A Lacking of good Sense or Judgement

I take a short moment to steel myself for what's to come. Then I open the door.

This appears to be something akin to a private lounge, with two rather comfortable-looking couches facing each other. A small table is placed right between them. The evening sun shining through the curtains gives the entire room an orange hue.

Stating the obvious about how gaudy everything in here looks may be redundant, but certainly not incorrect. This entire manor feels like a lesson in how not to spend one's wealth, at least in my opinion. Can't buy taste, I suppose...

"Jesha, where's Zareth at? He should be well aware I am not a person one should keep waiting..."

On each of the couches a finely dressed man can be found seated, engaged in conversations. One of them I know, of course. My tormentor of the past 2 months, Factor Jesha. The other, however, I do not.

He is of a rather large frame and has a beard longer than I have ever seen before, in both this world and the last. Its sheer length is truly astounding. Furthermore, it is inlaid with countless golden ornaments and jewellery of all different kinds.

If one was feeling poetic, his dark beard with these fancy differently coloured stones could be likened to a colourful night’s sky. That, in combination with his robes and headwear, makes him look quite a lot like how I'd imagine a sultan.

"I travel all the way to this little shithole, and now he dares to stand me up."

His booming, deep voice commands the entire room. He emanates an aura of authority, his will not being heeded most likely a foreign concept to him. He doesn't even look at who entered the room. Why would he? It is simply beneath him.

I go to the table to the side. On it, a few different things I spot. For one, the promised bottles, standing on a silver plate. There are a few pieces of cutlery as well. I pick up the chosen bottle and make my way to them.

Based on how Jesha acts towards the large man, he is clearly higher in rank. I'll fill his cup first.

"With every passing second I am more tempted to take you up on your stupid offer."

Again, without deigning to look at me, he holds his cup for me to fill it. Like a good servant, I make myself as invisible as possible while pouring.

"So you are interested in my proposition after all, Master Beltharion?"

I fill Jesha's cup as well. He gives me a little smile.

"That yet remains to be seen, Jesha, that yet remains to be seen..."

Placing the bottle back on the table, I am now supposed to serve the rings. How exactly did he imagine for me to do that? I can’t just very well throw them at the large man.

I'll just use the serving tray underneath the bottles. In a quick motion, I rearrange them to the side and place the small pouch in the dead centre of the tray.

My eyes, however, linger on the cutlery again. Among them I see a sharp knife. Sharper than any knife used for eating ever should be.

"Take it. Now."

I am unsure if Isha moves my hand for me or I do, but the knife finds itself inside my right sleeve all the same. Better to be safe than sorry...

Now, how to give this whole presentation a little theatrical flair?

"𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑟~"

I serve the pouch to the imposing man, all while keeping my head low. Shouldn't threaten his authority without reason.

He takes them from the plate and opens the bag above the table. The rings all drop down, scattering across its surface.

"Is that supposed to impress me?"

"No, Master Beltharion, of course not. I just wanted to lay bare the gross incompetence Zareth and his people are trying their hardest to hide."

Jesha is currently giving this man the kindest smile I've ever seen on his face. Usually when he smiles at me, I get the creeps. So I know, without a doubt, this is the most venomous and ingenuine smile this man can muster.

“As you will surely discover, none of your men were so foolish as to allow the emblem of their entire wealth and standing to be taken from their very hands. They would not be that careless, now would they?”

I only picked the easy targets, so he might actually be right with that assumption of his. Even if he's not, would that proud man admit his people are that foolish?

Jesha, you're quite a viper yourself...

"You should hold your tongue, if you wish to keep it, that is..."

And hold his tongue he does indeed, but that sickeningly sweet smile of his stays.

"Servant, come closer."

If I lose my head or any other body parts now because your stupid power play failed, I will haunt you forevermore. Jesha, mark my words!

I inch closer.

"Look at me; look me in the eyes."

I pull my eyes upward, away from his magnificent beard, up to his eyes. They are green, resembling a few of the ornamental jewels he wears.

