Alaras wondered if he just kept walking down the hall if Basren would leave him be. He attempted it, thinking that he'd take the hint, but he proved more persistent than he'd anticipated. He grabbed hold of his sleeve, making an attempt to apologize. He wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, not most of it anyway.<br/><br/>Basren caught the servant before Alaras did, and he turned away, to face the wall.<br/><br/>“Why are you doing that?” Alaras questioned, irritation saturating his voice. He wanted to be left alone, and Basren was probably the last – well, second to last – person he wanted to be dealing with. Basren's grip tightened, pulling him along to where they could have this unwanted conversation in privacy. He didn't understand that Alaras just needed a day to recharge, and compose himself. He'd be fine in the morning, the socializing was just draining, especially given the circumstance.<br/><br/>Alaras was tense, crossing his arms over his chest, and he remained standing even though there were comfortable places to take a seat.<br/><br/>“Let you explain that you're sleeping with the King?” Alaras questioned, tone even, eyes narrowing. They were alone now, and he could speak more freely. He didn't care about the circumstances, not really, and he certainly didn't want details. He shook his head and clenched his eyes shut as Basren went on.<br/><br/>“Imagine learning all of this in one evening.” He hadn't even been aware he was apparently being set up for the boy, at least not until that meal. And the King, taking himself out of the way? “And what happens for me, if Sovele decides that he rather likes the<i>prior</i>arrangement he had with you?” He leaned in this time, so that he didn't have to raise his voice, but it wasn't the comfortable way he'd done so earlier. The King decided Alaras needed to be taken out instead would be counter productive to his plan of quietly gathering information. Basren, while it presented opportunity, might be too risky of an avenue.<br/><br/>Alaras stopped, looking to Basren's reaction to all of this. He looked quite miserable, actually, worried, and begging for forgiveness.<br/><br/>“It's not you I'm displeased with,” he spoke, frowning, letting out a little huff as guilt once again set in. Basren was nothing like Maes, and it was disheartening. “I don't want you to<i>serve</i>me at all.” The thought made his skin crawl, and then more realization.<br/><br/>He snatched Basren's wrist and pulled him farther into the dimly lit room, away from the doorway.<br/><br/>“Is that what was expected of you? To<i>serve</i>the King?” Alaras demanded, his tone serious. Had he been coerced, threatened? The King was rather open about his distaste for Maes, but he'd always been told Basren had been treated well. Maybe that wasn't it, not entirely, behind closed doors anyway. It was inappropriate, in Alaras' eyes, even now, given their difference in age. Sovele had no business touching the young man any more than he had his other children of similar age. It wouldn't have been right, even if Sovele wasn't an enemy. Maes would have never stood for it..<br/><br/>“<i>My god</i>,” Alaras muttered, scraping his hands over his face. The boy's body language, his aim to<i>please</i>, should have tipped him off earlier. Instead, he'd put blame on Basren too, most likely the same way the queen had. Somehow Alaras doubted Basren was experienced enough in seduction to be considered conniving. He didn't want to ask how long ago it had started, worried over the answer.