Zane shivered.
The sharp sting of the whip on his back was overpowered by the words of the man—they cut sharper.
Zane froze on his spot and his eyes surveyed the surroundings in a way a kitten does in a jungle.
No feet stopped for him and no eyes turned to him. He wasn't worth any attention. And a part of him felt relief that no one watched him like this.
But the man with the whip wasn't patient.
Seeing Zane not moving, he bellowed in his tyrant voice:
"I said clean my baton with your mouth!"
SNAP!
He unleashed the whip on Zane's back once more and this time, it caught attention.
The bite of the whip and the eyes of the commoners and some Halocrats made Zane regret raising his voice while talking with the fellow Gutterborn.
Their eyes told him that he wasn't worth any attention, but he definitely was worth a show.
He should have known Enforcers and Discipline Sentinels were roaming around. He should have known they like to play. He should have known they look for a chance to toy with anyone who didn't have the fortune of taking birth in the gilded trash bloodline.
Zane's hand trembled, holding the baton and the Enforcer gritted his teeth.
The whip was raised again and Zane closed his eyes.
Being still, he waited with a clenched jaw for the pain. It would come. He would surely be bestowed a whip again.
But the whip never landed.
He barely opened his eyes again, even hoping the Enforcer felt pity seeing his malnourished, spine visible, bent back under his tunic.
However, hope wasn't affordable for people like Zane.
"Ugh!"
His half open eyes went wide open. Air refused to make its way out of his lungs. His tongue turned to sand.
Zane understood why the whip didn't land.
It wasn't supposed to.
The whip wasn't raised for his back, it was raised to coil his throat.
The Enforcer held Zane's neck by the whip and forced the boy to look up.
Zane's wide eyes met the cold grey eyes of the man.
Despite the desperation to breathe again, Zane saw disgrace, anger, and joy in the Enforcer's eyes all because of him.
Zane related to that as his eyes had the same emotions as the Enforcer.
While the Enforcer thought Zane gawking at him was out of helplessness and a plea of mercy… Zane was just memorizing his face. Down to the last inch of hair on his beard and the bird shaped scar above his right eye.
I'll hate birds after this.
Breath refused to come out at its usual pace from Zane's mouth but after a while of show, the footsteps carried on walking.
Nothing new was being offered. Just another Filth being taught his place.
Murmurs turned to silence—something Zane was familiar with.
But the Enforcer didn't like the silence.
The whip was still around Zane's throat and the whip master couldn't wait anymore.
"If you don't do it yourself, I will make you do it."
The man held Zane's right hand, the hand holding the baton and with a gleam smile, he used force.
Zane's throat still being squeezed, he watched the cold dark metal coming towards his mouth.
He couldn't fight back as his scrawny hands didn't have the power to overpower the Enforcer.
The whip coiled tighter, opening Zane's mouth wide.
The baton reached inches away from his open mouth, he could already feel the taste.
Seeing the eyes of the Enforcer, Zane knew the man wouldn't just rest the baton above his tongue and take it out. He won't stop there. He would shove it deep in his throat until he saw his neck bubbling up from the inside.
Zane already struggled to breathe and if the baton followed the Enforcer's hand, he would die.
And the worst part? Only one person would cry for him, and Zane wanted that person to never have to.
Nevertheless, no help was coming… unlike the baton.
As the cold iron touched Zane's lips, the boy closed his eyes.
If death was inevitable, then he would not give it the pleasure of seeing him wailing.
The Enforcer laughed seeing the closed eyes.
"As if that will help you, rat!"
He tightened his grip on Zane's hand, a groan escaped but was swallowed instantly.
Zane's lip bled and with clenched fists…
"Open wide~"
He welcomed the Enforcer's toy inside his mo—
"Stop this nonsense."
A sharp voice entered Zane's ears. It came from close. Very close.
He opened his eyes and… wished he hadn't done that.
The golden hairs and the shining clothes stung his pupils, not to mention the sun was just above his head as well.
All the things Zane didn't like were near him at the moment.
The fragrance the fancy man carried, invaded his nose. And he swore it was his broken nose that made him like the smell.
Who is he?
Zane didn't know the man but he did know royalty. The man was someone who couldn't care less about people like Zane. Not a Halocrat, but not something lesser either. So why did he stop the Enforcer?
Zane's right hand was held by the Enforcer and the Enforcer's hand was held by the royal man.
He had stopped the baton before it could experience the warmth of Zane's mouth.
The Enforcer and the man locked eyes and this certainly managed to garner everyone's attention. Someone stepping in during a gutterborn-humiliating-ritual? No one wanted to miss the rare sight.
"Who are you?" The Enforcer growled, eyeing the man up and down. "I see no crest, sigil, symbol on you. You are not from here. Are you here to touch the Haloheart?"
"That has nothing to do with you, guard."
"It has everything to do with me, boy. You are obstructing me from my duty."
A glint passed the royal man's eyes.
"Your duty is to maintain safety."
He looked at the baton near Zane's face.
"Not imposing your fetishes."
The Enforcer's smile vanished.
Zane, on the other hand, felt dread as he wondered…
Since when did help arrive for free?