The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the sprawling estate of the Mong Clan. Its high stone walls, adorned with creeping ivy and blooming jasmines, enclosed generations of history and prestige, but the air inside buzzed with secrets just as readily as it thrummed with the voices of servants. Among the laboring hands that kept the Mong household running, one figure stood out— the young maid named Bhato.
At just 19, Bhato radiated a beauty that transcended the confines of her humble status as a servant in the Mong Clan. Her long, flowing black hair framed her heart-shaped face, cascading down her back in soft waves that shimmered like silk in the sunlight. Delicate strands often danced in the breeze, accentuating her graceful neck and the gentle curve of her jaw.
Her almond-shaped hazel eyes sparkled with a depth of emotion, capturing the light like precious gems. They were expressive, brimming with a mix of curiosity and a hint of longing, making those who caught her gaze feel as though they were peering into a world of dreams and unspoken stories. Thick, dark lashes framed her eyes, adding an allure that was impossible to ignore.
Bhato's skin possessed a warm, sun-kissed glow, hinting at her days spent outdoors— a testament to her hard work. Her cheeks, often flushed from the heat of toiling in the kitchen or the labor of daily chores, held a natural rosy hue that brought life to her features. A gentle smile often played on her lips, revealing a set of straight, white teeth that seemed to sparkle when she laughed, lighting up the room.
Though she wore practical servant attire— a simple, modest dress that fell just above her ankles— it was tailored to accentuate her slim but curvy figure, highlighting her youthful elegance. The fabric, though worn and faded, draped her as if it were enchanted, flowing gracefully as she moved.
Despite her beauty, it was her spirit that truly captivated those around her. Bhato embodied strength and resilience, rising above the expectations of her station with a quiet determination. Her kindness towards others, especially fellow servants, showed a depth of character that drew admiration, setting her apart in a household steeped in tradition and hierarchy.
Beneath the surface of her charming exterior, Bhato carried the weight of her aspirations and dreams. She had hopes of love, freedom, and a life beyond servitude—a spark that reminded her, and those fortunate enough to know her, that even a flower growing in the shadows could eventually reach for the sun.
Bhato moved like a whisper through the grand halls, her worn sandals softly tapping against the polished wooden floors. She had learned the art of silence early, mastering the ability to flit from room to room, unnoticed yet always observant. The intricately woven patterns of the clan's ancestral tapestries mesmerized her, but her heart was set elsewhere.
In the nearby kitchen, the scent of spiced stew wafted under her nose, mingling with the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread. But it wasn't the cooking that drew her there; it was Raok. He was a fellow servant, tasked with keeping the kitchen in order but most importantly, with igniting Bhato's heart like the embers in the fireplace.
Raok leaned over the pot, stirring intently. His dark hair fell across his brow, and a stray drop of sweat glistened at his temple. Bhato's breath hitched as she caught a glimpse of his strong arms—muscular yet agile, built from years of labor. He noticed her presence, a shy smile spreading across his face, which made her pulse quicken.
"Bhato, have you finished in the dining room?" he asked, his voice deep and warm like the scent of roasted chestnuts.
She nodded, her cheeks coloring slightly. "Yes, almost done. Just a few more chores before I can head back to my quarters."
"Join me for a break then," Raok suggested, motioning for her to sit at the small table nestled in the kitchen's corner. A distance few could perceive lay between them, one that separated their social ranks, yet it felt surmountable here, amongst the aroma of simmering spices and the flicker of candlelight.
As she took a seat, they spoke quietly about dreams, hopes of a life beyond the estate's confines, while outside, the sun surrendered to twilight. Bhato shared tales of her childhood, and his laughter echoed in the small space, a sound she cherished.
But a shadow loomed over their moment, one they could not dismiss. Sonrgi, the future head of the Mong Clan, strode into the kitchen with the confidence of someone who had been taught the weight of his name from a young age. The only son of the clan, he was everything a woman like Bhato could dream of— handsome, poised, and with eyes that seemed to hold galaxies. Yet, fortune and fate intertwined in complex webs, and she was merely a servant.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with an edge of annoyance, though his gaze lingered on Bhato. She felt her heart twist at the unwelcome attention, the charm that usually made others weak-kneed now like a shackle binding her to propriety.
Raok stood taller, his expression turning challenging. "Just taking a moment between chores. Is that a crime, my lord?"
Sonrgi's lips curled into a smirk, but there was an underlying tension in the air, a recognition of rivalry neither servant knew would unfold. "Focus on your duties, Raok," Sonrgi said, his cool authority suffocating with each syllable. "I need to speak with Bhato alone."
Conflicted, Bhato exchanged glances with Raok, whose earnest eyes begged her to stay. Yet, obedience tugged at her limbs, compelling her toward the heir.
"What do you want?" she asked, attempting to mask her unease with courage.
Sonrgi approached with an unsettling intensity, leaning close enough for her to catch a hint of his cologne—a blend of cedarwood and something sweet. "I've noticed you. You… you have a way of making even the dullest tasks seem lighter. I'm curious about you, Bhato."
Her heart raced, but she clenched her fists, willing herself to remain steadfast. "My job is to serve, my lord, nothing more."
He smirked, a glimmer of intrigue flaring in his eyes. "You don't have to serve only. There's more to life… to love."
Trapped between the son of the clan and the one who made her heart flutter, Bhato realized this was more than a simple choice; it was a test of bravery, of submission, and of desires concealed in the shadows of the Mong estate.
As night fell over the world outside, Bhato faced a storm of emotions battling within her. Behind her stood Raok, the man who understood her, and in front of her was Sonrgi, the man who represented everything she should not want.
In the game of hearts, she would have to choose wisely, for every secret held beneath the surface had the potential to change the course of their lives forever.
YOU ARE READING
Beneath the Tapestry
Historical FictionIn the opulent but stifling confines of the Mong Clan estate, 19-year-old Bhato serves as a maid, her days consumed by menial tasks that veil her aspirations for love and freedom. Though her outward beauty captivates those around her, it is her indo...