This one's for you, Leaking Fire. Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you like it. Good luck on your exams.

I soon had the opportunity to ask, as the Duke marched up, glaring at his slaves.

"What are you four doing here?" he growled, glaring down at the slaves. The three of the four suddenly looked terrified and lowered their heads, with the exception of Nanashi, whose head was already lowered but did not look overly afraid, only passive and accepting. Again he reminded me of Heero as I had first brought him home, accepting and removed from everything that happened.

"It was Nanashi's idea!" Weave suddenly protested. The other two nodded their heads in agreement, while Nanashi simply kept his head down. "We just wanted to make sure he didn't embarrass you."

"Is that so," Duke asked, glaring down at the boy.

"I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds," I suddenly interjected despite myself. "But I think the responsibility falls equally among them," I said, garnering angry looks from the three more expressive slaves, "but despite whatever they may have done, I must say I was most enjoying their conversation. Surely you won't begrudge me that?" I purred, speaking in the same manner I would at a political conference.

"My friend, I would not begrudge you anything, but these four well knew that they were not to see you until after the show, and then only to choose," he said, then moved his eyes to Nanashi, "So that they might all have a fair chance to win."

I could see his game now. He, also, was hoping to rid himself of what he considered to be an ill performing slave. It made me unsure of Nanashi, but likewise I was unsure of the other three. While they were all talented and pleasant, they seemed somewhat forward, pushy, and shallow. I knew that I had to consider how the two other slaves would react to them, and how they would fit into the dynamics or our home.

"Also, they have other guests to wait on. I cannot allow four of my slaves to be lazy while the others work."

"I'm sure an interview will not change their chances so much. And certainly you can spare one slave from the night's chores."

"I suppose so."

"Then perhaps I can entreat you to allow me an interview with each, so that I will only take up one at a time? It would make the judging process that much easier, for they are all so beautiful and so well behaved," I said, complementing both the slaves and master.

"I will allow it, but only half an hour for each. Then you will have an hour to deliberate before you must make your final choice."

"Fair enough. Jaz can go first, then Honey, then Weave, then Nanshi. And, boys, I expect you to be on your best behavior, and that I am still your master, so do not attempt anything you don't have permission for."

"Yes, master," the three said sullenly. Only Nanshi was silent, staring at the table.

"Nanashi?" the Duke growled, using the boy's hair to force his head back.

"Ah..." he gasped, shaking slightly, "Yes, master," he whispered, his eyes wide and frightened. The Duke released him and nodded to himself. "Now, the rest of you, get back to work."

The three boys scurried off to work, Nanashi scurrying less energetically than the rest, and I was alone with Jaz, who smiled brightly at me.

"So," I said casually, "tell me about your singing."

Instead of telling me, Jaz lead me down the hall to a small kareoke room, where he performed several songs for me. He was decent, but no where near ready to compete in anything. His voice was nice, but his range was limited, and there was nothing truly memorable about his voice. Also, he took praise well enough, but when I suggested that he stand straighter to improve his breathing, he was highly offended, though he tried to conceal it. When he wasn't singing, he asked me many questions about myself, my work, and my home, but he barely asked anything about the other slaves.

Once Jaz was gone it was Honey's turn, and he insisted that we move to the buffet, where he served me all of the dishes he had made and watched me eat them as he railed against the difficulties of using substandard equipment as he had been forced to. The food was good, but certainly not gourmet. The boy certainly had some talent, but there was not enough natural talent to make up for his limited training. When not talking about food or cooking, Honey asked many questions about my slaves, but I often caught a tone in his voice that told me he was searching for a flaw or weakness in them, even before he had met them. Had I been able to convince myself strongly that he was indeed searching for flaws and it was not just my imagination, I would have written him off completely. Despite this not being the case, I was still leery of taking him in.

Weave, despite my dislike of the other two, was the worst of the three. And, while I must attribute some of this to the headache I felt growing behind my eyes, much of it fell into that foul spewing mouth of his. The only time Weave was quiet was when he played piano, which he insisted on doing, and then only because he had to concentrate on the notes to keep from playing wrong. There was no natural flow or grace to his fingers, and his brow furrowed unbecomingly as he played. Once he was finished playing, he began to harp on the flaws of the others, saying that he simply liked me so much he didn't want me to settle for a lesser slave. He repeated over and over how much he liked the other slaves and how much he tried to help them only before pointing out some terrible flaw or grievous error they had made. At least the other two had shown more tact, and I was glad to be rid of Weave. For my own sanity, I would not be taking the pushy loudmouth.

It was with a sort of dread that I greeted my next interview. Though Nanashi had been quiet before, I feared that he would suddenly learn how to sing Opera or play the drums or some other activity that caused my already pounding headache to jolt. However, despite my nightmarish predictions, Nanashi was quiet and demure as he approached me.

"Please follow me," he said, then lead me away from the noisy party.