THE SECRET MEMORIES OF LORD MORIESSON By Andrej Koymasky © 2010 Written on July 27, 2002 Translated by the Author English text kindly revised by Brian
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"THE SECRET MEMORIES OF LORD MORIESSON" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
Chapter 4 - How I was betrayed, kidnapped, and became the page of a black king
In Accra I was feeling incredibly bored. My brother Charles, captain of Accra castle garrison, was then twenty-four years old and recently was officially engaged to marry the daughter of the English Governor of the colony. In reality we English had colonized only the coast, where we built some castles to defend above all the ports from which sailed the ships transporting the black slaves to our American colonies, which were increasingly needing manpower.
The only moments a little less boring were the parties. For the rest I was spending my time keeping Charles's the papers and documents in order, and to look at the endless training of the soldiers. The common soldiers were all black men and all the officers were English. Amongst them there was not even one who attracted my attention or who awakened my desire. The black men didn't attract me, physically. Even if at times they had pleasant bodies, in my opinion they didn't have agreeable features. And also amongst the white men none of them was attractive!
I had a black servant who took care of my things and rooms, a strong and serviceable man, but his face, scarified with ritual patterns, gave me a deep feeling of uneasiness each time I looked at him.
Until the day when my brother informed me that my servant had been found killed, he then told me to go at the slaves market to buy a new servant. I toured for a long time, until I noticed a young Asante, about nineteen years old, whose name was Edinkra that had been captured in the hinterland and brought to Accra to sell him at the slave market.
The Asante are a proud people of the hinterland with which we English had scarce and sporadic relations. This people had several kings, each with his own territory, but also amongst these kings there was a kind of hierarchy in three levels. The king was called Nana and the supreme king added to his name the suffix -hene. This is what Edinkra explained to me, who had learned some basic English and who taught me some terms in Twi, that is their language.
Edinkra was a pleasant boy, for the most part the handsomest of the black men I had seen up to that day, and this was the reason why I bought him. As it had been a long time since I had had any physical contact, and I was feeling a growing need for it, I started to feel some attraction towards him.
So one day, while Edinkra was cleaning my room, wearing just a kind of traditional short skirt of coloured fabric, I came up behind him, took him in my arms and let him feel my hard erection through our clothes. The boy stiffened for a moment, but then I felt him relaxing against me. He let out a light sigh and lightly rubbed his bottom against my groin, almost as if he wanted to better feel the state of my excitement. I then raised his short skirt in front and felt that the boy also had a conspicuous erection.
Excited, I untied his short skirt and, now totally naked, pushed him gently towards my bed. He had a beautiful body and a delightful bottom the colour of ebony. I made him bend forward, leaning his chest on my bed, and made him spread his legs. He understood and spread his small and firm buttocks with both his hands, so offering himself to me. I opened my tight breeches, freed my penis, already harder than granite, and pointed it at the nice dark hole offered to my sight. Edinkra pushed slightly backward, inviting me without words to penetrate him.
I seized him by his slender waist and pushed. I felt myself sinking inside him without difficulty and his hidden channel wrapped my rod with an intense and really agreeable warmth. My young servant emitted a low moan and pushed more against me, slightly tossing his pelvis. He clearly was not new to that kind of union. I hurled myself to the boarding and started to beat in him with a real gusto. He was contracting his bottom's muscles in rhythm, so increasing my pleasure.
For too much time I had not experienced those beautiful and strong sensations, so that I reached an intense orgasm too quickly, and emptied myself inside him, hammering him almost with violence. My entire bed, even though it was made of heavy, massive, sculpted wood, was jolting from the energy of my last thrusts. I let myself fall down on him, panting, folded like him at ninety degrees. For the first time I felt his musky scent, wild but intoxicating, and even though I found it strong and unusual, I liked it.
When I calmed down, I slipped out of him. Edinkra straightened up, turned towards me and I read a silent question in his eyes. I then gently brushed his smooth and well defined chest, and smiled to him.
"I liked you." I said him.
"Good, master." the boy said and smiled in his turn.
I noticed that his penis was still hard and straight. I asked myself what taste the penis of a black man would have and even more his seed. I therefore knelt in front of him and, without needing a second thought, started to give him pleasure with my mouth. Edinkra had a jolt, but then let himself go, leaning with his bottom against the edge of my bed, and let me do it. Soon his breath became heavy and fast, and he started to shudder, to tremble. I understood that the explosion of his pleasure was rapidly approaching.
