Chapter 420: The Firstborn
Somewhere in Regalith, Izara sat stiffly in her chair, her arms crossed as she watched the performance unfolding before her. The club was dimly lit, with flashes of colored lights sweeping over the stage where men twisted and danced in rhythmic motions. They wore nothing but tight G-string pants that barely covered anything, their sweat-covered bodies glistening under the glow.
The audience—mostly noblewomen and a few lingering men—cheered loudly, clapping their hands together as they threw money at the performers. Some women whistled and leaned forward eagerly, while others whispered amongst themselves, their eyes gleaming with excitement.
Izara, however, felt nothing but disgust.
Her nails dug into the fabric of her dress as she fought back the urge to look away.
Most people assumed that when it came to trafficking, women were the primary victims. The image of helpless girls being sold to greedy, depraved men was what came to mind. But here, in the royal halls of Regalith, the situation was different.
They didn’t traffic women.
They trafficked men.
The royal family had deemed women too "precious" to be sold. Instead, they built an empire off selling young men, boys barely in their twenties, parading them in front of noblewomen who saw them as little more than playthings.
At first, Izara had tried to stop it. She had gone to her parents, pleaded with them, tried to convince them that this was wrong. But they had only laughed, dismissing her concerns as childish.
"This is tradition," her mother had said, sipping her wine with amusement. "You don’t understand how the world works, Izara. Women have always been controlled. Isn’t it time we had a little fun?"
That had been years ago.
Now, Izara had stopped trying to reason with them.