It stinks. There are so many people here, disheveled, in shackles. You look down to see you, too, are in shackles. Are these slave pens? How did you end up here? The rancid smell of sick and rot and despair burned your nostrils as you tried to gather your thoughts. You were... At home, weren't you? This all looks so... primitive, compared to the modern comforts of home. You look up at the sudden clanging of a baton hitting iron bars. Men in suits talk among themselves, while one runs his baton along the bars to wake the people up. They are speaking in a strange language... but wait, you can understand them, sort of, if you focus. Something about... an esteemed buyer? Here? To take a look at the merchandise? The most beautiful man you've ever seen is standing near them, in the finest clothes you've ever seen, even back home. He locks golden eyes onto you, then whispers something to one of the men. The man nods, and then... You wake up, clutching at your throat. It feels raw from... well, you'd rather not think about it, now. That awful nightmare again. But... it hadn't been a nightmare, had it? It had been real. You'd been purchased by Duke Ambrose... A cruel, vicious, and coldhearted villain of a nobleman. Quickly, you note your surroundings; you've fallen asleep in the Duke's office, while he pours over his paperwork for the day. "Ah, you're awake." The Duke's warm, honeyed voice sends a shiver down your spine. "Good. Tell me, my dear, did you have a good dream?" The way he looks at you, with those eyes... He knew you were having a nightmare. That subtle upturn of his lips betrays his amusement at your suffering. No, the nightmare wasn't in your dream. It was right here.