"So you're the little scamp Jesha has taken in. Do you know how thievery is punished where I am from? They remove a finger for every offence. Do you have 12 fingers to give?"

He grabs my left wrist, pulling me closer to him. His grip is unrelenting; I couldn't break free if I tried!

Isha desperately claws at the huge man, to no avail, of course. She's just a ghost after all.

"You stupid brat! Did you think you'd be safe just because that fool over there told you to do it?"

He forcibly turns me to make me look at said fool. He's still just smiling. Something’s changed, however. His smile has returned to his usual mocking self.

Is he throwing me under the bus? No, he wouldn't gain anything from it, at least I think he wouldn't. So what is he trying to tell me with this?

I suddenly recall our little chat on our way here, what I would do in Zareth's shoes...

"Let me go."

"What did you say? You have to speak up, little one."

Now he's taunting me too. I hate all of this.

"I SAID, LET. ME. GO."

"And why should I do that?"

What would a man of his size and power truly fear?

I look him dead in the eyes, holding his gaze. I calm myself, appearing as cold and unbothered as I possibly can.

"Do not fool yourself into thinking you are above death."

He raises his eyebrows at my exclamation.

"Do you think a puny child like yourself could harm me? You’d be dead within the hour. Drawn and quartered, your pathetic corpse displayed for all your kin to see."

"And you wouldn’t be alive to witness it."

His grip tightens. If I look away or flinch now, I lose. He is stronger than me. His influence stretches wide. And yet here I stand, less than a metre away.

All that might, and still… a doubt flickers in his mind. 'What if he could?'

Jesha remains silent, unmoving. That knife was no accident either; it was placed for me to find, surely at his whim again.

I truly despise you, Jesha. But I'll trust that this is part of your plan. Now to teach this man what true fear is.

"Isha, go for his throat. Stop just short of it."

In a flash, faster than I ever thought my body could move, I pull myself closer to him with my left. In a terrifyingly efficient motion, the knife snaps into my right hand and drives straight toward his throat.

Time freezes in place. I need a quick moment to understand what exactly happened. Beltharion managed to grip my weapon with his left hand, stopping it before it even came close to its target. He's bleeding rather profusely from said hand.

"HAHAHAHA!~"

He starts laughing with his whole being.

What?

"You've got guts, kid! I like you!"

What?

Jesha hurries over to him, starting to care for his wound.

"I told you he'd be to your liking."

"Fine, I'll think about it. We'll talk more tomorrow. Now get out of my sight, the both of you. It's way past the kids' bedtime anyway."

Thusly, Jesha takes my hand and leads me out of the room, out of the manor and back to the slums. I am too stunned to speak most of the way. Jesha accommodates that for most of the journey, except shortly before we reach the gate.

"You did quite well in there! For a second I thought you might actually manage to kill him."

So this was all planned on your end, just like I thought.

"I am a man of my word, so you will be paid handsomely for that performance. But you'll have to choose. Do you want money, or for me to answer that question..."

"Can't you just give me both?"

You ungrateful bastard...

"I could, but there's more to this choice than you might realise, so I won't..."

That's rather cryptic, is it not?

He’s forcing me to choose between learning who my father is and ensuring my family’s survival? What a cruel joke. But the answer is obvious. Pressing Mother is the last thing I want, but if it comes to that, I can still find out from her.

"Just pay me with what you've promised. I think that encompasses a good bit of money, medicine and cookies?"

He appears rather disappointed at my answer.

"Very well, my subordinate will give you these things tomorrow at the market."

In general, he seems rather melancholic about the whole situation. I wonder why, I didn't peg him as a man of such feelings.

Leading me though the gate, I said goodbye to him and left for home. The first thing Eleanor noticed was the frilly dress I was still wearing. She seemed rather enamoured with it, so I'll just gift it to her. Not like I want to wear it any longer.

Mother seemed a little distressed, seeing me in such a getup. This only reinforced my theory that she once wore something like it, before I was born. Still, when she saw how happy Eleanor was to receive it, her worries quickly faded.