In fact he soon started to spurt his thick and lukewarm cream in my mouth, while I was keeping its tip tightly between my lips. It had a taste not so different from that of the white men, possibly just more salty but not less agreeable.
When I parted from him and stood up, he quickly bent down to pick up his short skirt, and with it he cleaned my penis, handling it gently. He then put his skirt on again and resumed doing his work, as if nothing had happened.
In the following days it was enough if I said to my servant something like "undress", or "prepare yourself", or "I want you", that he readily went to assume his position, his chest leaning on my bed and silently offered himself to me. After having appeased my desire in him, like the first time, I crouched down to give him pleasure with my mouth, to then just exchanging a brief smile, and each of us resumed his businessÉ
The only difference was that now he carried, hanging on his short skirt, a small white cloth with which each time he gently and carefully cleaned my penis. That small square of white cloth became for me a kind of symbol of his total and I would say natural, availability to my desireÉ
It was the month of June of 1669, it was late evening and I had just finished my supper. My servant came near me and gave me one of his wide smiles.
"What's up, Edinkra?" I asked him.
"Master, come." he said.
"Where? To do what?" I asked him somewhat surprised for that unexpected invitation.
He gave me another of his smiles, "Come; beautiful thing, important surprise for master." he said, persuasive.
I noticed that his hand was almost caressing the small square of white cloth hanging from his short, polychromous skirt and thought that possibly his surprise concerned some agreeable variation of our sexual encounters. I therefore stood up and willingly followed him, feeling even a little aroused.
He guided me out of the fort enclosure, and went into the nearby thicket of trees and bushes. I was feeling curious, and looking around me, I followed him.
We advanced in the thicket just a few paces when all of a sudden jumped out from the dark some native warriors who flew on me and seized me. I tried to throw out a scream but from my back a powerful hand shut my mouth; I was uselessly wriggling. I was soon overcome, my hands and feet were tied, I was gagged, then they tied me to a pole almost as I were a hunting prey, hoisted the pole onto their shoulders and running, they went into the thick of the forest.
I had been kidnapped! I lost sight of Edinkra and hoped he could save himself and run back to give the alarm. Only later I came to know that in reality my servant had betrayed me and led me to that ambush.
They carried me to the river, loaded me in a pirogue and vigorously rowed up stream, giving themselves the rhythm of the rowing with a low, strong and rhythmic song. My wrists and ankles were aching, and I asked myself what they wanted to do with me. The fact they didn't kill or harm me, made me hope that it would be nothing terrible.
The men rowed all the night long, taking shifts, then during the following day they moored. I thought we arrived at our destination, but they left me in the boat. They came back with fruits and water, took away my gag and make me eat and drink, careless of my protestations and of my worried questions I was uttering, mixing English with that little of Twi I had learned from my servant.
Then they resumed rowing, always taking shifts, all during that day and the following night, making once in a while a stop to drink and eat, and to allow me to empty my bowelsÉ Always tightly tied and watched by sight. None of them, in spite of my insistence ever talked with me. When they were talking amongst themselves I could recognise some Twi words, therefore those black soldiers should be Asante like my servant.
Finally, on the afternoon of the third day, they took me out of the pirogue, tied me again to the pole and, hanging like a hunting trophy, transported me across a plain, until we were in sight of a wide village. The houses were built with light coloured clay and the roofs were covered with bunches of dry straw carefully aligned. I later discovered that this kind of building was really suited to that climate - when the sun outside intensively burned, inside one could enjoy an agreeable coolness.
We reached a group of huts bigger than the others and enclosed within walls, always made of clay, that gave to the ensemble the appearance of a set of circles skilfully connected. I later came to know that it was the royal residence of their supreme king. We were in the town that the Asante called Kumasi, that means "the tree lived", the capital city of that people.
They brought me inside the residence, where each door and each passage was watched by several sentinels, and where I could see walking several people richly dressed with sheets of cloth of several colours skilfully draped, and men with short skirts of various colours like that of my servant, while others wore only small loincloths. They were dignitaries, servants and slaves assigned to the king's residence.
