This Charming Man

The blast of trumpets fills the air as the metal gates to the Blackshire stronghold grind open. With the red-velvet curtains of my carriage closed, I don't see what's happening outside, but I do hear it; cheers of jubilations, shouts of praise, and music that brings to my mind a scene of unrestrained merriment.

Through trial and error, patience and frustration, I managed to perfect a potion to transform my appearance into that of another. The process, excruciating. Every cell of my body burned and reshaped itself. I felt pain in places it shouldn't be possible to feel pain. As if my entire body became one uncovered nerve stuck endlessly with a glowing rod, the agony I went through was unlike anything I had experienced until that moment. The thought that I'll need to endure it again and again, every week until my mission is complete… It doesn't bear thinking about.

Still, the results cannot be questioned. Even if I were to confess to being an imposter, no one would believe it.

Blue eyes, blond hair, rose-tinted lips, and pale skin, through studying the corpse of the boy I stole this appearance from, I even managed to reproduce his every scar and blemish. To the naked eye, my disguise is absolute. Only by failing to mimic the boy's character is it possible for my deception to be discovered. My time spent with the boy should shield me from most mistakes in that regard. Entitlement and loyalty to "my Clan". Provided I exhibit those traits- my true identity should remain undisclosed.

My lips lift into a smile.

From this moment until I've achieved my goals...

I am Logan Mohan.

The carriage crawls forward; I feel its wheels transition from a grass terrain to one of gravel. The crunch of the stones rattles in my ears as I creep deeper into my enemy's camp.

I take a deep breath. The carriage slows. Abruptly, all movement stops, and I hear the grunt of the whip dismounting from his seat at the head of the omnibus. The sun's merciless rays flood the interior of the carriage as the doors burst open; the man at the door positions steps beneath the exit of the carriage before moving out of my line of sight.

Sighing deeply, I stand to my feet, unhook my golden blazer from the carriage wall, and sling the coat around my shoulder. Descending the steps to the ground, my eyes are met by men, women, and children gathered together. As my feet touch the stones below, the crowd begins, in earnest, to clap and cheer.

My eyes sweep my surroundings, scanning the endless sea of faces within the mob. No emotional state goes unrepresented; joy, excitement, curiosity, jealousy, resentment, and anger. Though the full range of human emotions is writ large on the varied expressions around, anger, in particular, is undoubtedly the most prominent. Despite the smiles which line every mouth I see, the clenched jaws, and balled fists spread throughout the crowd betray the pretence.

It's no less than I should expect; after all, there is to be a wedding. In all games, the game of love included, there are always to be winners and losers. Of course, in this particular game, I am the only one playing with a full hand.

I wouldn't play if that wasn't the case…

Smiling with all the sincerity my hours of practice permit, I bow to the crowd before me, inspiring them to another round of applause. A man breaks from the horde. Standing two heads above me, with broad shoulders and a rugged beard, the man, to my eyes, is the very image of masculinity.

Walking by his side, his very opposite; a girl, not much older than myself. She wears a form-fitting, blue dress which trails her steps and accentuates her curves and supple assets as she moves towards me. Distance separates us, yet a breeze carries the subtle sweetness of her fragrance as it plays with her scarlet hair. She draws closer, engulfing my senses with her scent. Delicate and light, sweet, yet somehow pure; I won't lie to myself, the girl has a charm about her. If my heart still beat in my chest, perhaps it would beat a little faster for her.

'Master Mohan.' Walking past the girl, the man moves directly in front of me and holds out his hand for me to shake. I oblige. 'I'm so sorry to hear about the troubles you experienced in your journey to my humble abode. I heard the news of your abduction. I was so relieved when I discovered that you had managed to escape from the clutches of those vagabonds.' Suppressing the instinct to retaliate, I allow the man's broad hand to impact with my arm. He repeats his movement several times, blaring his laughter all the while.

'I thank you, my lord. Those nameless scoundrels managed to take me by surprise. I would not have dreamed that they would act with such audacity, and so I did not prepare for it when it happened.' The lies tumble from my mouth without hesitation. It takes all strength of will to prevent my smile from mutating, from revealing the satisfaction spreading within me.

'It is true that the nameless in this region have become too brazen. There are even some that dare to go against the natural order of things. Rogues who have gathered together in the hopes of opposing the very system that brings order and prosperity to these lands.'

In equal parts simulated contempt and manufactured humour, I chuckle. 'If you're referring to this Geo fellow and his band of outlaws, they're not rogues, my lord, they are rats. I do not doubt that when the time is right, they'll drown like the rodents they are.'

As if hearing a joke for the first time, louder and with more abandon than before, the bearded man explodes into roars of laughter.

'Quite right; Quite right.' As laughter still pours from his mouth, the man returns to his place beside the red-headed girl. He places a palm on the square of her back and pushes her towards me. Air gushes from the young woman's mouth as she falls forward. Spurred by instinct, I wrap my fingers around her exposed arms, halting her flight.

'I believe you've met my daughter, Alicia, but there is cause for the two of you to become more acquainted.'

The girl escapes my grip and returns her face to the man. 'Father, we have gone through the trouble of arranging this event in celebration of our marriage. Would you ask our guest to forgo the festivities held in his honour?' The man begins to chuckle.

