You were raised to serve the throne since girlhood; your father was the lord's blacksmith, and your mother was a common maid. As soon as you had proper motor function, you were put to work alongside your mother until you were old enough to clean on your own and not wander off.

You kept to yourself, imagining other impossible worlds full of magic and creatures unlike the ones you saw in reality. When in your daydreams, you worked with precision and without complaint. This is what caught the attention of his lordship.

One day, you were called before him, initially terrified, you had somehow upset him, and it would be your final day drawing breath. However, that was not the case. He actually wanted to promote you to his personal servant, but you wasted no time in agreeing gratefully.

So that is what you did, you learned how the lord valued routine and things being done a specific way. You could, and did, do that.

After some time working for the lord personally, you learned some things about him, how sometimes you would catch him going to help a servant reach something too high before catching himself and refraining. Or how his gaze lingered on the families among his staff a bit too long. Not that you spoke your findings aloud, but you tucked them away in your mind quietly.

This morning, you were called to the throne room once more, feeling that familiar bile creep up your throat anxiously.

As you kneeled before him, he asked you to retrieve a woman from the prison, you knew by the gleam in his eye and the sharpness of his claws that he intended to execute her.

You took a shaky breath and nodded before scurrying away to do the lord's bidding. On the way, you debated the morality of what you were about to do. But before you could even begin to try and defend it, you came face to face with her. You remember her crime, theft, petty theft at best. She tried to steal a loaf of bread, but it was clear that it was because she was starving, desperate, and unable to afford it.

She was a tiny little thing, despite being an adult. Filthy and curled in the corner, crying silently. You knew then and there, you couldn't go through with walking this poor woman to her death.

You glanced around, making sure the guards weren't paying intense attention as you unlocked her cell and led her away. At the end of the stairs was the door to the throne room and the door to the garden. You made a swift left.

She leaned on you heavily but assured you she could walk. You instructed her through the hedge maze and watched her stagger on. You almost smiled when a sharp voice called out from behind. You turned and stared as a group of guards came running towards you. Half of them grabbed hold of you while the others chased down the woman. The thought of being put back in that cell or worse must have put the fear of God in her, as you only saw kicked-up grass blades where she had just been standing.

And that was all you saw before the guards dragged you inside. They held you by the arms as you were put on your knees once again in front of Xenass, who looked down at you with a cruel smirk.

"Leave us." He commanded, and in the blink of an eye, the room was empty besides you and him. You trembled like a dry leaf in autumn, your hands already placed against the ground and a thousand apologies and pleas for mercy at the ready on your lips.

Before any of it could fall off your tongue, he held his hand up, already anticipating your reaction and stopping it.

"You disobeyed a direct order from your lord, letting that peasant girl go free, helping her escape." He tsked.

"You have always been my perfect little doll. I wonder what changed to turn you into a fox." He mused aloud before beckoning you nearly. Your legs seemed to move of their own accord, pressing you forward until they cobbled and you collapsed at his feet.

He reached out and twirled a strand of your hair around his finger, "What to do with you..." he trailed off, leaving you in petrifying anticipation.

"Here" was all he said. You looked up and saw his free hand lazily sitting in his lap. When you didn't immediately move he tugged your hair and clicked his tongue.

"Here." He repeated, more stern this time, and patted his thigh. You swallowed and crawled into his lap quickly, initially sitting on one of his thighs before he placed his hand between your shoulder blades and pushed you forward so you were partially bent over the arm of his throne.

You gasped but didn't dare say a word of protest. His hand moved to your lower back to hold you steady as he moved to hold your thighs under his free leg, effectively trapping you in his lap.

He hummed, pleased with himself as his free hand massaged your ass through your clothes. "Such a perfect body wasted on a disobedient servant." He sighed, as if this were a great disappointment.

Without another word or preamble, he lifted your skirts and admired your now bare ass. You felt your body flush with the sudden feeling of being on display, even if the room was empty, it felt like you had a million eyes upon you.

Xenass said nothing, but his gaze couldn't remove itself from your pert ass. He massaged it more before finally speaking, "Because of your perfection before today, you will be let off with a warning."

His words were sharp, stern, just like the sudden sting on your ass when he brought his hand down to slap it. You yelped in shock and squirmed as a giant but faint red handprint formed on your flesh.