After we passed through several barriers watched by the unfailing proud sentinels, I was deposited on the floor of a small hut, leaving me tied. An imposing man, with his clothing elegantly draped on him, came near me and looked at me for some time. He then gave a dry order in Twi, and I just understood the word "come here". After a few minutes one of the servants came running. The man talked to him so fast that I couldn't understand a single word. The servant crouched near me.
In a slow but sufficiently correct English, the servant said to me, "The chief of the pages of our king, that is Makola, says that he will now untie you, but that if you try to escape, he will punish you really hard."
How could I think to escape, with all those soldiers watching each corner of that complex labyrinth of huts? And even if I could get out of that complex, the travel had been long, I would not have known in which direction to go, I would have been lost.
I therefore answered, "Tell Makola that I will not try to escape."
The servant translated. He then told me that the chief of the pages ordered him to stay always near me to be my interpreter and to teach me their language.
I asked him, "Why did you kidnap me?"
"Because our Asantehene, Nana Anyoke-hene, heard about your great beauty and wanted to have a page with the white skin."
"I am an English citizen. My people will come and free me."
"Your tribe doesn't know that you are here, is quite far from here, they would never come to free you." the servant said.
"And what should I do, as a page?"
"Please our king in any way he desires," was the answer. "The pages are the personal servants of the king. Besides pleasing him in his bed, they have to wait on him for the meals, dress and undress him, wash his sacred body, massage him with the scented ointments and do for him anything he desires or needs or pleases him."
My interpreter and Twi teacher, whose name was Kweku, explained to me that their supreme king, the Asantehene, could neither marry nor lie down with a woman, that is he could not sire children, so that at his death nobody could claim his inheritance. At the death of the supreme king, one of the sons of the sister of one the other kings of the Asante people, each time one from a different family, would take his place. If by chance the supreme king sired a child, it had to be at once killed together with its mother and thus, whoever declared to be the deceased king's son to get a part of his kingdom, had to be killed.
Therefore, the Asantehene before the present one asked to have, for his pleasure, a harem made of the handsomest boys of his people. Each village had to choose a fifteen year old boy who would live in the king's harem as long as the king didn't send him back. When a page was sent back to his village, he would receive honours and respect in proportion of the number of years he served at the court. The village then had to send at once its most beautiful fifteen year old boy to become a page at the court of the king, in the place of the one sent back.
I therefore had been kidnapped because the king wanted in his harem also a white boy, as this would increase his prestige. In other words I was destined to become one of the kingsÉ concubines! This news shocked me very much and I felt a strong sense of rebellion.
Makola told me that I had to submit to that, as I didn't have any other choice. He then communicated to me that he would soon take me into the presence of the king; he explained to me how I had to bow, to move forward or backward in his presence, and other rules of behaviour. I answered him that I refused all that - I was an Englishman, a free man!
He laughed and answered me with what I later discovered to be a proverb, "If you are asked to be a king and you refuse, you cannot become a servant either!"
"I'm not offered to become a king, but a servant!" I answered, angrily.
Makola answered me with another proverb, "When one quotes a proverb to a stupid man, one has also to explain to him its meaning!" but he didn't explain to me the meaning of it. This could possibly mean he didn't judge me to be a stupid man.
I was finally brought into the presence of king Anyoke. The king lived in a wider hut than the others and, by their standard, it was sumptuously decorated with wood carvings, bronze bas reliefs, and a great number of gold objects. Anyoke was a really tall and powerful man, had a perfectly proportioned body, slender and long-limbed, and his muscles were well defined. If he weren't so black, he would make me think of a statue of a Greek hero as I saw reproduced in my books. In some aspects he was more beautiful than the Acteon on our temple of Diana.
The king was sitting on a leopard hide put on a stool of sculpted wood, he wore a short skirt and a mantle also made with leopard hide, bracelets on his wrists and ankles made of massive gold, and had a crown made with bird feathers and gold leaves. I had to acknowledge it, he had a proud expression on a really beautiful face. His eyes had a deep look and seemed to shine like precious gems, his teeth were of a pure white and perfect. Undoubtedly that man commanded respect.
In that wide hut at that moment there was only him, and with me came Makola, the chief of the pages, and Kweku, my interpreter.
The king looked at me from head to toe, with a pleased expression, and seemed not care about the fact that I didn't either prostrate or even bow at his presence. He nodded satisfied and threw an order that I understood even before Kweku translated it.
