little french boy. ➵ lashton ✔

neuf.

)neuf is my favorite number in the whole francophone world)

)do you see what i did there with the f and the world and the)

)teehehehehehehe)

After leaving Harlot in her box stall in the stables, Luke made his journey back inside the castle and to their bedroom. His hands were shaking, because he and Ashton had left on such a vague note that he hardly knew what was going to happen.

He opened the door, seeing Ashton look up from his desk and setting whatever he was writing on and writing with to the side.

"Sit down on the bed," Ashton directed quietly, yet firmly.

Luke did as told, wrapping his legs in under his hips as he sat down, looking at Ashton.

Ashton seemed to sense the fear in Luke's eyes, and even in the way he moved, but Ashton knew that what he was doing needed to be done.

"Luke, do you know who the king of this castle is?" Ashton asked, pacing about the large room although never losing Luke's wide blue eyes.

"Y-You," Luke answered timidly.

"Exactly."

Ashton suddenly met eyes with Luke, startling the French boy.

"And do you know what happens to people whom I think may be trying to impeach me?"

Luke swallowed thickly, he didn't know what impeach even meant but he knew that the comment was somehow directed towards him.

He shook his head, tears filling up in his eyes and his head beginning to feel heavy and hot.

"They are demoted," Ashton said simply, moving closer to Luke until their faces were inches away, "and since you have such a high position here, who would you be to give that up?"

Luke's hands were beginning to shake and his lips let go of their pokerface and he began to cry, rambling out apologies and admonishments to himself in French.

Ashton thought he had succeeded in getting his point before he heard Luke's breath hitching over and over again. He sat down on the bed beside Luke and hugged him, the French boy squirming and crying harder.

"Sir Ashton, se il vous plaît pardonnez-moi pour ce que je ai fait. Je vais revenir à la cave où je appartiens, si vous le souhaitez." Luke sobbed.

Ashton shook his head, petting Luke's long hair and curling the boy up in his arms. "No need," Ashton said softly, holding Luke tightly.

Ashton had his place as king, and he wasn't about to give it up to anybody, so hearing Luke cry was a small price to pay for keeping his kingdom in tact.

//

The next day, Luke woke up without Ashton at his side and he went to his daily lessons without him.

Luke had been learning geography lately, and George had been showing him some chapels around the world.

He found the Duke's castle on a map, and George allowed him to use a needle to mark it on the world map that was on the wall.

That was reserved for only special places.

Luke somehow missed the Duke, because at least when he was with the Duke, the Duke spent time with him and made time for him.

That was what Luke craved, attention. Time spent all on him, everything being about him.

Unfortunately, that was never bound to happen and Luke was decidedly undermined here. Luke loved Ashton, and he was quite sure that you had to love someone in order to have sex with them, but why had Ashton yelled at him?