"Slave! Where is my brunch!?" a young child's voice hollers, echoing off the walls of the long, golden hallways. They reach the ears of a short, bald slave boy as he scurries across the marble floor. He is carrying a heavy silver platter. A sandwich upon a plate and a tall glass of apple juice teeter this way and that upon the tray as the panting slave enters the child's chamber. The boy is blonde, and his face holds a pout. His little arms are crossed over his chest, while his green eyes glare at the slave as he enters the room.

"Its about time you brought me my food," the little child says in a snort. The slave remains silent as he approaches the boy. But then his foot catches upon the edge of the rug. His dark eyes widen as he falls forward. The little master yelps as the contents of his sandwich land upon his shirt and his apple juice spills all over his face and hair. The slave stares at the shocked boy. The wet blonde tendrils cling to the young master's face. His green eyes are wide. The slave bites his lower lip when he sees the little boy's face scrunch up in discontent. The young master's face goes red with rage and he screams out.

"I'm sorry, Master Aleksander!" the slave cries in response to the child's tantrum. Other servants and slaves run into the room, staring at the scene before them. An older slave takes the younger one away, while others surround the blonde boy, pick him up and carry him to the bathroom. They strip him of his sandwich covered garments, draw a bath, and set him in the warm water. They then attend to washing his hair of the sticky apple juice. The little blonde has quieted his cries of annoyance. He sits in the tub, sulking out of hate toward the young slave's accident.

"I want food," the little boy hisses. One of the slaves gets up silently and leaves the room. She returns shortly with another silver tray holding a sandwich and glass of juice upon it. She sets it upon the edge of the tub. The child picks up the sandwich and begins to munch upon it. His eyebrows remain furrowed as he eats silently.

"I apologize on behalf of my son, Master Aleksander... He didn't mean to dirty you," another slave in the room murmurs. The child jerks his head in the direction of the young slave's father, his long wet hair slapping another slave in the face.

"Apologize? You think a simple apology will cover for his mistake?" the young master replies in a growl. The fatherly slave fidgets slightly.

"No sir... but what more am I to do? I am already your slave as is he," the slave murmurs. The spoiled child looks away from the slave, picking up a yellow rubber duck, and squeezing it tightly in his little fist. The slave father swallows and remains quiet. The little brat's anger still infests the room, hanging in the air, and causing utter awkwardness to strain the servants' every movement.

After deeming the boy clean, the slaves pull their young master from the tub, wrap him in a fluffy towel, and carry him back to his chamber. There he is set down, and attended to. One slave begins to brush the boy's long blonde tresses that end at his midback. Another pulls mint-colored satin garments upon the boy's body, clothing him in the wear of his fine upbringing. The child's face remains straight---sour set in stone. The slaves step back from the boy and he walks out of his chamber. He turns a few corners, coming to another large bedroom. He bursts through the door.

"Father! One of the slaves spilled a meal upon me!" the little boy yells. His father is sitting upon the bed, reading a book.

"And? What do you want me to do about it?" his father murmurs without paying much attention to his child. The young master folds his arms once more.

"Chop off two of his fingers!" the little boy yells. His father, who has similar blonde tresses, shoos his hand.

"Yes yes, off with the slave's fingers. One from each hand. Now off with you, Aleksander," his father murmurs as he continues his reading. The little boy turns and walks from the room, heading back to his own bedchamber.

Later that evening, the little boy smiles rather fiendishly as he hears the earsplitting screams of the young slave...

loosing two of his fingers...

*To Be Continued*