"Undress, get naked!"
"No!" I proudly answered.
Makola looked at me horrified, and Kweku seemed almost to contract out of fear.
Anyoke then threw an order, and from behind a curtain appeared four herculean servants. They seized me and in the twinkling of an eye they undressed me, in spite that I was trying to oppose them, then kept me on my feet in front of the king. Anyoke stood up from his throne and slowly turned around me carefully studying me. Then ordering it just with a light gesture, had his leopard mantle taken off his shoulders, had my elegant light green velvet jacket with silver decorations picked up from the floor, and took it. He tried to wear it. But his arms were too muscled to enter into the sleeves of my jacket, so he didn't succeed.
He then gave two sharp pulls so that he unstitched and took away the sleeves, threw them on the ground and wore the jacket. He could not close it in front as his chest was too powerful, so he left it opened. He smoothed it with his hands and made a satisfied smile. He then turned again around me, this time groping my body here and there, I thought he seemed a middleman at a cows' market - the cow was me.
He then ordered me to go on all fours on his mantle that was lying on the ground. I answered that I wouldn't even in a dream. The four demons at an order of the king forced me down into that position. Anyoke pulled off his short leopard hide skirt and I saw that between his legs he had a formidable tool. He asked something of Makola who hurriedly went to get a bowl and poured something on the king's hand. Anyoke passed it over his penis that was beginning to imperiously raise, seized me, and there, in front of the servants, of the chief of the pages and of the interpreter, penetrated me with a few strong pushes.
It was hurting, his penis was the biggest I ever saw and that ever penetrated me. I was about screaming, but with pride I shut my mouth and didn't utter the least sound, the least wail.
Anyoke pounded in me with virile energy, slowing down from time to time in order not to reach his orgasm too fast, then restarting with unchanged vigour. Never had a virile member filled me so much, never went down inside me so deepÉ and yet, the pain of the first wild penetration passed, I started to feel a dull pleasure, so that soon my penis hardened. Makola said something in a low voice. Anyoke passed a hand under my body until he reached my hard penis and laughed. I felt my temper flare up - he was aware that I was enjoying it, in spite of all.
When the king finally reached the peak of his pleasure, he unloaded inside me emitting a strong moan similar to a lion's roar. He then pulled out of me almost brusquely, gave a slap on my bottom and stood up. He ordered to take me away.
Naked as I was, I was brought into the pages lodging. They were about twenty youths of an age comprised between fifteen and twenty-five years. All were wearing a quite elaborate short skirt, and had over their shoulders a belt adorned with small, white shells and gold grains. They wore a read head-band around their temples. All of them looked at me with open curiosity. Some of them drew near me and touched my skin, almost intimidated.
I asked Makola, "Where is what remains of my clothes?"
The man answered, "The king ordered that you will stay naked, until you learn to stay in your place and behave."
I said to Kweku, "Tell them they all are crazy, and their king more than all the others, if they believe they can give orders to me, to an Englishman."
Kweku answered me, in an almost imploring tone, "I cannot translate these wordsÉ and it would not be good for you. Try to accept your new status, listen to my advice. A page has a good lifeÉ"
"Never!" I answered with all my pride and forceÉ but I felt that I was near bursting into tears.
After having me undergo more vigorous penetrations in the following days, each time making his servants keep me in position, I started to show some more submissiveness - I was tired of that situation. Also the other pages seemed to avoid any contact with me, only Kweku remained at my side and was continuing to teach me the Twi language.
Then one day, when the servants were no longer needed to make me assume the position, Makola told me that the king wanted to show me to his councillors, called odikro, that is the chiefs of his villages. Naked as I still was kept, he took me to the hut that I called the throne hall.
Anyoke was sitting on his big sculpted wooden stool covered with the leopard hide, was wearing his usual short skirt and my sleeveless jacket. In front of him, in a half circle, sitting on more or less elaborated stools, there were the odikros.
"Here is my white page." the king said in a proud tone.
The odikros threw high exclamation of amazement, of appreciation and of praise to their king for having such a peculiar page in his harem.
"Kneel and give me pleasure with your mouth," Anyoke ordered me raising his short skirt in front and showing his already half hardened rod. "Show my councillors how good you are at it."
