- Edited
It is a part of the story, I have been working on. I would like to know what your think about this. Thought this is a rough draft and might have some mistakes. I wanted to know what you guys think?
"What if I got caught?" Arhan said. He stared at the man in the mirror and found a stranger looking back at him. He nervously into the white silk shirt. The maroon doublet bit into his shoulder and would chafe his shoulders whenever he tried to move. "It's too tight. I am telling you--"
"Nonsense." Freda barked at him. "Stand still and stop fidgeting. Have you ever seen a blessed fidget? Stand tall, Chest out and show your charming smile." Her hand ran through his hair. Finding them a little dry she dabbed her fingers with oil and gingerly ruffled his hairs. "No excuses, we have been over this again and again. It's time. you are ready."
"But, I am not a blesed."
"Nonsense, you are more Blesed then you know." She pulled his face towards her. "Arhan... I have lived my whole life taking care of their children. I know them more then you could imagine. They live and breath like us."
"but... I don't have powers. I can't touch the stones." Freda gave her a look and Arhan cursed himself. Just a few days ago he had come rushing to her, gloating about how he had created a solution which is like a second skin. He held mana stone in his hand. Strutting around with pride. The skin had been a parlor trick for Arhan but the women before her cooked up another whole scheme. He could still remember how the hold crone studied her. Just thinking about it sends the shiver down his spine. He didn't want anything but to run, but he had been a fool to stay. People call him a charmer but they haven't met the devil that stood before her. Walking in a grey frock, fashioning a grey bun that stood proudly on her hand. Be it her amiable face or slightly hunched nose. She was an average maid, working in the states of lords and wealthy people. Arhan had been fooled by the looks, under that fading body burned a great desire. She wove a dream with her words and he a fool to have fallen for it. Arhan shook his head and let out a long depressing sigh.
"Why are you shaking and sighing like a woman waiting for his man." Freda smacked the back of his head. "Barking and Bragging about your exploits you were. What happened to that boy? All I see is a bitch standing before me."
Arhan raised an eyebrow at that. He couldn't ever imagine that he would be called a bitch by a woman who had one foot in the grave. "Are we cursing now?"
"Fuck this up that I would gladly shove a pole up your ass. Now stopping bitching..." She grabbed his balls.
Arhan wanted to jump in horror, but the tightness around his crotch made him think otherwise. "What are you doing?" Arhan screamed in a high pitched voice.
"Checking if you still have the balls you brag about." She tightly gripped his balls. "Now tell me what you are and what you are going to do?"
"let go... Ahh" Arhan stood on the balls of his feet. "I am the third son of Malghani. I come from the northern plains came to start our family business here... Please let go... they will be. Oh, Gods NO! " Arahan breathed heavily but the old crone found no mercy in her.
"And?"
"I am here on a leisure trip. To see the eastern beauty and its culture and hope to find a lady that will make me happy."
"Not bad!" Freda finally let go. Arhan jumped back in fear, his hands against his crotch.
"You!" His face turned red as he stared at the women before her. As he saw her smelling her hand color drained from his face. "You can't do that. It's wrong. So wrong."
"Don't tell me about right or wrong boy. All I need is for you to know what you are here to do. Never forget that."
"Marry a blesed, I can pretend to be one. Walk around them, dance around them in circles. Entertain them. But everything needs to have a base. Something to stand on. You want me to a son of some high born for the north. Nobility comes from money. The total sum my riches are confined to the limit of my wardrobe."
"and here I thought you were all talk. So something works in that thick skull of yours." She gently smiled.
"I am serious here."
"So am I"
"Stop playing games."
"Alright! Alright!. I have raised three generations of the buets. I know everything about them. Being a governess has its own benefits and people tend to ignore you when you reach the age I have, dear boy. So when I was working I heard something interesting. Ismael Buet, youngest of the buets has been recently gifted a mana mine. He has been made in charge of the operation. Worried sick that boy. Afraid he isn't capable enough. Awfully like someone, I know"
"You can't resist. Can't you." Arhan face burned red with embarrassment.
"I have enough money you stay at the lavish establishments for a month or two. That is the time you would get to make a friend out of him. I will nudge him towards you for a moment or two. The boy trusts me and I tend to keep it that way. Don't be short-sighted and try to do him over. Or better do me over. I have lived long enough to get the feel of people and I have a feeling about you. Don't make me regret that. Or your balls will be the least of your
worries."
Arhan felt his hackles raise. Here it was again the fear. He wanted to run. But the allure was too much. He would never be able to get a chance like this again. He had to take it and that damn crone knew that he did. He felt like a puppet he hated that feeling. He couldn't help but wonder why women like this worked as a governance.
"Why me? Don't tell me its the fake skin or the wits. Seriously, If I have to do this I want to know. Why me?"
Freda stared at Arhan, silence filled the void between them. Her gaze weighed down on him. "...It's not you boy. It's me."
