Refuse
“I’m not bringing you anywhere,” you responded sternly. “I know you’re only here for the money. We can work something out without bothering the young master.”
“So, he is dead,” Mister Gannon said under his breath.
Was there a hint of relief in his voice?
You decided to remain silent and let Mister Gannon believe whatever he wanted to.
“I can be a reasonable man,” he declared. “It will be less expensive and less of an inconvenience if we come to an agreement.”
“I don’t ask for much, just enough for the young master and I to live modestly,” you said, holding your head up high. “If you relinquish claim to the liquid assets, I will gladly sign the estate lands and holdings to you. You can deal with the central government and the insurance company. I have no stomach for it.”
“Good. Good,” Mister Gannon nodded.
“And I will remain the legal guardian of the young master,” you insisted. “Those are my terms.”
“I agree,” Mister Gannon said, holding out his hand.
“One more thing,” you said, refusing to shake his hand, “your man will apologize for striking me. We wouldn’t want the locals to remain under the impression that imperials are disrespectful brutes, would we?”
“You!” Mister Gannon fumed angrily, lifting up his hand as if he was going to strike you.
“Those are my terms, Mister Gannon. There is only so much indignity and sacrifice I am willing to endure for the peace the serves us all. You should remember that, if you are planning to stay here for any length of time.”
The crowd began to murmur.
“Apologize,” you insisted.
“Fine. Fine,” he said. “If you insist.”
“I’m…sorry?” the bodyguard said, sounding confused.
“I apologize Kyn Scholar Lafe for placing my hand on you,” you said, making it clear that’s what you wanted him to say.
Mister Gannon nodded, indicating that his man should repeat the words.
“Um…I apologize…”
“Kyn Scholar Lafe,” you prompted.
“…Kyn Scholar Lafe, for placing my hand on you.”
“I accept your apology. Now that we are on good terms, I’ll bring you to the magistrate so we can clear up matters involving the estate.”
The papers were prepared and signed. Mister Gannon was able to convince the insurance company to release the settlement and he was free to clear and redevelop the estate grounds. Eventually, one of his children, a reasonable young woman who was interested in botany moved in and began a business importing and exporting herbs, spices, and tree nuts. She was credited with saving many of her late aunt’s prized plants.
The central government created a memorial plaque that included the names of everyone who died in the fire, claiming that each and every one of them were heroes. You often left a flower on Chef’s name when you came into town.
The young master continued to change and you continued to live with him in isolation.
New teeth grew into his mouth, including long fangs. His voice became deep and booming. His neck became longer. He started to run on all fours. The scales now covered almost his entire body and his horns were magnificent.
You made clothes for him as he changed, but at some point, they seemed silly. He wasn’t a human anymore. He grew. He became quite large, to the point where the chapel was the only building he could sleep in. The raised stage essentially became his nest.
“I’m getting old,” you told him one day. “I’m gratified with maintaining this sacred place, but it’s empty, except for us.”
“Are you lonely?” the young master asked.
“Aren’t you? At least I can go into town. You are here on your own all the time.”
“This is my fate. I’m poison.”
“Do we really know that? Have we tested it?”
“Do you want to touch me and find out? I couldn’t bear it if you died. How lonely would I be then?”
“Is it enough to simply live? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a very long time.”
“Have you found the answer, Tutor?”
Touch him
Live
