Hidden Mysteries

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

          The sun was high in the sky when Anya Thimes trudged her way home. She had never felt so humiliated in her life. All that name-calling and finger pointing had actually gotten to her, but she would be the last person to say so. She remained standing tall until she was out of sight of any person. Stopping in the middle of the dirt path, she counted her earnings for that day. Five coins. Anya was tempted to throw her small purse before she considered better. Never again would she attempt to pickpocket anyone while in something that stood out as much as a woman wearing pants. For how could she escape attention when it was centered on her?



          Anya sighed before opening the door to her house, taking only a step in before turning around to close and lock the door behind her.

          “I took the liberty of having your clothes washed and dried for you.” The tenor voice said.



          Her head nearly touched the ceiling as she jumped at the sound of his voice. “What-” She caught her breath. “Are you- doing here?” 



          “I believe I just explained myself, my dear. I was merely returning your clothing.”

 The blonde acquaintance smiled at her.

          “How long have you been here?” She asked, walking over to where he was seated at her kitchen table. How was it, she questioned herself, that he looked so… comfortable?



          “Just four hours or so.” He told her casually.



          Anya gaped at him. “Let me see if I understand you clearly. You have been in my house for the last- four- hours?!” She narrowed her eyes at the boy. “Why?”



          “Simple, I was making sure nothing was misplaced or ruined while they brought your new things in.” He smirked at her.



          “You have been in my house for- wait… Who is this ‘they’?” She asked slowly. 



          “The workers who brought all of these new things.” He gestured around him and Anya noticed for the first time that none of the furniture in the house was hers. 
Near the fireplace was a comfortable maroon armchair instead of a cushion and under that chair was a matching rug. The kitchen table was no longer a damaged piece of wood held up by boxes but a mahogany wooden table with two matching dining chairs. She saw that the oven was clean and that the shelf had been restocked with food. 



          “You did all of this? Why? You barely know me! And how could you have possibly paid for all of these things?” Anya stood glued where she was, eyes wide. 



          “That is not important right now, what I want to know is if you like it.” He stood up and went to stand in front of her, his eyes searching her face. “Do you? Because I can get something else for you.”

          He was too close. “There will be no need for that,” Anya said, shaking her head as she walked around the room, feeling the surfaces of the furniture. The mahogany was smooth and polished and the fabric of the armchair was soft and felt almost like satin in her fingers. She looked up at him from the other side of the table,whispering, “I love it.”



          “Good,” He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her to her room. “I also brought a wardrobe, a new mattress, sheets, and a bed.” He let go and Anya went and sat on it. It was highly comfortable. She walked over to the wardrobe and opened it; there were her dresses, clean and pressed, plus three new ones. 



          “What is this?” She asked, pulling one out and holding it in front of her. “You know my size?” 



          “I cleaned your other dresses, remember? Or rather, the laundry ladies did.” He chuckled. “I thought you could use some more clothes, so you did not have to wear... unseemly outfits.” He gestured to her trousers.



          “Oh… Thank you.” She said earnestly. She returned the dress to the wardrobe and walked out of the room, the man following her. “Can I know your name now? And would you like to stay for supper?” She asked, pulling some food off of the shelf. 



          His eyes widened. “Oh dear,” He run his hand through his hair “I am sorry, but I really must leave now…”



          “Wait, why must you…” However, the stranger was already out the door, leaving Anya without an appetite yet again. You are going to make yourself sick if you continue this habit of not eating. With a shrug, she returned the food to the shelf and went into her room, where she changed for the night and fell onto her new mattress.