Cottage House III

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was there no such thing as privacy in this world anymore? A wave of hot anger rose within me. My expression made it clear that I did not approve of his behaviour, and I shook my head firmly.

"Are you out of your mind? Get out!" I shouted, my voice trembling.

The expression on Walma's face changed. He raised his eyebrows and smirked slightly before suddenly stepping closer. His blue eyes, faintly glowing under the moonlight, held a subtle challenge.

"I helped my little dwarf brothers with the laundry," he murmured. "If you don't take off your clothes, I'll do it for you. And don't worry, I won't look while you bathe." His grin widened.

His words might have sounded like an innocent joke, but his actions were something else entirely. He had already rolled up his sleeves and started touching my undergarments. After the respect Arwa and Daneel had shown me, a stranger behaving so recklessly made my stomach turn. The discomfort rising within me became unbearable.

Even as I tried to push him away, he seemed to understand exactly what I was trying to do.

"You little rascal," he teased. "How can I help you if you won't stand still?"

"Stay away from me! I used to wash myself just fine, and I can still do it. Go to your mother, who loves you so much!" I snapped, unable to keep the anger out of my voice.

For some reason, those words cast a dark shadow over Walma's face. His eyes drifted for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, he did something I never saw coming—he slapped me hard across the cheek.

I was so shocked that I instinctively placed my hand on my reddening cheek and stared at him. The slap hadn't hurt much, but its unexpectedness had stunned me.

"The woman you saw outside isn't my mother; she's my stepmother," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "Her eyes were always on my father. After my mother died years ago, she latched onto him like a leech and never let go."

My anger halted in an instant. I wasn't sure if I should feel ashamed for my embarrassing situation or sorry for Walma's painful past. But somehow, something inside me told me that I should offer him some comfort.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice softer now. "I'm sorry for your loss. I didn't know she was your stepmother. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Walma gave a slight nod and then sighed. "Uh… whatever. If you want to undress yourself, do as you please. At least it saves me the extra work. And I promise I won't look at your private parts." He rolled his eyes slightly.

Carefully, I removed my undergarments and placed them in the corner, covering my private areas with my hands as I sat on the stool. For the first time in my life, I was about to be washed by someone other than my mother. Even the thought of it made me uncomfortable. Why was this crazy girl so stubborn? I could wash myself just fine!

Walma picked up the sackcloth and started scrubbing my back. She was rubbing it so hard that I thought she would strip my skin off. She lifted my arms and scrubbed my armpits with the same force. I could no longer cover my private areas properly with both hands—some parts were now exposed. Walma hadn't kept her promise. She was looking where she shouldn't.

When our eyes met, I shot her a sharp glare, making it clear that her behaviour was inappropriate. But she remained unfazed. Shame was something she seemed entirely unfamiliar with.

"God knows how long it's been since you last bathed. I want you to stand still, you filthy little thing. I'm going to scrub every inch of your body," she said smugly.

"I can bathe whenever I want! I don't need you to teach me personal hygiene!" I retorted angrily.

She slapped the same cheek she had hit before. Then she slapped the other one. Now, it was really starting to hurt. So Walma wasn't someone you wanted to make angry.

"Ahh! Why do you keep slapping me?!" I shouted, but before I could even finish my sentence, she landed a third slap.

"I like slapping you. Your cheeks look so good when they're red," she said mockingly.

I didn't want to raise my hand against a woman. As a gentleman, such a thing would be beneath me. The best thing to do was to accept this crazy girl as she was and wait for this ordeal to be over. My entire body was covered in soap, and now I needed to be rinsed with warm water. I stood up from the stool.

With a mischievous smile, Walma said, "Little boy, it's time for a hot bath."

I was now certain that Walma had completely lost her mind. Fortunately, the water wasn't too hot, or she would have scalded me. She started washing my whole body. Finally, it was time for my private areas. No matter how tightly I covered them with my hands, she kept slapping them away, insisting that I move them.

I didn't want to lose my patience and get another slap, so I eventually gave in and removed my hands.

In truth, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. I had only been making things unnecessarily difficult for myself. She washed my entire body thoroughly.

"Wait here. I'll fetch a towel," she said and hurried out of the room.

Being washed by someone else—especially a beautiful woman—wasn't such a bad experience after all. In fact, in a way, it was quite pleasant.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even notice when Walma returned. She had a woollen towel in her hands. She knelt down and began drying me off.

"There's no trace left of your messy self. You're now a clean and, dare I say, quite a cute little boy," she said with a satisfied expression.

"I'll be an adult in a week. I'm not cute—I have a manly handsomeness," I declared.

At these words, Walma suddenly burst into laughter. For some reason, I liked seeing her laugh. In that moment, I got lost in her eyes.

She noticed it too.

With a strange surge of courage, I leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

I liked kissing her.

So I kissed her again.

My action must have caught her off guard because she froze for a moment. Her cheeks, and even her ears, turned bright red. Without saying a word, she quickly fled the room.

Now, it was my turn to laugh. So I did.