The Beastkeeper's Bride

24: A Sordid Tale

24: A Sordid Tale

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He'd always had an affinity for animals- human and fae alike- which is why when Dianora ordered him to drown the kitten or leave, Blayne chose the latter.

He had been a young boy of no more than ten and seven years when he gathered his meagre belongings and bid farewell to the tiny, ramshackle room that he shared with several other faeborn boys of similar age to him. He hadn't had a meal since the day past, and his stomach protested weakly at the reminder, even as he hitched his threadbare satchel over his shoulder and ignored the way the straps bit into the raw callouses of his palms- burnt and scalded from shovelling coal into a furnace for long hours every day of his existence at one of the factories nearby.

Dianora's aged face hadn't been pleased at his decision to abandon her establishment- but then again, Blayne had never really seen the elderly fae woman pleased about anything. There was no love lost between her and her displaced wards- children lost and orphaned at the occurrence of The Reveal. Her lot was like many other elder fae in the slums- removed from an existence they adored and deposited into one where they were no longer welcome. She lamented that once she had served in a queen's court in their world, surrounded by riches and lavishes that far surpassed what could be found in this one. Bitterness sat heavily on her brow, and it was with a cold heart that she tended the displaced children of The Reveal, accommodating them as best she could with the means available to her. It was an unwilling duty that she performed, the obligation to remain loyal to her kind even if the role was bestowed upon her against her will. When the children came of age to acquire positions of labour, they were informed to earn their keep and their meals by paying her a share of their wages- though it was a pitiful amount the Other earned to endure the conditions of employment that they did. It was not unusual to go to bed with an empty stomach amid the squalor and vermin that permeated the derelict structure they resided in.

The kitten had found him from within the factory- its tiny leg badly mangled. It would not survive on its own, so he had brought it back to his lodgings with him that day. In Dianora's eyes, it was only another burden to feed, another expense to add to their already insubstantial livelihood.

The life in the slums was a tough one, and Blayne figured that he'd have as much a chance on the streets than he would with the others. So he had left and did not look back at the impoverished life he was leaving behind.

Fate may have been watching over him that day, however, for he was fortunate to chance upon a rearing and bucking horse, its terrified rider endeavouring to remain within the saddle with all his might. Blayne had rushed into the fray on the busy street, soothed the agitated beast with an ease and efficiency that was noted quickly by the nobleman astride it.

Lord Henry Torshell offered him a position in his stables immediately.

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"You're to join us on a hunt today, boy," Torshell told Blayne, almost a year later.

He had been leading one of the breeding mares back to her pen when he had come across the lord waiting for him. Henry had been kind to him, though Blayne's means were below even that of the lowest rank of service at the manor. However, he wanted for very little and the company he kept with the animals on the estate were enough to tide him over. Tending to the lord's prized breeding stock and hunting canines gave Blayne a certain feeling of contentment- ensuring the animals were well-tended, healthy and at their happiest. He had a meal every day, clothes on his back, and even though he faced unwholesome slurs from the other serving staff employed by the lord, it was better than he could have asked for.