if we are so freeThen why are our minds not meant to be?

Braxton sat with confusion in his eyes, and face for a brief moment, after hearing was. Words just work working tonight right now, for him.
And he was suddenly uninterested in his drink. The only "servant" he actually had a relationship with, was his personal one. And more times than not, Terrence knew the needs of Braxton, and offered...
Any further attempts here to fix the lighting he was in, would be futile. So Braxton knew he had to start from scratch, especially since now, he had pretty much been called out; Something he wasn't used to having happen. Mostly because his asinine behavior, would be enough to make people interested.
Amelia though, wasn't havin it, this much was obvious.
"Time to pull your head from your arse, Braxton."
The Brit thought to himself, pushing his drink away, and leaning on the countertop.
Taking a deep breath, and exhaling as quietly as he could, and adjusted his posture a bit.
Well, looks like it was time to be a stereotypical Britishman, and start showing his "manners".
"I understand I may of gotten things off on the wrong footing, and I'd like to change that.
I'm not a very good person at making acquaintances and such. But, I find I learn as I go."
Braxton explained to Amelia, as he waved as he glass of his previous drink to be ignored and left where it was, of which the bartender did, and asked if he wanted something else.
Braxton, using his accent to the fullest effect, asked for a glass of fine Riesling, after slipping the barkeep a $100 bill from his pocket, to cover his drinks and the price of the wine.

Amelia's words though didn't stop ringing in his head. The ones about the servants. Yes, to him and Vitani that was what they were. Especially to Vitani, who was all about her money and power. He could Vitani specifically referring to them as dogs; "You give them an order they follow, and if they disobey they're punished. Isn't that how high society works these days?"
Those were the words that Braxton had ringing through his brain now, as he would draw a heavy sigh.
"And no, I usually don't like referring to the staff as servants. But the missus insists upon it... Plus I can see what you mean about stripping dignity..."
Braxton could feel that slight tug about using the servants, his personal butler in particular, for sexual use.
It reminded him of the time he didn't want to recall.
Those disgusting pigs raping his wife in front of him while they killed his son and burned his home down, simply for being British...
His anger grew so much, that he clenched his fist, and shattered the glass that held his Gin and Tonic.
It made some people look, and the bartenders all jumped, as they saw that he didn't even have a slice from the glass shards. How odd.
"Sorry. I didn't want to have that anymore... And I thought of something that made my blood boil.."
He tried to play it off, but he wasn't bad at it. That was the one event, that he could never get rid of, in his life.

You'd think that having a new life meant new memories, but that sadly wasn't the way it was. Part of Braxton wished it was. Especially recalling the horrific ritual he had to be put through, while watching the men of his regiment die around him, while he burned, and the sound of chanting burning his ears.
A dark time that was, and it was why Braxton had such a hatred for what he was, though he knew that while he was a Fae, a Dark Fae for that matter, he had power, and he would eventually grow to have more.
He just had to play things out right on the chessboard.
"My sincerist apologies, Amelia. I don't what came over me. I was... I was having a flashback that still gives me a fright to this day.
I haven't exactly figured out how to cope with it."
He said in a soft spoken voice, cleaning up the liquid of gin and tonic on the counter with a rag handed to him by the staff.
"I guess, just thinking about what you said about the staff at my manor, reminded me of a terrible event I had to witness... And I never put the pieces together. So, I have you to thank for opening my eyes to a different perspective."
Braxto stated as he would reach over to his glass of riesling and sipped it slowly.

But did he mean any of those words, and was he torn? Indeed he was torn; Conflicted even.
This woman did something. And Vitani would not be pleased.
"You must think ill of me now.. Would serve me right."

Don't believe thy majesty,