Gardenia of Blooming Desire

"You want this boy?" Dad asked with doubt. Aster, who had assured himself nodded once, which made his dad even more confused. "This boy is not a regular slave, Aster. He is for--"

"I want him," Aster said. He was sure since the moment their eyes met, he knew this one was for him. It was rare for Aster to be this assured, but he had a feeling that he'd lose something if they didn't buy this slave. Dad finally agreed to buy this boy, but with one requisite.

'You must never share your bed with him.'

That was the requisite whispered to his ear by his dad. Aster didn't understand what he meant by that. Of course, he wouldn't share his bed with a slave. They were dirty and might have dangerous diseases. Aster nod. That was an easy requisite.

Dad sighed but finally agreed to buy this slave for him. Aster followed his dad to approach the merchant whose name was quite hard to spell, at least for Aster. He was smoking with a weird, curved pipe on his left hand and holding a whip with his right hand. He had a long, groomed beard accompanied with a thick whisker that was quite intimidating. He also wore a small red hat with a tassel on top of it.

"Can I help you sir?" said the merchant. Aster realized that the merchant had a thick accent.

"How much is that boy?" dad asked while pointing at the boy. The merchant smirked as if he knew something.

"Good sir, I don't know that you need him to relieve your stress. Was your wife too sloppy? Or you just wanted a new thing?" the merchant asked. Aster found him to be rude, but his dad stayed calm.

"How much is that boy?"

"He is a new addition, my good sir. He is new and young. I would say seventy gold coin for him,"

'SEVENTY GOLD COIN?!' Aster's eyes widened. He could buy two very expensive horses with that. He looked at his dad, as he was afraid that his dad would never spend that much.

"How many times has he used?" dad asked firmly.

"Sir, he is pure. I wouldn't--"

"No, I know he wasn't pure anymore, I had one myself."

"Ah, you're a keen one," said the merchant, he looked disappointed. "I don't know how many times he was used before, but I can assure you he was clean. I checked it."

"You're licensed by the kingdom, right?"

"I am. This is my license," the merchant pulled out a scroll from his bag and then gave it to dad. Aster wanted to peek on that scroll, but his dad was very tall, it made him impossible to peek. Dad read it for a minute before he nodded and gave the scroll back to the merchant.

Dad stared at the boy who stole glances from time to time. He got caught glancing at us, he gulped and then cast his eyes down. "Forty gold for him," dad said. The Merchant looked displeased, but he raised it to fifty gold. Which dad finally agreed, the deal was sealed.

The merchant handed the license of the ownership and unlocked the cuffs on the boy's hand. "He is yours."

Aster approached the boy again, now with his dad pondering whether the slave cost was worth the price. They exchanged gaze for the second time, but this time, the boy smiled. Aster was bewildered for a moment because the boy's smile was very perplexing that it stunned him.

"So, this is the boy that cost me fifty gold coins," Dad said. He didn't look happy, but he promised Aster a gift.

The boy nodded, then he puts his head down again. Aster expected so, since his dad's appearance wasn't the kindest.

"Let's just buy some flowers for your mom and go home."

Aster walked beside his dad, while his new slave followed from behind. They bought some freesia and gardenia, his mother's favorite, and went back home with their horse carriage. The new slave sat beside their coachman. Aster glanced at his dad, before casting his eyes onto the scenery of the Storm Hill. Although he enjoyed the view, he wanted to express his gratitude toward his dad. Before he could say anything, dad called his name.

"Are you happy, Aster?" dad asked suddenly. If what he meant as happy was because he bought him a slave, then he would say yes. So, Aster nodded. Then it was silence again. Dad checked his pocket watch, before shouting at the whip to be faster.

Aster closed his eyes and mesmerized himself to the evening breeze that hit his golden-wavy hair. Their mansion was quite far from the city. Although, not far enough to be called a secluded area. It was close to the nearest village, with one hour's worth of travel by carriage. The mansion was located on the top of the storm hill, a hill whose area was owned by his dad. It was the wish of his mom to build a house on the top of the storm hill. The sun was always shining, showering every plant to grow fast and healthy. The rain was always enough to keep them watered, but not flooded. It was the perfect place for his mom.

As for Aster himself, he enjoyed it most of the time. He loved playing in the garden with his mom. He loved seeing his dad sharpening a knife or a blade himself. He enjoyed following Sir Douglass managing all the business and meeting for his dad. Even though, Sir Douglass always ended up scolding Aster for pestering on his work. He enjoyed chatting with the maids and butlers when they were not busy. He enjoyed it all.

However, he wouldn't say there was no drawback. He hated the silence of the mansion. The maids and butlers always kept their mouth shut, quietly doing their tasks, and then left to the pantry or backyard to talk with each other. They were acutely aware of their speech manner to him or his parents.

Aster couldn't just go to the nearby village and play with other kids or teen his age. He had an unknown illness that made him unable to stand the sun, both its ray and heat. He would get rashes that lasted for the whole day after he stayed under the sun for an hour without protection. Sometimes, when the rash was severe, his skin started burning and red blisters filled with blood would appear under his skin. He couldn't stand the heat, especially during summer, as he would feel nauseous if it was strong.

He was unable to go out from 8 in the morning up to dusk. He could, like today, walk under the heat of summer. However, he'd need to wear a hat, gloves, high boots, jacket, and applied a very thick lotion, which supposed to let him survive for a few hours before the rash appeared.

To think about it again, he looked funny from head to toe with his layers of protection. He looked out of place. Maybe that was why he refused to go out to the school.

There was time when he entered the school for a week when he was a kid, but his classmates were terrified when red blisters appeared underneath his skin. Then, his skin started oozing out blood. Aster should've blamed his dad after he forced him to enter the school at the beginning of summer.