I felt my temper flaring up and had a rebellious impulse, but controlled myself and said, in a begging tone, "Please, don't make me do this in front of all these menÉ"
The odikros murmured in a scandalised tone - I dared to talk directly to the king! I dared to discuss his order! The king assumed a hard and despising expression, took a kind of long massive gold knife that was leaning against the wall near his seat and menacingly brandished it.
"Down!" he ordered.
I knelt in front of him, who spread his legs and looked straight in my eye - in his look was dancing a wild fire.
"Suck!" he said with a voice that was sharper than the precious knife he still had in his hand.
I bent forward, took in my hands his big and long tool and, resigned, started to give him pleasure.
While I was carrying on my duty, Anyoke went on discussing with his councillors the state affairs. At times he signalled me with a hand to stop for a while then, always going on to discuss with his councillors, with another gesture made me understand to resume giving him pleasure.
After some time I heard Anyoke saying something to one of his dignitaries, something that in spite of my still approximate knowledge of Twi, I understood what it meant, "Yes, my brave and faithful Bediako, you are right. And as a sign of my appreciation, come, and take advantage of the nice soft bottom of my white page."
"Thank you, Nana Anyoke-hene, with a real pleasure." a voice answered him.
One of the men stood up, knelt behind me, moved aside the cloth that he had draped around him and, without any gentleness and with his great gusto, penetrated me while I was going on to suck the rod of his king.
In the most total silence, broken only once in a while by whispers and low giggles of the other councillors, the king and his councillor used me at their pleasure. The king was holding me by my hair, pulling me against his groin each time the man at my back was pulling out.
When both the men got their satisfaction in me, I was ordered to go back to the pages lodgings.
I was feeling totally humiliated. I then called Makola and told him I would try to do my duty as a page in the best of ways, and asked him if he would be so kind to allow me to wear some clothes. Makola gave me clothes like those of the other pages, and gave me also a belt to wear on my shoulder.
"Our Nana Anyoke-hene, in his goodness and generosity, ordered me to put seven shells and a golden grain on your belt for your past services, in spite of your disrespectful behaviour in the past days. When he calls you again, remember to express to him your gratitude."
"Yes, I will do it." I answered, by then totally won, completely tamed.
From that moment also the attitude of the other pages towards me changed. I was even given an Asante name. As I had been brought to the royal residence on the day that corresponds to our Thursday, I was called Yaw.
All the pages had really beautiful bodies, like polished ebony, made even more beautiful thanks to the frequent massages given with scented ointments, but their faces didn't appeal to me too much. Among them though, there was a page with a face at least as beautiful as that of their king, although with more delicate features. He was seventeen years old, a page of the king for two years, and his name was Kodwo, as he was born on Monday. At times the Asante give to their children a name according to the day they were born.
Kodwo was the kindest of all the pages towards me, and soon I got the clear impression he was discretely but assiduously courting me. When we had our meals, he always chose for me the tenderest pieces of meat, the best food, and the tastier morsels. He always made me find my sleeping mat clean and tidy. And he spent much of his free time talking with me.
As I had noticed how the pages, quite often, had sex between themselves without caring if the others saw, I decided I would accept the court of the handsome Kodwo. Therefore one night, when we were preparing to go to sleep, I asked him if he wanted to move his mat near mine.
He looked at me with bright eyes and accepted at once. When we laid down to sleep, I stretched out an arm and pulled him to me. He curled against me and started to caress my body. Yes, I really was in need for somebody who didn't just use me, but who gave me some human warmth. I caressed him in my turn.
Then I took his face in my hands and tried to kiss him.
Kodwo withdrew and asked me in a worried, or rather scared tone, "What are you doing, Yaw? Are you biting me? Why?"
I giggled, "No, Kodwo, we Englishmen also use our mouths when we make love." I explained him.
"Why do you do such a thing?"
"Because it is very pleasant. It is called kiss, in my language. Let me teach you, Kodwo, trust meÉ"
"YesÉ I trust you, YawÉ" he whispered.
So I taught him to kiss. At first he was awkward, clumsy, but he gradually learned to kiss and told me he liked it very much.
I was increasingly fond of Kodwo - he was a gentle, good and very sensual boy. I gradually taught him our way to make love, as he taught me some of their secrets to give pleasure to a man.
