I was not surprised to see Nanashi leading me into a room, however I was surprised at the room he lead me to. I wasn't quite certain if it was actually a small library or a large study, but either way the room was very quiet and somewhat dim, as a fire burning in the hearth cast and a pair of lights on the wall cast the only light in the room. And, there, on the table beside one of the deep red plush chairs, I saw something that almost made me cry.

Aspirin.

"You seemed to be getting a headache, Master Zechs," Nanashi admitted in his quiet tone, "So I took the liberty of bringing these. I hope it does not offend you."

"I have never been less offended in my life," I said, quickly taking two of them with a glass of water that had been sitting next to the two pills on the silver tray. When I turned around, there was a small, ghost of a smile playing upon his lips, but it quickly flitted away when he saw me watching and his face returned to its passive state.

I motioned for the slave to be seated as I sat on one of the plush couches in the room. In a very slave-like manner, he seated himself on the floor at my knees instead of on the couch. His head was lowered, his hands passively in front of him, awaiting a command.

I couldn't stand it.

"For goodness sake, sit on the couch. I'm not your master," I snapped, then regretted it as the boy flinched, then quickly rose to sit as far away from me on the couch as he could. I sighed, when would I ever learn to hold my tongue?

We sat in silence for some time, Nanashi staring at his hands and I nursing my glass of water, wishing it was something stronger but doubting that would be a good idea. I sighed again and Nanashi finally worked up the courage to speak.

"Master Zechs? You seem tense. I could rub your shoulders, if you'd like," he said, then left it at that, never looking up. I looked at him for a moment, but with his bangs hiding his face I could not read him, so I nodded instead, shrugged off my coat, and turned around.

Despite the fact that he had not mentioned this skill in our previous meeting, his hands were very strong and adept at relaxing muscles. I couldn't help but hum in appreciation as his strong hands steadily released the tension from my body.

About three minutes into the massage, I realized that I had not spoken to the boy, and I would not be able to decide his character if I did not speak to him.

"Do you like the library?" I asked the quiet boy.

"It is calm and peaceful. I like the smell," he said after a brief hesitation.

"Do you read often?"

"I do not read at all."

"A pity. Reading is one of the few great pleasures in life. But perhaps you read before you came to be owned by the Duke?" I asked. There was a pregnant silence behind me as the boy's hands stopped their movement.

"Master," his voice came, soft and pained, "I cannot read."

I almost wrote him off then. So close I came to closing my mind against him for this simple admittance. But he had been brave enough to admit it to me, when he obviously thought it would provoke censure, and for that alone I could not put him aside so quickly.

Questions poured through my head. Why? What kind of schooling had he had? What kind of childhood, in this day, could raise an illiterate child? Even in the very worst parts of the world, the illiteracy rate was never higher than ten percent. So where had he come from? Was he truly daft?

I wanted to ask these questions, but I could feel the tiny tremors running through the boys hands and I knew that, because he was owned by someone else, I would not be permitted to comfort him. So, as the subject obviously troubled him so much, I decided to put it aside for the time being.

"Someday, perhaps, I will ask you more on the subject, but for today let us find another topic of interest."

I could almost hear the sigh of relief from behind me. Nanashi continued the massage more confidently and it was quiet for a few moments, then he hesitantly spoke.

"Could you tell me... of your other slaves? You have two?"

"Yes. Angel and Kitten."

"What are they like?"

"They're both somewhat shy. Kitten is skittish, but he has the brightest smile. Angel is very reserved, but he's also very loyal."

"Do they fight often?"

"No, never. They're very close."

"Oh," he said, but it sounded almost sad. For a minute, I couldn't understand why, then I remembered how the other tow pairs of slaves had tag-teamed him and it was easy to figure out what he had assumed.

"Nanashi," I said, taking his wrist and turning around, "I can't guarantee that I have perfect slaves, but I will assure you that neither Angel nor Kitten will ever act like that. I don't condone deceit," I said strongly. I would have liked to look into the boy's eyes, but he had lowered them again when I turned around.

"It..." he said, then hesitated. "It is not deceit, what they are doing. The lines have been drawn and the rules set forth. I am simply too tired to play their game. Or too stupid," he said, his voice self-mocking.

I could not help but place my hand on his chin and push his head up. I wanted to see into his eyes, for he was an enigma of paradoxes. Unable to read but able to read people. Barely able to speak but saying more than the other three combined.

When I raised his head, Nanashi still would not look at me. His hair covered one eye, which I thought was a shame, because the eye that I could see was a beautiful emerald green. Deciding this, I pushed his bangs away from his face, so that I could see both eyes. Still he would not look at me, instead diverting his eyes to look at the floor.

"Nanashi, look at me."

His eyes moved, but they unfocused before reaching mine. He had put a wall between us, so that he was not more looking at me then than he had been when looking at the floor.

"Nanashi, look at me."

This time, with the repetition of the direct order, he could do nothing but look into my eyes, allowing me to see through his eyes and into his soul. It seemed almost shameful, like peaking through a neighbor's window. Still, I gazed deeply taking in everything I saw. There was an intelligence inside him, but it was deep and hidden. He was wise beyond his years and there was a pain to match inside his soul. He was afraid, but there was as much a fear for everything outside as there was for that within, and I could tell that he was as much afraid of failing his master as he was afraid of failing himself. So he didn't try, choosing instead to hover in this limb. Always reaching, never touching.

I broke eye contact when I knew I could take no more, and found myself mimicking Nanashi in staring at my hands. Nanashi was panting slightly, shaken from the ordeal.

"Thank you," I said after a few moments had passed.

"I-it is time for me to go," Nanashi stuttered, and I looked at the clock to see that there was only a few minutes left in our meeting. I decided it would be best to let the boy go instead of scaring him any more, so I nodded. Nanashi dropped to the floor, kneeling in supplication, then practically ran for the door.

It would not be hard to decide which slave to take.