Noon came and I was sitting in the main square waiting for Charles. In my silver gown I seemed to glow in the midday sun. My hair had dried in neat ringlets, with a surprisingly low amount of frizz. I always forgot how long it was when it sat in a tight bun and pins all day. As I was lost in my own thoughts I didn't notice a violin player set up in the center square, a few feet from me. He was muddled with age and carried a violin that was covered in chipped ivory paint, but the music he played was soft. And sweet. The bow graced the strings in perfect harmony and as he pulled back I recognized the tune. It was a old love song, mother would sing it around the house .Before I could realize the man approached me, almost as he could read my thoughts. I obliged his gentle smile and began to sing the tune-
"In a land of old and in a land of glee, stood a maiden who was so pretty"
"Long was her woes and long was her days, withering in search of the love of the age"
The man beamed at me , and I continued, feeling a weight slowly lifting off my chest, a few older women in the market perked up and began listening from afar.
" O how she danced and danced in the ball that night looking for a feeling of delight, she saw him there so tall and proud, as handsome as a king and as big as a -"
I stopped when I saw Charles staring at me from across the square. He looked shocked ? Like he was looking at a stranger. I bowed to the man who returned a smile in exchange and ran to Charles.
"-I'm so sorry I didn't see you-"
"I didn't know you could sing" he said , anger flashing in his light eyes. A anger I knew the warning signs to.
" I-I don't" I laughed and smiled. "I just knew the song and joined in while waiting for you"
"What are you wearing" he said grabbing my shoulder roughly, jerking me to him at arms length, looking me up and down. His eyes stopped at the exterior black corset that cinched my waist, accentuating the curves of my backside.
"You don't like it ?" I said softly ," I found it around the house and decided to wear it into the city center today, I had to see a healing witch and wanted to wear something nicer than my frock"
"Do you realize how men were just staring at you when u were up there? Like they do the brothel girls when they run around in their ghastly street clothes. They looked at you like you were a whore for the picking my dear"
He gripped my chin up as a single tear rushed my face
"I didn't see any men, and I thought the dress appropriate with the high neckline, I didn't mean to insinuate-"
" Of course you didn't , your too trusting of people, men see girls dressed like you and assume you must want a certain kind of attention. So you must avoid tempting them with such a display"
He was right, I was no better that the brothel girls who tempted men outside the tavern. I was so lucky to have someone to protect me like Charles did.
He kissed me softly and led me down the alley up to the back staircase of his house. His family was always gone during the daytime, busy with the business. During his lunch break he would make time so we could be together alone. We entered his small bedroom lined with black wood paneling. The only furniture was his bed centered against the back wall. It was small, the size of a child's, and I always wondered how he fit on it at night. Charles turned to me and pushed me onto the bed ,s flipping me onto my stomach so I faced the headboard . We never talked during sex. We had to rush usually to avoid being spotted by his family or before anyone noticed he was gone. Charles pulled my undergarments down and lifted my skirts up, leaving the lower half of me exposed and the above half covered.
He dropped his paints exposing his length. It was the size of a closed fist and I felt it slightly as he jerked into me. He panted and exhaled as he pushed in and out of me slowly, then picking up with speed before finishing with a loud moan 2 min into the love making. As always he stumbled to the bathroom and I was left on the bed half naked. It was always this way.
After our first Time I told the mistress at the brothel what it was like during a visit. I came by weekly to see her, she became a second mother to me in my teen years , always offering friendly advice and a cup of mulled wine. She was robust with big bosoms and a tiny waist. He face was wrinkled yet she had aged well. She had the biggest smile I had ever seen, and could make a man cower with a glance. I still called her Madame, all the girls did, she was a mother to lost souls. I told her about what he was like as a lover and she laughed "that boy is all squeak and no cock!" She brought the girls in and they laughed at the feat. Saying that in time he would get better and I would finish as well. That a boys first is always short and with time he would become a experienced lover, that never happened. While he was in the bathroom I reached down and found that spot between my legs pleasuring myself until I found release. I silenced my moans and crumpled on the bed, limp with the results of pleasure. I always made Charles believe he caused it, I loved him and wanted him to feel like I was undone by him.
I rushed as I redid my corset and pulled my undergarments past my blush stained thighs. I took a washcloth siting on his brown dresser and dipped it in the wash basin in the corner of the room. Although Charles family was comfortable they had yet to install a bath upstairs. He hobbled downstairs to wash himself leaving me to hurry before he returned. He liked to leave to go to his families stand right after and I didn't want to be in the way. I took the damp washcloth and brushed it over my inner thighs where Charles seed still lingered, sticky and warm. I knew from the Madame men could buy sleeves for their length at the market to prevent children, he said it chaffed badly so I agreed to start taking a tonic to prevent pregnancy, the Madame's own brew. It caused constant nausea, but I didn't eat enough to get sick anyway, and he was persistent that he didn't want kids now and I had to agree. Even though little mini Charles running around would be nice.
When I was at home , getting dressed for bed I stopped and glanced at myself in the gold dressers mirror . The mirror was dirty and old but had a clear vision of my body in my white dressing gown . I was frail in the arms but plump in the breasts and hips . Too plump I thought . My stomach was rounded around my hips, emphasizing my curves. My hair was still wet from my bath and I looked down at the length cascading in ringlets down my back. The girl in the mirror looks so empty I thought, nothing behind the eyes . I felt numb after the discoveries of today and the time with Charles left me still emotionless . I thought he would pull me out , make me forget that my mother was a necromancy witch For a couple minutes, but it was always there lingering, waiting to consume me. Maybe if I told him I would feel better ? I didn't want to stress him, he already had to contend with who my father was, he would be a humiliated if people found out about my mother, about me . She had to be lying, I have no powers, I'm not wicked and cruel like necromancers are .I don't raise people from the dead. I slipped into bed , the cool rough sheets scratching at my bare legs. I stared at the ceiling until the shapes on the ceiling faded to blackness