Sit still. Head bowed. No eye contact. The noble always speaks first.

  In my chaotic thoughts, I repeated the rules my mother hammered into me since I was old enough to walk. There I sat like a taut blowstring as the noblewoman labored to sit down beside me on the rug. The tip of my tooth held my tongue to prevent it from betraying me.

  Head down, I reminded myself. My eyes followed the dusty fringe on the edge of the course cloth of the rug. Still, I couldn't help staring at the hem of her dress gently laid out over the ground like flowers that escaped their basket. My hand tingled, the urge to reach out to touch it pulled at my conscious. The pale light blue silks shined in the sunlight, the golden embellishments sparkled in its rays.

  Despite the summer heat, a chill racked my body forcing its way into my very bones. As the silent seconds ticked on. I felt sick to my stomach. With each breath, it clenched tighter and tighter and I struggled to breathe as my trembling grew stronger. But I dared not to shift to ease the tension in my ribs. Any slight movement could offend the lady next to me.

  “I find it hard to imagine that the son of a well-known fortune teller would be so tense around nobility.” The noblewoman broke the thick silence between us. Every word she spoke, she articulated clearly.

  “Child, relax. Greet me as the young man you are and stop staring at the ground. I don’t fancy speaking to someone who only looks at dirt.”

  Her sharp words startled me. I flinched nearly falling on top of her as the sudden movement coursed through me.

  “Heaven’s lad,” she continued, her tone softening. She slightly lifted her petite frame as she tucked her dress nicely under her legs. It reminded me of my mother. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ve heard so much about you from your mother. But, you’re never here when I visit.”

  Inhale. Exhale. I forced myself to breathe normally while I mulled over which words to use for my response. Choose wrong and my mother's reputation could be at stake.

  “My apologies, my lady,” I said. “I am unaccustomed to the company of my mother’s noble clients.”

  Slowly, I lifted my gaze from the strange stone I stared at, unsure if she had given me permission to look at her. I didn’t know where to look, my eyes drifted toward her golden brown hair, perfectly tied back and touched with strands of delicate silver. Slowly, as I relaxed, my eyes drifted downwards. Her round face bore the lines of a woman while smiled often. The light blue eyes studied me with a warm curiosity, not the cold scrutiny I've come to expect from nobles.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Well,” she said. “Now that I have a good look at you, you’re not a bad-looking lad. You have your mother’s nose but the rest must be from your father, especially those eyes.”

  I wouldn't know. My reflection in the pond is never that clear. I sharply exhaled. A father. She wouldn't know it, but I don't have one. A small hand grabbed my hand and held it tightly.

  The noblewoman’s smile slowly left her face and she closed her eyes. She sharply inhaled. A warmth crept slowly into my cheeks and I quickly turned away. Don't stare at a noble. My mother's voice haunted my thoughts.

  Seconds that felt like hours ticked by. The shouts and chatter of the market blurred together into one sound. I closed my eyes and focused on the numbness tingling in my legs and back.

  “This is just wrong. Someone like you shouldn't live like this,” the woman said, her voice barely audible above the market noise. “You act like you've never talked to a noble.”

  I shook my head. “My mother prefers that I leave when her noble clients arrive, my lady.”

  “A shame, but understandable.” In the corner of my eye I saw her cross her arms. “You look so much like him.” She looked toward her feet. Her shoulders rising and falling betrayed the laugh she tried to hide. “And stop staring at the ground! It's unbecoming of a man with your status.”

  A man of my status. I shook my head and looked at my bare toes in the dirt. “With all due respect my lady, I don't understand you.” I pulled my knees to my chest, leaning my chin in between them. My stomach gurgled, protesting it's empty state.

  If the noblewoman heard my stomach she didn't react. I glanced over toward her. She stared at the closed door of my mother's tent, shaking her head. “You should be in there helping your mother. How are you going to take over for her if you sit out here?”

  “My lady, I don’t believe I will be able to take over my mother’s work. What she does isn’t easily passed on.”

  The noblewoman glared at me, her light blue eyes filled with a fire. My stomach clenched up, twisting in circles as my thoughts raced through my mind. She's offended.

  “I know exactly what your mother is, boy,” she said sharply leaning closer toward me. “She’s a true fortune teller, not one of them fraudulent charlatans. Ancient magic runs in her blood. Her futures always come to be.”

  Behind the furious noblewoman, a familiar rustle of blankets and pillows signaled that my mother’s session with the young noble was ending. I quickly jumped to my feet and offered the noblewoman a hand. She accepted it and pulled herself to her feet, struggling with the flowly fabric of her dress.

  Once on her feet, the noblewoman didn't let go. Her hand slipped down around my wrist and grabbed it firmly. I struggled against her iron grasp but I couldn't escape. She pulled me close, I felt her warm breath against my ear.

  “Abel,” she whispered, sending a shiver down my spine. “Don't deny who you are. Embrace it. Your mother needs you to.”

  She released me as the tent flap lifted, revealing my mother and the young noble girl. I quickly stood up straight, hoping my mother wouldn’t question what had just occurred.

  I looked into my mother's wide, shocked eyes. If I didn’t know otherwise, you think she'd seen a ghost.

  “Alemania, what the hell are you doing here?”