He knew his part and opened his mouth to sing a sweet song, of love and of luse also. The men started to sing along with him, then Bayard’s arms snaked out and dragged the boy onto his lap. Khaster saw the panic in the boy’s eyes, the urge to struggle, to escape, hampered by the knowledge it was a prince who held him. If Bayard wanted him, he must comply. This was his function. Khaster swallowed hard. He did not want to see this. It sickened him.
-Storm Constantine
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