Keepers, chosen to aid the ones of high status and rank, to serve their every whim. I am one of them, but who I serve is rather….

“Ugh! Why can’t I seem to get this concoction right!” My Keep whines, banging his fists on his table in child-like anger.

I stand by his side, not too close of course, for I might offend him, and watch as this happens. It seems he’s trying to make some kind of potion. I can’t read, so I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s hue is blood red and menacing where it settles in that cauldron.

“Frasian!” Ul Kaynum turns toward me, his face red.

“Yes, my lord.”

Ul Kaynum waves his hands at his mess and asks, “Does this look a bit too much to you?”

_Yes, yes it does. Though I do not know what it is for. All this work is rather uncharacteristic of you._ “No, my lord.”

He grumbles. “Why’d I even ask you; you’re just a slave.”

Yes. I am aren’t I. A slave with a title. Though I have a better life than the other Keepers.

Look, I didn’t ask to be picked. None of us did. But I must say that I am glad my Keep isn’t hard on me in the sense of whipping.

Abruptly, Ul Kaynum stands up from his chair and takes a few steps toward me. “I must say,” he looks me up and down, stopping on my face after he’s made his round, “When’s the last time you’ve taken a dip in the river?” He gives me a sniff then grimaces before he walks away towards his quarters. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Go do it now, Frasian! We are going over to Lord Ul Gads this evening!”

“Yes, my lord,” I mutter, even as he closes the door to change. I sniff myself, has it really been that long?

“Ugh,” I gag. Bless the Emperor, it really has been _that_ long.

***

My Keep gave me a long, pale red robe made of slik to accompany his same colored trousers and white dress shirt. The servants gave me a look over before I left, dabbing on kohl around my eyes and painting my lips a blood red.

I sit across from Ul Kaynum in his carriage, who’s nose is in a book, with my legs together quite tightly. It’s custom for Keepers to have nothing on but a robe when they go to celebrations. To make it easier for their Keeps to, how may I phrase this, have a pleasant night.

Again, I am glad that my Keep keeps himself occupied in different, less perverted ways.

When we finally arrive at Lord Ul Gads mansion, take my place behind Ul Kaynum as we enter the large doors that are opened by soldiers.

I am not particularly flabbergasted at the sight I behold. I have been to many, many celebrations. (And have seen the horrific things that occur to the Keepers there).

Spread across every white, polished pillar are streamers of velvet red. The floor has red carpets. The walls. Red.

_Why is everything red?_

As we enter the main hall, I see the other Keepers, still and quiet, lining the wall facing towards an area with cushions and chairs. In those chairs are the other leaders of the land who are all conversating.

The one in the biggest chair chuckles when he seems me and my Keep enter. Ul Gads is rather large and musclar, always with a smile on his face and a predatory gleam in his eye. I must say, I feel bad for his Keeper. The lord reminds me of things that go bump in the night.

“Ah, Kaynum, your late!” He roars, face red with wine. The Keepers don’t react at all to this loud noise. They stand forward, knowing that only bad comes if they anger their Keeps.

Ul Kaynum mumbles a greeting, then signals me to go stand by the other Keepers as he makes his way toward a cushion.

The Keeper I stand next to at the end of the line is a male like me, and as I haven’t seen him before, I assume he’s new. Although he’s much skinner and lighter than me. I’m surprised _he_ became a Keeper. Usually the lighter skinned ones live as a unpaid house keeper or cook.

I spare a glance while the Keeps are distracted. I am met with the purest blue eyes I have ever seen. He is staring right back at me.

_Why does he seem so familiar?_

***

It’s deep into the night now. I’m tired. Me legs burn. They haven’t instructed us to sit down, so I have no choice but to stand.

Beside me, the Keeper’s eyes are drooping. I nudge his hand, giving a small sigh when he jolts up. I don’t want him to get punished.

I am relived when Ul Kaynum calls me forth, but then I realize that no other Keeper was called, and that all of the Keeps are looking at me intently.

Ul Gads clears his throat. “Kaynum says you can dance, is that true?”

I don’t think I like whether this is going. Also how the hell did Ul Kaynum find out my past as a child performer. I thought all those papers were burnt.

“Yes, my lord.”

Ul Gads leans back in his chair. “Trink, come stand beside Frasian.”

I do not turn to see who it is. Somehow I already know who it is.

The boy with the blue eyes.

The Keeps chatter amongst themselves. I spot Ul Kaynum having a frown in his brow, as though he is trying very hard to do something.

“All right then you two,” Ul Gads says, sipping on his wine, “Take off your robes.”

I stiffen, the boy beside me doesn’t react at all. Now I know who his Keep is. _Oh bless the Emperor. _

__

But before I even start to reach the hem of my clothing, Ul Gads starts to choke. And splutter. And cough.

Red splotches escape his throat and land on his expensive clothes. His large hand clutches the air, trying to get something, trying to reach something. The Keeps are alarmed, the women screaming, the men rushing towards the lord. Even the soldiers.

But we Keepers stand still. We cannot move until they command us too. For if we do, we risk our lives.

Why should we care about theirs?

***

Ul Gads is deceased.

I don’t really care about that, I care more about the blue-eyed boy. So image my surprise and excitement when I see him returning with me and my Keep to our home.

“He’s only staying for a hot minute, Frasian,” Ul Kaynum mutters, “Stop looking so excited.”

I sit in the carriage just like I arrived, but with another Keeper by my side. Well, ex-Keeper. I wish to ask him questions, but my Keep is already in a foul mood. I dont want to test the waters and make them boiling.

So I’ll keep my mouth shut for now. Though I do spare him a few glances. Which he returns.

***

_Ul Kaynum_

__

The poison worked rather too well. I groan to myself, muttering in annoyance when Frasian turns to me, a concerned look in his face. He shouldn’t be so concerned about _me_ of all people. His slaver. The other Keeper, Trink, doesn’t look my way. He’s staring the heck out of Frasian.

But really, I had meant the poison to work more slowly than what it did. I just hope and pray that no one saw me pour the vial.

**_Because the Revolution is just starting. _**

I spare a look at the two Keepers in front of me. Frasian looks back, he cocks his head, no doubt troubled by my unusual behavior.

**_And I am going to be a part of it._**