“I cannot do this,” the young man hissed softly across an ornate dining room table.

“Darling, there is nothing either of us can do about this. You know that,” the woman across from him said.

The young man sighed, silky caramel hair falling into his eyes as he fell back into his velvet cushioned dining chair. His dark chocolate eyes – narrow naturally and now slit in thought – directed themselves to his untouched breakfast, mind too distressed to stomach food.

“Your father is right,” the woman suddenly broke the silence. “I’ve babied you for too long. I’ve let you delay this but it must end. Onew-ah, it is time you take up the practices of all young men of your standing.”

“I cannot,” Onew responded strongly. “I cannot own a living thing like that. Especially not for a purpose so base.”

“It is your right as a wealthy man, as a man of nobility. Besides, you’ve owned pets before. It’s no different.”

Astonished, Onew stood from his chair and walked to the large dining room windows. Outside he saw slaves tending to the gardens, feeding the fish in the large koi pond, exercising the family horses. His family’s estate had ten slaves in manual labor positions. Those serving in the house itself were servants; humans.

The slaves Onew had grown up around had always been used for labor. Though he’d never been a fan of the practice of slaveholding, at least these ones had clear jobs. They weren’t degraded every day, abused physically and emotionally for the enjoyment of wealthy humans. Not like the type of slave his parents wanted him to acquire. Not like the type his father kept on their summer estate, the kind Onew avoided eye contact with during trips there.

“They are not like us, dear.” Onew spun around quickly to stare at his mother, still seated at the breakfast table. Her ebony hair, twisted into a complicated knot, shone in the morning light. She was such a kind woman, but so blinded by the life of luxury she had grown up in.

They are not like us.

It was a preposterous statement. Of course they were similar. They had arms and legs, bodies and eyes and the same types of facial structures and the ability for language. Just because their planet had evolved differently to resemble some animals found in the human world, just because some had horns or tails or fluffy ears, just because humans had chosen to hunt them for sport and sell them for profit did not make them inherently any different in status from people. It only meant humans had consciously made the decision to treat them as lesser beings.

And it all made Onew sick.

“I thought you understood how I felt on this subject, Mother,” he said softly to the glass of the window.

“I understood that you didn’t feel ready for the commitment. But you are twenty-two now, darling. It is time to mature and accept responsibility. You will disappoint your father greatly if you keep refusing.”

“Somehow I feel I will disappoint him regardless.”

“Do not have an attitude with me, Jinki-ah,” his mother said sternly. Onew flinched at the use of his birth name. She only called him by it when she was angry. “Tomorrow you will go to the Keeper’s and get yourself a suitable Pleasure Halfling.”

“Mother, please,” Onew’s voice came out bitterly. “Do not use the politically correct term for them. Call them what they are. They are slaves.”

“As a member of the nobility you should know better than to use the commoner language for them. They are correctly known as Halflings and you will do well to remember your place and call them as such.”

Onew was only a moment away from giving an angry reply when he stopped himself. He shouldn’t anger his mother. She kept his feelings from his father who would tear him apart if he knew the truth. The Duke of Iksan’s only child could not be soft, after all. His mother looked as if she was going to speak again when the door to the dining room opened.

“Excuse me, Duchess, but the cooks are requesting a word with you about the rest of the week’s menu,” a servant from the kitchen stuck his head through the door.

“Of course, Junsil. I’ll be there in a moment.”

The Dutchess stood from her seat and made her way over to the door. Before leaving she turned to her son one last time.

“You will go to the Keeper’s with your father tomorrow and you will bring home a Halfling.”

“Yes, Mother,” Onew murmured back with a small bow.

And with a swish of crimson skirts, his mother was gone.

----------------

He had been reading the same paragraph in his philosophy book for half an hour when the door to his room opened.

In walked a boy of about his age, chocolate brown hair swept to one side and a leather bag in his hand.

“Jonghyun,” Onew murmured as he closed the leather bound book. “I’m glad you are so proficient at the practice of knocking.”

“Of course, my Lord. Wouldn’t want to disturb any of your hard work or anything,” the shorter responded, gesturing to the empty pages sitting on the desk in front of the elder. He fell into the soft, oversized armchair by the fireplace and gave his friend one of his best eating grins. Onew made a face at the title of Lord – Jonghyun only ever used it to bother the elder.

