Plaything

I’ve been sold. That’s what he tells me. Sold as a rich man’s plaything to the highest bidder. I’m to be shipped to the other side of the world, where I’ll disappear without a trace. I’ve nobody coming after me, nobody who’ll even know I’ve gone. But I’m no plaything. I’ve already been rejected for sale once. Not fit for purpose. Too fiery, too uncouth. Two choices remain. Submit or perish. They’ve sent in the big guns, him. The dark sheep of the family, and the only man left who stands a chance