After that, Aster never went to school. He was then, homeschooled with few tutors who visited the mansion during their schedule. He remembered tomorrow's schedule, Wednesday. Sir Douglass taught English Literature, as he had free time every Wednesday.

"Have you selected the preferred candidates from that village?" dad broke the silence, pointing at a village east from the carriage.

"Not yet, dad. Should we follow the schedule, it'd be around three days to do so," Aster replied. He sighed, even at the supposed weekend, his dad still found a way to talk about work.

There was a village near the mansion, whose villagers would usually sell their farm goods to his mansion before selling it to the market in the city. Aster did approach to them once, but they were no different than the servants, their mouth was filled with candy, their words were sweet and soft. But, Aster knew they didn't speak like that, he heard them talking to each other. They were crude, vulgar, but it looked like they had fun, unlike him.

"This. I entrust you with this, I suppose you could do the task well."

"Yes, dad," Aster replied to him lazily. He closed his eyes. With his eyes closed, his dad stopped yapping and he could ponder in his imagination about living in that village he visited few times.

Aster opened his eyes after the horse neighed. They had arrived at the mansion.

He lived inside this large estate since he was five years old. The mansion wasn't built from scratch. It was his dad who bought it from a bankrupt conglomerate. While his dad was always fond of changing and decorating, his mom loved the way the mansion looked at her first sight.

The mansion looked similar to that of an old castle, the wall was a pile of white stones stacked carefully with mortar between each gap. The roof was dark blue, with four towers on each corner of the mansion. The west tower was used for the watchers. Aster couldn't remember the name of the watchers, but there were four of them. Two would stay on the front tower, and the other two would watch on the back tower. They would sit on the top of the tower, then watching the surrounding area with binocular.

The back east tower was for his mom. The tower was directly facing the flower garden, where she would stay and stare for hours. She also knitted in the tower while watching the garden. She was keen on knitting, she often knitted shawl for Aster. He hated it, bright red shawl embroiled with white lily flowers as a motive, purple white-stripped sweater with a big heart in the middle of it, not to mention the infamous knitted gloves with 'Aster and mum' on it.

The front east tower was for Aster. It was Aster's wish to had the front tower as his room. The mansion was large, with many empty rooms that Aster thought unnecessary. He had explored every empty room in this mansion and wandered about the use of it. Since they never had a large number of staying guests. He counted seventeen empty rooms supposedly for guests, whilst including all rooms for his family, servants, and Sir Douglass'. He hated it, the hollowness of this mansion. He could scream for only an echo that would answer him.

He stepped out of the carriage with his dad. Anne, one of the maids greeted them on the front gate before telling them that dinner was ready and mom was waiting.

"Uh-- Excuse me…"

Just before Aster and his dad walked to the main hall, a hesitant voice interrupted them. The slave they bought looked scared.

Dad sighed, "Take care of his body, clean, and feed him. Present him tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

"Yes, Milord. Please excuse us."

Anne dragged the new slave, they walked from the side of the mansion, probably went to the worker's hut for him to stay. Aster glanced at the new slave before the maid dragged him. Their eyes met again for the third time today. He couldn't help but something entranced him after seeing those pair of deep, dark eyes.

Aster shook his head. He shouldn't be bewitched by that ridiculous thing. He would meet that slave again tomorrow, then.

'Then, what would I do?'

Aster went to silence. He never planned to that extent. He picked the slave out of instinct. As if he knew that was the only chance he could get him. He didn't even want a slave.

Aster shook his head once again. He straightened his posture and followed his dad to the main hall. It was useless to ponder about something trivial. That was what his dad always said.

The main hall was always bright, with four golden chandeliers hanging high up on the ceiling. The wide red carpet embroiled with golden silk covered the floor, the marble staircase with balcony at the center to greet guests during the party, and the golden embroiled crest of a camellia flower with two crossing swords beneath it hanging just above the balcony. Which was the crest of his mom's noble family.

"Welcome back, Milord, Lady Camille is waiting," Sir Douglass greeted dad in the main hall. He bowed his head. Dad just nodded and left Aster with Sir Douglass as he went to the family hall.

"Welcome back, Young Lord," Sir Douglass bowed his head to Aster. While Aster thought it was rude to ignore a greeting, he also thought his dad was a stern man that such trivial greeting was irrelevant. Aster also nodded and walked away, such act might raise his credibility in front of Sir Douglass. "Young Lord. It is rude to ignore a greeting. You ought to watch your mannerism, as I taught you since you were young."

Aster stopped, turned his head to Sir Douglass, and sneered, "Pardon my impertinence, Sir."

Aster walked faster as his mind grumbled. He never understood what made Sir Douglass a very strict man. If he let dad did such thing, why did Aster must follow all the rules and mannerisms? Sometimes being a noble was annoying. Aster climbed the wooden spiral staircase leading to his room.

The room he resided was quite large. It had no corner, as his room was inside the east tower. Although, it was mostly empty, with only a large bed in the middle, a huge wooden wardrobe, a desk for him to write, and a sofa directly facing the large window. There were a fireplace and a red rug that he used during winter. But the balcony was his favorite spot because it had roof to protect him from the sun and rain. He would sit for hours, while reading a book or just watching the hill at dusk. Otherwise, he had nothing else. He did not have a particular interest like his parents.

Aster sat on the sofa. There was a book on the sofa, the one he requested to the butler before he went with his dad to the market. It was The Eulogy of the Prince, written by his late granduncle before he passed away, a story of a prince on his journey of becoming the king. It was Sir Douglass' recommendation, but he thought it would be interesting to read the legacy of his bloodline.

Aster lit the candle in his desk and started reading the book to pass time and to ignore the trivial matter his brain kept sticking around.