"Get up, rat," said the leading slave. "It's time to dance for the king."

Flower jumped up from where he had been leaning against the wall. He appeared, eyes downcast, back straight, hands clenched at navel. He gritted his teeth and waited impatiently for the slave to hit him in the ear with a stick, as usual, but the stone man simply turned and led the flower out of the aft deckhouse, and he slept beside the king's women and girls, and went into the open bastions.

The sun had already set, but not so long ago, because the sky was still a little bright. It was a long walk from one end of the hill enclosed by a wooden fence to the other, and the stonemasons were not in a hurry. He walked slowly, though the icy mud from the road froze into their shoes.

Flowers are almost unbearable; He wanted to run anywhere as fast as he could. For a whole day, he just stood there doing nothing but waiting. Dressed in gorgeous red linen trousers, without a shirt, and wearing a lot of silver jewelry. Now that he was outside, the necklace against his bare chest immediately froze; But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if the cold stains his face redder than white. It was the first time they had let him go out in his shoes, and he wanted to enjoy it.

But he couldn't. He can't act too happy or too sad, or someone will hit him. So he tried to hide his excitement and focused on maintaining good posture and not letting his tail wag around like a happy dog.

The lead slave was not a foreigner like the king and his subjects. After living with his father, mother, and Gabby, Flower was able to distinguish between different types of stone figures. The exotic creatures had pale hair, but were not as pretty as Gabe, with beards hanging down to their mouths. Sometimes they also grow beards, but not like dads. Their skin is usually the color of dry wheat stalks. But the hair and beard of the slave leader were black like Dad's, and his face was of a different shape. His skin wasn't as dark as Daddy's, so he wasn't an old cultist either. The other slaves refused to say where he came from, but once Flower overheard that he had been king.

Judging by the way the man walked, Flower believed it. He walked like a slave, even if his voice was humble. His steps were too long, and he walked not hunched over, but with his chest straight. It's hard to say what he's thinking, though, unlike Dad. Dad, you can always see it. He spends half of his time frowning at things, so you know he's angry and you know what he's angry about.

But now, the leading slave walked slower than usual, and his steps leaned back slightly, as if he didn't want to go there. It's horrible. After being trapped inside for so many days, Hana wanted to run, stretch, play, and see everything in the king's entire fortress, but he could only follow. Sluggish.

The lead slave looked back once or twice to make sure the flower was still following him, but there was a gentle expression on his face, or a sad one, not the usual impatient one. Flower felt his excitement fade away, replaced by nervousness. Not much. Only a little bit.

The stoneman said, "Listen, mouse. The king's new slaves will be there. You know who I'm talking about. If you say one word to him – one word—— you will be beaten and hung up for a day. On the outside. Don't wave at him and don't pat your heart. Don't even look at him. You're going to be punished, you won't like it. ”

"I know. They told me," Flower said. His heart was beating wildly. He could feel his tongue throbbing. He was so excited, it didn't seem like it was real. Like it's a scam. He's finally going to see his dad again.

"I repeat, lest you forget." The slave leader sighed and looked down at the ground, and Flower pricked up his ears to hear clearly. The stone man's shoulders leaned forward slightly, and he sounded like he was regretting what he had said. "Don't mess it up. The king can strangle you like a five-legged lamb if he wants to, and no one will care. Your only value is to please the king. Nobody wants you. ”

This sentence stung him, and he slowly got used to it, even though everyone said such things to him. In fact, presbyopia always hears such words, but this is no longer true. Now his whole family knows. Squabyhodon is hated by everyone, even his old mother, even his siblings. Presbyopia is not good at anything. Lao Hua didn't dare to speak, he had been scared.

But the flowers are A

d

Son of Okles. Xiaohua sings better than anyone else, he can use a sling and a knife, and if someone teaches him, he can do anything. Because daddy's sons are like that. The new flowers are not going to let the old flowers come back. Little Flower will one day grow up to be as great as her father, just as he did when he was about seventeen years old.

The stupid aliens thought they were embarrassing him by putting jewels on him and teaching him to dance. But they don't know that the Raffaelian dances all the time, boys and girls, even adults, and that these aliens are actually just teaching him something good.

So, Hana endured her shame and suspicion, put her mind at ease, and ignored the harsh words of the leader. He walks quietly because quiet walking makes a person look elegant. The king's dancers taught him this. He smiled at himself, but only in his heart, not on his face.

When they arrived at the King's Great Hall, Flower shivered. It towered above him, much taller than he had imagined from the women's descriptions. In the light of the torches, he could barely see small animals, people, and things carved into wooden beams and doors, and he wished he could stop and climb up to see everyone, but he couldn't.

The building exudes strength and skill, and Flower wonders what Dad thinks. Dad hated what the barbarians did, but even he had to admit that the King's Great Hall was a building worthy of a powerful ruler.

