Ephemeral Affairs [MXM]

A Young Master

Inside the textile shop, the merchant and his wife are bootlicking this one customer.

"We have the best linens you can't find anywhere else," the merchant declares. "Take a look at this one, it's silk from Huca."

Then the customer notices me, "Why don't you help that lady first?"

"Ah," the wife breaks the awkwardness. "I'll help her. My husband will show you around."

She walks to me with a sour expression, "Why are you here?"

"Sorry to disturb you. I finished the project early," I hand her my finished embroidery work.

"Let's see what I can do," the wife clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes angrily.

I couldn't help but suck in my lips and fidget my fingers behind my back.

She spreads my work across a table and examines every stitch I made.

My heart beats quickly because I know I was rushing to get this done today.

The customer is a young man, probably just a bit younger than Nillin, with dusty brown hair and dark eyes. His visage is clear and slim with a smile that would woe any girl's heart in the split of a second.

He catches my not so secret glazes and walks to us. He glides his hands about my product like he's seducing a holy virgin maiden.

"Did you made this?" He smiles charmingly.

The wife answers, "Yes. She made this with her own hands. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes. It is beautiful," he answers her while staring a hole through me. "How much for it? I'll pay anything."

"Ah!" The merchant and his wife try to hold in their joy. "It'll be thirty silver pieces or thirty Nuons."

His servant beside him sighs and gives the merchant and his wife thirty Nuons.

The merchant and his wife takes the product to the back to package it, but they're just counting and making sure the thirty Nuons are real.

"Thank you for the purchase," I lower my head knowing that he is paying too much for my sloppy work.

He reaches for my chin but I quickly thwart his advances by placing my marriage ring in front of me.

"A married lady?" He places a finger on his bottom lips.

"An emerald ring of that expense... It's too expensive for a mistress and yet who would allow the legitimate wife work for a lowly textile merchant?"

I look at the servant for help because I sure at least he should know proper manners.

"Perhaps an escapee of a majestic harem of sort?" He snarky comments.

Anger boils inside of me, but I know I shouldn't give the merchant and his wife a hard time since I'm depending on them to put food on the table. So I'm trying to put money where my mouth is. Is that how the saying goes?

"My husband died in the last revolution, the Ascension of King Nillin," I lie.

"Such a young widow," he tries to charm me. "Let me comfort you in 'my' harem."

He gestures for me to jump into his embrace, but I avert my eyes, "Thank you, but I cannot. Please forgive me."

"And why not? I am handsome. I am rich. I am charming. What am I missing?" He takes my refusal as an insult.

"There's nothing wrong with you, my good sir. I have to take care of my children and grandparents, I can—"

"Come to me. I'll take care of them and 'you'!" He snatches my wrist.

Goosebumps appear all over me along with a chill down my spine.

This man is obsessed!

"Here's your package. Thank you for waiting Young Master," the merchant places the package onto the table while awkwardly staring at our hands.

I tear the Young Master's hand off my wrist, "I would like to be paid today as well."

"Oh," the merchant's brows rise while making an annoyed pursed lips. "Go to the back. My wife will pay you and give you your next project."

"Thank you," I give them a small bow before leaving for the back.

It's disgusting how he fetishized me for my skin color. Harem? It's better to not get involved.

When I get to the back, the wife rolls her eyes, "This is all I'm giving you, and here is your next project."

She hands me three of the thirty Nuons and a roll of red linen with many shades of red and gold threads.

"That's for a my daughter's wedding when she marries the Young Master in three months just before the New Year," she sighs like a satisfied mother.

I unroll the fabric to see how much I'll be doing, which is almost five meters long and three meters wide, and the paper design—it has a lot of Rocco.

"I can't finish this before your daughter's wedding," I tell her.

She wiggles her index finger at me, "If you did that in three weeks, you can do this in six. Afterwards, I need to send it to my sister to cut and make the wedding dress. She needs the other six weeks."

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath.

"You can't do it?" The wife licks her upper lip and bite down on her lower one, "Other than this, I don't have any project for you to do; so it's okay, I'll just find someone else."

"No, I can do it," I roll the red fabric back up and hide the design back inside the bag with the threads.

"Then I'll be leaving," I say before getting out of the back room. "I'll see you in six weeks."

"See you in six weeks!" She says cheerfully.

Once I'm back to the shop, the Young Master converses joyfully with the merchant.

"So you're telling me, she lives in that cottage at the edge of town?" The Young Master lowers his brows in a serious manner.

"Yes, Young Master; and she's a widow with only one child. Her body is still very tight and meaty," the merchant adds.

"But may I suggest not adding her into your Harem? My daughter c—"

"We're both men. You understand my thirst for everything don't you, future father-in-law?" The Young Master replies smugly.

Was I once also as disgusting?

Am I just a collectible item now? I shake them off my mind and simply get out of the place.

Instead of turning home, I walk my way to the other shops in the area.

I bought the other necessities and oil, so all that's left is flour, but I'm low on money already.

To the shopkeeper of Mill House, I bargain, "Could you lower the price for me?"

"Lower the price for you?" One of his brow rises and it looks like his jaw also snapped.

"Please?"

"If I lower the price for you, then I'll have to lower the price for everyone! I won't have anything to eat!" He shouts at me.

I breathe deeply, "Then I'll just buy ten kilograms. It's a Nuon right?"

"No. The price has risen since the double earthquakes. It's five Nuons now," he doesn't seem too pleased with me.

"How about three kilograms?"

"Sure, I'll make that a Nuons for you," he shrugs.

I feel like something on my shoulders have lifted.

"Old man. Make that ten kilograms. I'll pay for her instead," the Young Master from before slides his arms around my waist and places his chin on my shoulder.