Onew had met Jonghyun when he was ten and Jonghyun only nine. At the time his father was the family tailor and Jonghyun had been training to one day take his place. While the two grown ups spent time talking, or Tailor Kim was taking the Duke’s measurements, Onew and Jonghyun would sit off to the side and play with fabric scraps. When he was only seventeen, Jonghyun’s father had died suddenly making his son, young but extremely talented, the sole tailor of the Lee family. He even oversaw the head seamstress who was in charge of the Duchess’s clothing.

Jonghyun was Onew’s oldest friend and closest confidante. Onew’s father was the closest advisor to the king; having grown up as more of his brother than cousin, and many members of nobility felt it would be suiting to try to use his son to get closer to royalty. Onew kept his distance from most of nobility, never one for being used or for playing the popularity game. Aside from his second cousin, Prince Taemin, Onew had only Jonghyun as a true friend.

“Why are you here, Jjong? I know it’s not to help me study Sartre.”

“I’ve been informed by your father that I am to free up the next few days to design and make clothing for your future Halfling. I thought I should come confirm it myself. It’s about time, may I add.”

Onew gave his friend a look and sighed. “I don’t want a pleasure slave, Jonghyun. They are forcing me.”

“I know how you feel, hyung. Not that I understand it. If I were of noble blood I’d have three or four of them by now.”

“Jonghyun, please,” Onew groaned, allowing his head to fall toward the desk, landing on his folded hands.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” the younger softened, all joking aside. “You know there's nothing we can do. Your father has been very adamant about this since your eighteenth birthday. Men don't usually wait very long after coming of legal age to purchase a Halfling-”

“Slave,” Onew interrupted loudly, voice slightly muffled by the desk.

“-and you have waited four years. The prince had one picked out nearly a week before his birthday!”

“Taemin and I are different, you know that. And he treats his very well,” the other admitted begrudgingly.

Onew, though only three and a half at the time, could still vaguely remember the celebration upon Taemin’s birth. The queen had given birth to two healthy girls – Taeyeon and Taejin – and suffered two miscarriages before she had become pregnant with the prince.

Prince Taemin soon became renowned in the kingdom as the “Angel of Hangeong.” He was famous for his disarming beauty and infallible good manners. His loveliness was so surprising and effeminate that some amongst royalty had questioned if the king had in fact fathered another daughter and was trying to pass her off as a son in fear of never having a male heir. But it became apparent, as Taemin finished puberty, that this was not true. His shoulders broadened, his arm muscles grew, his jaw strengthened. Taemin was in fact a male, and a male who had stolen the hearts of almost every female he’d come in contact with. With his good looks, propriety and royal lineage it didn’t really take much.

And Taemin, though spoiled since childhood, had never become a brat. When he had acquired his slave he used what pull he had to get it the most plush of accommodations; its own room in the royal palace, the best clothes of its own choosing, control over the menu it was served. Taemin treated his as a best friend, not locking it up only for pleasure. If the prince was anywhere his slave was close behind.

But Onew feared he could not have the same freedom. Taemin was allowed these indulgences because he was the crowned prince, heir to the throne of Hangeong. He was indulged in his every whim, even if others considered it strange. After all, one was not supposed to coddle their slave.

Taemin could get away with it because no one refused the crowned prince anything. But Onew would just been seen as a soft master. And there were few things the Duke of Iksan hated more than the thought of his son being too soft.

“Hyung,” Jonghyun sighed softly. He made his way behind his friend’s desk and laid a hand on the older’s shoulder. “You will treat yours well, too.”

“But my father,” Onew shook his head. “He treats his badly. He will expect the same from me.”

“So put on a show for the duke. He’s never around anyway. You will treat your slave well, I know that. Perhaps they will come to see you as a friend.”

“But I will still own another living thing, Jonghyun! They will have a home and a family and friends that we have ripped them away from. How can they not hate me for that?” Onew turned two upset, rounded eyes up to his friend.

“You cannot change what you must do, hyung. All you can do is make the best of it.”

Onew could only nod in acceptance. His friend was right, after all.

-------------------------------------------

So here's part one! I know the way they speak and all may seem weird.. but it's due to their royal standing and all. It's just alternate universe future I suppose. Certain things may seem weird like they talk too 'olden' but have too many new gadgets... but it's just because this universe is a bit different than ours in my head. Especially among the more privileged. 

Please let me know what you think!!! Thank you so much for reading.

PS: The next part will either be very long or very short. Depends on how I decide to break it up. =]