Flower bent her fingers, imagining Pepper holding hands and standing beside him. It's harder to find Pepper than it is to find anyone. Dad can take care of himself, and Mom will take care of Gabi. One of them will also take the wolf sca

。 But Pepper was taken away on her own. Pepper, his first and best friend, loved him when he was still a presbyopia. Dad needs to hurry up and save everyone.

A shocking shock of pain tore Flower from his mind as his head slave pierced both of his ears with his stick.

"Are you paying attention?" The leading slave asked in an exasperated voice.

The flower nodded in tears.

"Good. You look like you're wandering. Focus!"

Flowers are concentrated. The pain in his ears spread downwards, to his entire head and even to his neck. He gritted his teeth, leaned forward slightly, took a deep breath, and tried to blink his eyes, wiping away the tears and disorientation from such a heavy slap in his ear. They hurt so badly that he feared they would be torn, but he didn't dare reach out and touch them. The pain spread all the way to his mandible.

The lead slave said, "I think I can give you a minute to get ready for yourself." Then he sighed, put his fist on his buttocks, and watched the sunset, a little relaxed. Although the leading slave had a disciplined face, Flower saw deep regret or pity in his face. It was the first time in Hana's memory that something like this had been seen from him; Maybe that guy will open up and they'll get along better? Maybe not, but maybe it will. After a while, the pain in Hana's ears disappeared. He took a few more deep breaths and nodded, ready to look as elegant as the women had taught him.

There was a hint of excitement in the stone man's voice, and he said, "Listen, mouse, there is ......"

When he stopped, Flower looked up. However, the lead slave did not finish speaking. The man's face twitched, as if he had been caught by indecision—indecision had hurt him. Xiaohua immediately felt very uncomfortable, and to make matters worse, the slave remained silent for a long time and became very embarrassed.

Finally the man said, "It's okay. Come on. ”

In his most humble voice, Flower asked, "What do you want to tell me?"

"Nothing. Let's go," said the leading slave. He led Flower around the back of the King's Hall to the slave's door, which faced the tall wooden walls of the fortress. There were several paths leading in different directions, which gave Flower the impression that the rear end of the building was used more than the front end, which struck him as odd. Since most of the time is in the shade, the paths here are icy.

The stone man opened the door, and a warm air rushed out, filled with the smell of meat and spirits. Flower could almost taste the smell in the air, and he must have been too obvious, for the maître d'æ reminded him, "None of this food is for you." Go ahead. Stand to the left of the king's women, and do as they say. After eating, you can dance. ”

Hana lowered her head and walked in, flicking her tail when the master and slave almost closed the door. The warm air wrapped around him like a blanket, uplifting him and making him feel comfortable. However, there is nothing to see; A flat wooden wall separates this entrance from the view of the king's guests. A short corridor runs from the left and right, and a low-burning oil lamp hangs from a hook on the wall so that people can see where they are going.

He hesitated for a moment, not knowing if he would fall into some kind of great embarrassment. But no one will really notice the slaves until they need to drink or drop something, even the Thunderbolt slaves with pointed white ears. He turned to the left and circled the wall until it brought him to the Great Hall.

The interior lived up to every rumor he heard. The walls and tables were adorned with riches he could not imagine; Pottery from Papa's people and elsewhere, intricately carved shields, stone statues of gods, gold-encrusted animal bones, boldly embroidered fabrics and tapestries.

The most prominent and abundant are the severed heads. There were dozens, if not hundreds, of kings. Flower didn't even count. In fact, there was one next to him, an arm's length away. Its hollow, sunken eyes couldn't see anything, and its open jaw showed a shriveled tongue. It smells like cedarwood oil, not rot, and doesn't look like it's going to fall apart. Flower didn't know how long it had been.

The room was filled with sounds, smells, colors, and light like he had never seen in his life. Flowers can't accept all this; He shook his feet slightly, almost fainting. Breathing in the heavy air, he felt dizzy. The light dazzled his eyes. He blinked quickly, then shook his head vigorously, his ears crooked, which was always a little tingling. He straightened his hair with his hands and took a deep breath to clear his mind.

But the sound was pressed in his ears, it was the sound of too many people talking, it was the sound of drums, flutes, clangs and pounds, and the smell penetrated deep into his lungs and seized the space of air. He couldn't control himself. Even though he hadn't eaten today, his stomach was churning and he was about to vomit. He needs to get stronger; He needs to be a newcomer. New Flowe

Can handle this. New Flower ......

A loud voice shouted in the chaos: "Ah, here comes my new dance partner!" Come on, come on!"

A cheer resounded through the hall, and when the flowers looked up, it turned out to be the king himself shouting. The muscular man, with his short, oiled beard, sat on a pillow studded with tassels of gold thread, and was dressed in sumptuous clothes, from a gold-winged helmet to silver-threaded slippers. He wears a ring on each finger and several on both ears. His handsome, fierce eyes were staring straight at Flor, expecting to carry out the order immediately.

