A Bride's Story

Chapter 48: Bathhouse

Karluk found respite from the day's tasks on a weathered bench beneath the sprawling branches of a tree. Focused on his craftsmanship, he diligently worked on a new horse's bit, determined to find a solution to Arakura's persistent gnawing. As he toiled, a companion sat beside him—Mr. Smith, the enigmatic British scholar. Engrossed in translating an ancient text into his native language, Mr. Smith sought Karluk's assistance with the intricacies of pronunciation.

Pointing to a word, Mr. Smith posed his query, "And this one?"

Karluk examined the unfamiliar script. "O... Oguzhan?" he ventured, pondering its meaning. "It sounds like a place name, but beyond that, I can't say for certain..."

"Ah, that will suffice. Your help in sounding it out is invaluable," Mr. Smith acknowledged, his eyes alight with fervor behind his glasses. "The evolution of writing over the years is a fascinating subject, wouldn't you agree?"

Karluk contemplated the question, recognizing the foreign scholar's unique perspective. Mr. Smith, despite his occasional cluelessness, carried an air of erudition that intrigued him. His presence added an exotic touch to their daily lives, an embodiment of the world beyond their horizons. It was no wonder that Karluk's father had welcomed him into their midst.

Though Mr. Smith was in his late twenties, the age difference held no weight in the young boy's mind. Accustomed to the company of adults and aware of his eventual responsibilities as his father's only son, Karluk had matured beyond his years. With Seleke's growing family, he had embraced his role as a caretaker, ensuring his niece's and nephews' well-being.

Perhaps it was this early maturity that eased Karluk's mind regarding his wife's age. Amira, in her own way, possessed a certain innocence and naivety, expected of someone unfamiliar with their culture. Some days he would even forget that she was his elder. 

Karluk patiently waited outside the bustling city's bathhouse, his thoughts drifting as time ebbed away. He and Mr. Smith had completed their cleansing rituals, yet Amira lingered inside, seemingly engrossed in the thoroughness of her ablutions. Impatience tinged his anticipation, wondering what could be occupying her for so long.

At last, the doors swung open, revealing Amira's figure adorned in scant garments. Her damp hair was concealed by a modest scarf, while her kaftan loosely clung to her form. Karluk's protective instincts flared as he instinctively moved closer, attempting to shield her from prying eyes.

"Amira," he called out softly, his voice laced with concern. "There are people nearby, so perhaps such attire might..."

Amira grasped the subtlety of his words. Her brow furrowed momentarily before a nod of understanding graced her features. "I see," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of innocence. With a swift retreat, she hurried back home, intent on rectifying her unintentional transgression.

Karluk couldn't fault Amira for her oversight. In her homeland, customs surrounding public attire held a more relaxed stance. It was his duty to guide her through the intricacies of their local traditions, shielding her from potential embarrassment and ensuring the harmony of their familial reputation.

Mr. Smith, ever the observant guest, caught the exchange and inquired, "Is something amiss?"

Karluk briefly considered sharing his concern but dismissed it with a shake of his head. "No, it's nothing," he murmured, their private affair remaining confined to their intimate circle.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the vibrant city of Khiva, a familiar voice pierced through the clamor, calling Karluk's attention. It was his jovial neighbor, Cagap, surrounded by an intrigued gathering of onlookers. Curiosity piqued, Karluk made his way towards the animated group, unsure of what awaited him.

"Karluk, m'boy! C'mon over!" Cagap beckoned, his booming voice carrying with it an air of excitement and admiration.

As Karluk drew near, Cagap's hand found its way to his back, delivering an encouraging pat. "Hey, Karluk! That was a splendid display the other day, lad!"

Turning towards the attentive audience, Cagap couldn't contain his enthusiasm. "Even with that blade-wielding ruffian coming at him, Karluk swiftly dispatched him and tossed him on the ear!"

Karluk, slightly taken aback, interjected, his modesty getting the better of him. "Well, 'tossed him on the ear' might be a bit exaggerated..."

Cagap waved off his modesty, his voice resolute. "Nonsense! That scoundrel plummeted to the ground! It was a sight to behold it was!"

As Karluk stood before the crowd, he could feel their collective gaze fixed upon him, their eyes filled with admiration and awe. Even the tiniest of children watched in wide-eyed wonder, their innocent mouths agape, forever captivated by tales of bravery. Karluk's felt his cheeks grow red.