“I'm teaching you how to be a good for someone – when I decide to give you away,” Sovele started, gaze cutting to Basren in warning. “Don't mistake my actions. Such a notion is dangerous, and you know it.” It was one thing for Sovele to entertain the thought of such things, another for Basren to get ideas of his own and speak openly of them, regardless of if he was only joking. Of course, Sovele couldn't stand the thought of Basren going to anyone else, and it was a point of contention between him and his wife. If she thought she could get away with it, she would send him out of the kingdom.<br/><br/>“Your blood isn't right for it, regardless. Your father saw to that,” Sovele bit, knowing that was a prime reason not to – regardless of what he wanted to do. Basren, for as lovely as he was, was not fit for a King. Sovele swatted Basren's hand away from him, giving him a shove back against the table, his movements mirroring his irritation and sudden impatience. Basren was balanced over his lap and against the dinner table, Sovele guiding himself into his charge with purpose. It was always more about his own needs than Basren's, but the young man knew better than complain. Mostly, he knew to remain enthusiastic, and to gain what he could from the encounter.<br/><br/>“You<i>will</i>always serve me, Basren. In one way or another, your life has always been mine since they day that I saved you. It doesn't matter what path I set you on.” His words embodied the possessiveness he felt over Basren, often contradicting himself. His hips certainly betrayed his initial words about teaching Basren to be good for anyone but him, and those thoughts slipped away as he enjoyed the sort of thing his wife could never give him. When his spark of annoyance was forgotten, he pulled Basren back to him, against his chest where he sought out his mouth, feeling him open to his prodding tongue. His hands were careful not to grasp anywhere too hard that would be visible, but it was not out of care.<br/><br/>When he tired of the thrusting, he had Basren ride him until he was finished. He didn't care if Basren found release, just so long as he took care not to make a mess. He enjoyed touching Basren, his hands often wandering, but they had no real goal other than to satisfy his own hunger if even Basren did find them enjoyable at times. If frustration set in, those hands could just as soon bring pain to areas that went unseen in day to day life, but luckily Sovele's good mood, though teetered precariously at one point, mostly remained throughout.<br/><br/>Thoughts would come to him during his release of putting Basren to more proper use, even if they were not meant for reality. Basren wasn't capable yet, not without more guidance, something Sovele was too tempted to teach him. Afterwords, they could return to their meal after cleaning themselves up of any incriminating evidence.<br/><br/>“Someone will be arriving in the next few days. From the Langlais household. Their son has been heavy in his studies for many years, and so I haven't seen him in years. He's due to inherit as their only son, and I'd like to know him better before allowing such a thing to happen. You might tell me what you think of him. I hear he grows fanciful things just as you do.” From what little Sovele could remember of the Langlais son, he was a pudge of a boy, with mottled skin and light brown hair. The sort of companionship that was safe for Basren to keep, given that he posed no threat in Sovele's opinion. Little did he know just how much the Langlais boy had changed.<br/><br/>“He would be suited to your company more so than someone like Matthias.” It was not uncommon that Sovele made hints as to who Basren should spend his time with. Hints that could turn dangerous if not properly heeded.