Flower found himself awakened from his previous restlessness and suddenly felt fear. That's not what should happen. He should stand behind the women, they dance first, and then he dances again. But later, not now. He took a few uncertain steps to the middle of the room, but luckily he remembered to look down instead of looking at all the free people, which was much easier.

Flower managed to get where he was supposed to be standing without tripping, although people snickered and said to each other, "Should I believe it was a boy?" and "Where did they find such a timid little rabbit?" He stood with his arms hanging at his sides, his head bowed, and he looked like a slave. New Flowe

It can be done.

"Alsafir, tell us about our little dancers." The king said. There was amusement in his voice, but no contempt.

"As my master wishes." One of the people sitting next to the king said that Xiaohua could not hear him. He didn't dare to look up either, because he knew what would happen. The man's voice sounded stiff and flat, like ice outside. "My father's guest, our amusement. Tell us your name, kid. ”

Without raising her head, Hua'er replied, "Hua'er, master." Hearing this, the crowd laughed and laughed, thinking it was a joke. He clenched his fists, a wave of shame welling up in his heart.

The king smiled and said, "This is his name before we took him." It fits, so we kept it and made him a dancer. A boy named Flower! He's such a cute little thing, isn't he? It's like a girl!" The crowd burst into laughter again.

When the crowd had quieted down a little, the cold-voiced man beside the king asked, "Whose son are you?"

Hua hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to answer. And he said, Master, this is no one else's son. Just a slave. ”

"You've not always been a slave, have you, though?"

"No, master."

"Whose son were you before?"

Hua hesitated again. Should he boast? He chose to oppose and simply said: "I am the son of Andlocles, the son of Palamonos of Dikaya, the master." In glory. ”

Vicious tension filled the room, and the crowd gasped. Flower felt their gaze burn on his bare back, and behind it all there was only a hint of Daddy's anger, just enough to let him know that Daddy was in the room.

Newflower mustered all the courage to not look up to find the source of the anger. He wanted to see his father so much that his throat was hot and his eyes were full of tears, but he didn't dare to wipe them away with his hands. The slave leader warned him not to look at his father and not to talk to him, so he couldn't look. Not now, everybody is watching. His heart was pounding in his chest, enough to make him feel like he was going to die. He tried to keep his eyes open and blinked, hoping they would dry. They don't.

However, Altfer saved him, saying: "Take a good look at him. Notice anything strange? Something that might not be suitable?"

No one spoke, but a few shifted their focus and muttered in affirmation.

"What could it be?" Maybe it's a muscle problem. Smart, stand up and bend us down. ”

Flower heard movement not far to the king's right, across the wall from which he had entered. After a moment of silence, several people agreed and commented on his scar.

Arsar, with a cold voice, said, "Now it's your turn, Flower." Your flex. Let's see if you have your father's muscles. ”

Without raising his head, Flower nodded, raised his arms, and twisted his muscles as best he could, even his chest, abdomen, and legs. The crowd erupted in laughter, and the flames of shame grew higher and higher. He wants to be a "new flower", but it is getting harder and harder to stop feeling like an "old flower".

The king said, "Do what my prince tells you to do!" Why don't you bend down?" The crowd laughed again, this time louder, probably because they had to.

Hua obediently bent even tighter, gritted her teeth, and curled her toes. He exerted all his strength.

When the prince spoke again, the laughter of the crowd died down. "It's muscles. Narrow shoulders. They don't look like each other at all. I couldn't believe this little thing was the man's son. Leave it alone with its white ears and white tail. Despite the joke, there was no hint of a smile in his voice. The crowd giggled. Even the king was snickering. The man went on to say, "Friends, I do think our new slave Smark is cuckolded."

Hearing this, the room burst into laughter, as if a hundred trees had fallen at once. Their plates and cups jingled. They clapped their hands and stomped their feet. In all this there is an atmosphere of malice and mockery that has not been there until now. They were trying to humiliate Dad, and he knew it was the flower's fault. He'd never heard of a cuckold before, but he knew what that meant: people. Flower had never realized before that Androcles must have lowered his status in order to save him.

The flower's shame grew, and soon overwhelmed him, obscuring all his thoughts. This incident burned his determination and confidence. After all, presbyopia is the real flower. He doesn't deserve the love of Andrx, Mom, and Pepper. How could he feel that he was?

No, no. He can do that. New Flowe

It is still possible to do so. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, trying to cheer himself up. In order to prevent the death of "Little Flower" on the spot.

When the laughter had largely subsided, the king laughed and said, "Altfel, if you point out these things, the little stain on our side may not be so obedient. Who will save his wife's lover's child? Let's not say anything. He probably didn't notice that the child wasn't his. He paused, made everyone laugh, and then said, "Besides, I told the little rabbit to come out and dance, and I didn't see it dance."

Altfer's voice was as dull, flat, and stiff as ever, and he said, "Pardon me, merciful king. I have no intention of delaying your pleasure. Drummers, are you ready? Who are you? Good. Now dance, boy, don't slip in front of the king. Everybody is watching. ”

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