simultaneous drink.

And with the king's next statement, Dave knew he had successfully hooked the greedy sovereign. "Let's get started."

Surprisingly enough, Charles was so preoccupied with plotting Derek's demise with Lord Rossi that he didn't have time to enjoy Spencer over the last couple of nights. So, the young man took the time he was given to heal, staying mostly in bed and allowing Tobias to tend to him. It turned out that the prince was a very good caretaker. He brought his friend food and water, helped him up to use the restroom, and constantly checked on the slowly mending wounds.

Of course, his respite from Charles couldn't go on forever. The king had preparations to put into place before his rival king arrived and Spencer had a part in them. That was why Raphael found himself stalking down the castle hallway on his way to the slave's quarter.

He had just left his nephew's empty chambers where he had been told Tobias had not slept for the last few nights. Growling under his breath, the king's brother didn't need to guess where the prince had been spending his time.

When he reached the splintered wooden door he didn't bother knocking; rather he grasped the knob and turned it in fury. The door swung open before him and smacked into the brick wall. "What is the meaning of this?" he shouted at the sight that greeted him. The slave was sprawled out on his stomach on the only cot in the room while Tobias was seated on the floor with his head propped up against the bed.

The two young men jump at the noise that roused them from their sleep.

"Why is the goddamn prince of Georgia sleeping on the stone floor of this wretched slave's room?"

Tobias immediately stood up and brushed himself off. He looked over to his uncle and said warily, "I-I must have fallen asleep after tending to his wounds."

Raphael rolled his eyes, "You are a disgrace, boy. I fear for the day that you take over the crown…sleeping with filth such as this. And you, slave, why are you not bowing before me? Have you forgotten your place?"

"N-n-no, Sir," Spencer stuttered as he tried to push up off of the cot on his own. The act caused him much pain but a few minutes later he was on his knees before the knight, his injured back on full display.

"Now that's a lovely sight to see," Raphael smirked, turning to Tobias. "You see those scars? Those will be permanent. This fool will never forget the consequence of speaking out of turn. Will you slave?"

"N-no, sir."

The prince, clearly uncomfortable with the knight's glee, tried to change the subject. "Was there something you needed, uncle?"

Raphael had to tear his eyes away from his handiwork before he could answer, "Huh? Oh yes…your father is expecting the Quantico delegation to come within the next two weeks. He wants you to go to the tailor and get fitted for a new outfit – one becoming of a prince."

"I will at once," Tobias answered, hoping that his uncle would leave.

"That's not all. You need to take this whore down to the smithy for a fitting too."

"A fitting?"

"Yes, boy – a fitting. Did I stutter?"

"No…but I don't understand. Shouldn't the tailor be fashioning his clothing too?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, boy. Just do as you are told," Raphael scolded. "The king is expecting you to take care of all of this today. So I would get moving," he ordered. "Oh and Tobias –"

"Yes, uncle."

"I'll be informing your father of your sleeping arrangements," the knight announced before leaving.

Tobias's face paled at the implication of his uncle's words. "Shit," he murmured, knowing that the king wasn't going to be happy with him.

Hesitantly, Spencer sat up from his bow and looked up at his friend. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Tobias said. "Here, let me help you up."

Together they got the slave up off the floor with minimal pain. "I guess we've got a busy day ahead of us."

"Yeah…," Spencer agreed in a small voice.

"What? What is it?"

The secret sovereign's hand found its way up to his collar and said, "The last time I was taken to the blacksmith King William had this fused around my neck."

Realization dawned on Tobias's face, "I-I'm sure my father isn't planning something like that. Besides, Raphael said you were to be fitted by the smithy. So whatever it is, it isn't getting…uh…attached today."

The slave didn't say anything, his worries about what awaited him the blacksmith's tent were causing his stomach to revolt regardless of what his friend had to say.

"How is your back?"

"It doesn't like all this movement, but I guess that doesn't really matter anymore," Spencer said, knowing that his days of rest were over.

"Well…uh…we had better get going. If father wants us both fitted today we can't waste time. The royal tailors always take forever with their fittings and I'm not sure how long the smith will take with you," Tobias explained, giving his friend a weak smile.

"Then perhaps I could be of some service," came a smooth voice from the hallway.

Both boy's looked toward the doorway at the sound, surprised to find Lord Rossi casually standing in the frame.

"Oh, uh…Lord Rossi. I couldn't ask that of you."

"Nonsense, Your Grace. I'm quite bored here waiting on my king to arrive. I would love a good excuse to walk around the grounds and explore a bit. And since I haven't been down to the armory as of yet, this is the perfect opportunity," Rossi said slickly.

"I-uh-I don't know…"

"What could be the harm in letting me help? Your father and I are on good terms and I'm sure he won't care as long as his orders fulfilled."

Tobias looked back and forth between Lord Rossi and his friend. Honestly, he knew that his father would be livid if he found out that Lord Rossi spent some alone time with Reed…but he also knew he owed this to his friend. Anyways, he was already going to get in trouble for sleeping in Reed's chambers, so what was the harm of committing another infraction? "Okay," he consented.

"Excellent!" Rossi gushed. "I'll take it from here, Your Highness. You go to your fitting and we'll go to ours. I'll bring the boy straight back here when we're done."

"Alright, I'll see you later then," Tobias said, giving Reed one last look before exiting the room.

Once the prince was gone, Rossi reached out and grabbed the door. He quickly shut it tight and wedged his dagger into the crack, ensuring that no one could open it without excessive force. He then turned to the tortured boy next to him and held out his arms. Immediately, the youth grabbed the front of Dave's doublet and buried his head in the crook of the man's neck. Dave laid his cheek on the crown of the boy's head and cooed softly at him while Spencer release the sobs that had been locked up inside of him for months.