'We are not going anywhere, my sweet. Besides, this will be the first time for the both of you. I don't imagine those of us out here will need to wait very long for your return.'

First time?

First time for what?

'Father, I know our tradition, but can this not wait until the night of our wedding?'

'On your wedding night, there'll be many things to which you will need to attend. The joining of two Clans is not an easy task. As the foundations of that union, the two of you will find little time to perform your marital duties. Tonight should be the night you forge your bond and set the bedrock for the next generation.'

'Father!'

'No more of this!' At her father's words, the girl shrinks back. She raises her head as if to speak, but no sounds escape her mouth. She stomps a foot on the ground, turns, grabs my arm and begins to lead me away. From behind, I hear the boom of her father's laughter. Not moments later, his roars are joined by an orchestra of mirth.

Alicia releases my arm, and I walk a step behind the girl towards one of the many manors located within the confines of the stronghold's surrounding walls. Guiding me within, we scale a staircase leading to the second floor. Side by side, we walk through a vast corridor; we pass door after door until, finally, the girl pauses outside of a room. Her hand shakes while as she reaches for the crystal doorknob. Steadying her hold, she places her second hand around her wrist. Air rushes through her nostrils as she stands frozen in place. A gentle pat reaches my ear. Looking down, I see a single moistened spot staining the carpeted floor. The girl lifts her arm and wipes her face but remains in statuelike on her feet. Her shoulders and knees tremble, the doorknob rattles in her hand. She tightens her grip around the knob; it begins to squeak as she slowly rotates her wrist.

I place my hand over hers and open the door. Touching my palm to the girl's back, I walk Alicia into the room, if "room" is the correct word to describe the size of the space. Perhaps luxury accommodation is a more suitable term.

Equipped with all manner of furniture and amenities, the room within the manor is entirely self-contained. One need never leave, yet never feel contained.

Walking the shivering girl through her own room, I locate the bed. Alicia goes still; her breaths deepen and stagger. Practically dragging the girl to the foot of the bed, I push her back, and she falls face-first into the softness of her mattress.

Turning to her back, Alicia sits. Her hands still quake, but with them, she slips down a strap that holds her dress to her shoulders.

'Please, be gentle with me.'

'Keep your clothes on. I will not be bedding you tonight.' The girl's eyes flash wide; her mouth parts. and sharp air cuts past her lips.

'I don't understand. For as long as I've known you, you've been talking about the day you'll get to.' The girl pauses. Looking down, she wipes her face before returning her moistened eyes at me. 'You've been very clear about your intentions for me. Now that you have me. Now that I'm at your mercy, you suddenly decided that you don't want me?'

I look at the girl on the bed, helpless, frightened; she's right, she's at my mercy. I feel something stir within me, not quite an attraction; it's too savage for that. Lust isn't quite right either, though that too is certainly present. I want the girl. I won't deny it, but as for what I want her for… I can't decide.

'Would you believe that I've changed since we last met?' Bubbles of laughter float past her lips. For a moment, all traces of fear flees from her expression. The moment ends, and her dread re-establishes itself.

'Stop toying with me. I know who you are, Logan. This might be fun for you, but for me, it's torture. Is it not enough that you are to defile my body that you insist on defiling my mind, also? End this wretched game and have your way with me; I have prepared myself.'

Don't tempt me.

'Believe what you wish about me. The truth is, I have changed. I have no intentions of bedding you this night or any other unless it is you who calls me into your bed. I hope with time you grow to see my transformation, but until that day, I shall be patient.'

Alicia looks deep into my eyes; I soften them and allow whatever remains of my humanity to be reflected therein.

'Are you really not to take me?' My answer, communicated by a shake of my head, the lady returns the fallen strap to her shoulder. 'Wait, what about father? He will expect us to have joined as one flesh.'

'Do you think your father will check? Tell him what he wants to hear, and that will be the end of it.' Turning around, I walk towards the exit of the room. Springs squeak behind me, and a moment later, Alicia's hand is on my shoulder.

'Wait! You don't understand; I'm not like you. I wasn't born into this life. I was born nameless to a mother I'll never know. The only purpose I have is to my Clan, as a mother to the next generation. If you will not take me, what good am I to the people who took mercy on me and raised me as their own?'

Mercy?

Look at you, traded to a man you clearly despise. You call that mercy?

There is no mercy in this world'; there are only differing degrees of cruelty. When a boot is lifted from your neck and placed, instead, on your back, is that mercy? Should you thank your aggressor for varying the means of your suffering?

Of course not.

You've been shown no mercy. You're not a daughter; you're a resource, a method to purify the Blackshire bloodline from the persistent effects of the Dread Mother's curse. You're simply new blood to mix in with the old.

If you want to call that mercy, have at you. Far be it from me to wake you from your delusions.

I turn around and behold the sensuous form of the woman before me. Locking my eyes with hers, I see fear and disgust waging war against duty within her.

Given time, I don't doubt that duty would win out; I can see it clearly; her gratitude binds her, however…

The opportunity to pillage the resources of a mid-tier Clan has presented itself to me. I don't have time to indulge in this foolishness. Furthermore, If I am to retrieve Rachel, discipline Geo and set an example for all those who would stand against me…

There is much work to be done.