Kodwa came from Bonwire village, one of the villages that provided the king with the kind of cloth called kente, woven with several lively colours in geometrical and symbolic patterns - it was the kind of fabric used for the wide clothes worn by the dignitaries. Instead the precious cloth with which our short skirts were made, that was called adinkra, came from the village of Ntoso. Kodwo's father was one of the most famous weavers of the kente kind, and was the provider to the Asantehene.
Now that I had accepted to submit to my role, Anyoke at times wanted me near him also when he gave audience, or to wait at his meals. I so discovered that we pages were, in a sense, privileged, as we could talk directly to the king without needing an intermediary, as only the high dignitaries of the court were allowed to do. All the other people could never talk directly to the king, they had to talk to the okyeame, a personage who then repeated to the king in a more appropriate and elegant way what was said to him, and who then said in a more plain and concise way what the king ordered him to answer.
Another change due to my acceptation of my role was that now Anyoke, when he required my sexual services, took me into his private room, where he slept, and made me lie on his royal sleeping mat. I have to admit that I was now enjoying very much the long sessions of sex with the king. His body was splendid, and it was a real pleasure just touching it. Thanks to the advice of Makola and of some of the other pages, I learned what Anyoke liked best, so I was able to give him pleasure in an increasingly more adequate way.
King Anyoke liked to penetrate his pages. Kodwo liked only to be penetrated; he so compensated and completed my sexual life, as I always enjoyed both roles.
But in despite that I had adapted myself, having to remain in the harem of the king of the Asante was becoming increasingly burdensome to me. At times Kodwo could feel my sadness, and he tried to cheer me up either by making love with me, or distracting me with the narration of their traditions, or simply letting me give vent to my sadness and listening to me with sweet patience.
I think that if it were not for Kodwo that captivity, no matter how much it was a 'gilded cage' and not devoid of comfort, would have driven me crazy.
One day in one of the inner yards of the royal residence, I saw my former servant Edinkra. I reached him with a jump and seized him. The boy hadn't noticed me, so when he recognised me, he had a start. I think that if he weren't a black man he would have turned white like a sheet, anyway his face changed to a greyish shade and his eyes had a scared expression.
"Why did you betray me, Edinkra?" I asked him, frowning, with hardness.
"Leave me, leave me, I pray you." he begged me starting to tremble.
"No. You have first to explain to me why you did it. Didn't I treat you well always, when you were in my service?"
Edinkra was trembling more and more, "I was kidnapped and sold as a slave. One day a soldier of our Asantehene recognised me, as my family lived in his same village, in Ahwiaa, where my father was one of the most renowned sculptors. The soldier asked me what I was doing so far from my village, then who was my master, so I told him about you. I then asked him to help me to run away and to go back to my village. He then told me that our Asantehene wanted a white page in his harem, that he was there with other soldiers exactly for that mission, and that if I helped him to kidnap you, they would take me back to my village as a free manÉ Forgive me, but it was my freedom against yoursÉ"
"And now, why are you here in the residence of the king?"
"I didn't want to come, as I feared to meet you and feared your wrathÉ But my father ordered me to come, as I had to bring to our Asantehene a sculpture he made at the order of our odikro, and I could not refuse. I hoped to be able to avoid meeting youÉ"
"Did you want to take your revenge because I fucked you in the arse?" I then asked him.
"No, I liked itÉ I liked very much how you took your pleasure in me, and then how you gave me pleasure. I never thought about revenge, I swear. Before I was kidnapped and taken away from my village, then sold as a slave, the son of the chief of our village, of our odikro, often took me, but he never gave me pleasure in return as you did."
"So, then, Edinkra, you like being penetrated. I was not wrong." I said to him with a sly smile, as I was starting to be somewhat placated by his words and his tone.
As a real Asante, Edinkra answered me with a proverb (it seems that they have one for any situation), "You know how it isÉ The wood already touched by the fire is easily lit againÉ" and he threw me one of his smiles that so much conquered me when he was in my service.
I let him go - what else could I do anyway, at that point?
But that unforeseen encounter recalled vividly to my memory my life in Accra, nostalgia seized me again and I fell into a state of melancholy. Thus, a few days later, I decided I had to try all I could in the hope to convince the king to let me leave, now that he had satisfied his desire and his pleasure by having a white boy amongst his pages.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 5
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