---Chapter 16 - Anna's Deal
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the dilapidated streets of Bordertown. Harrow's boots kicked up dust as he approached a small, weather-beaten house. He adjusted his noble attire, the fine fabric of his coat feeling almost out of place amidst the squalor of the town. Yet, he knocked on the creaking wooden door with a sense of purpose.
The door swung open to reveal a tired-looking woman in a threadbare dress. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of Harrow's polished appearance, and she quickly bowed her head, her hands trembling as they clutched the doorframe.
"Milord…" Her voice wavered, barely above a whisper. "How can I help you? Why... why are you here?"
Harrow cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension he felt radiating from her. "I'm looking for Anna. Is she your daughter?"
The woman's face paled further, her mind racing through the possible reasons a noble would be asking after her daughter. Had Anna done something wrong? Was she in trouble? Fear flickered in her eyes, and she dropped to her knees, her voice frantic.
"Milord, please! Whatever my daughter has done, I beg your forgiveness! She's a good girl, truly she is. If she's offended you in any way—"
Harrow blinked, taken aback by her reaction. He held up his hands, stepping forward to help her to her feet. "No, no, there's been a misunderstanding. Anna hasn't done anything wrong." He softened his tone, realizing the weight his presence must carry. "I'm not here to punish her. In fact, I've come for a different purpose entirely."
The woman hesitated, her anxious gaze searching his face for any hint of deception. "Then… what is it, Milord? Why would a noble like you seek out a girl like Anna?"
Harrow paused, choosing his words carefully. "I'd like to speak with her. It's important. Could you bring her to me?"
The woman's relief was palpable, but it was short-lived. "She's not home right now," she said nervously. "She's out with her friends. I... I don't know when she'll return."
Harrow frowned slightly, but nodded. "That's fine. I'll wait."
And so, he did. For two long hours, Harrow sat in the cramped, dusty room of Anna's home, his presence an awkward intrusion into the humble space. The room was sparse—barely furnished, with signs of wear and poverty etched into every corner. The woman's nervous movements as she tried to make him comfortable only added to the unease.
Finally, the sound of footsteps outside the door signaled Anna's return. The door creaked open, and a girl of about sixteen entered, her chestnut hair tied back, face flushed from walking in the heat. Her bright eyes widened as they locked onto the man sitting in her home—a man clearly of nobility.
Anna hesitated, standing just inside the doorway, confusion and curiosity warring on her face. "Mother?" she asked slowly, her voice careful. "Who...?"
Before her mother could respond, Harrow stood and smiled. "You must be Anna."
Anna nodded, her expression guarded. "I am. Who are you?"
Harrow's smile widened, though his heart was racing. "My name is Lord Harrow. I've come here to offer you an opportunity—one that I believe will change your life." His gaze shifted briefly to her mother, who stood silently at the edge of the room, her hands clasped tightly together.
Anna's mother gasped softly. "An... opportunity? For my daughter?"
Harrow nodded, turning his attention back to Anna. "I want to make you my student," he said, his voice steady. "I'm offering you the chance to come to Harrow's Reach, to learn from me. You have a gift, Anna, one that shouldn't be wasted here."
Anna's brow furrowed in confusion, her guard still up. "A student? Of what?"
Harrow chose his words carefully, not yet revealing that he knew of her witchcraft. "I see great potential in you. Your talents could be honed, and I can help you with that."
Her mother, who had been frozen in shock, suddenly rushed forward, her hands trembling as they clasped together in gratitude. "Thank you, Milord! Thank you! I... I never imagined someone like you would offer my daughter such a future. Of course she will go with you!"
Anna looked between Harrow and her mother, the shock evident in her eyes. Her mother had agreed so quickly, so eagerly. Did she even understand what was being asked? It wasn't that Anna was unwilling, but the speed of it all was overwhelming.
Just then, the door burst open again, and Anna's father stumbled in, covered in dust from the mines. His face was streaked with sweat, his breath ragged. Upon seeing Harrow, he immediately dropped to his knees, his forehead almost touching the floor.
"Milord!" he gasped, his voice strained with exhaustion. "Please forgive my daughter! Whatever she's done—"
Harrow winced, glancing between the groveling man and Anna's shocked expression. "Your daughter hasn't done anything wrong," he said quickly, feeling the weight of the situation growing heavier. "I'm here to offer her a future, not to punish her."
But the man remained on his knees, too overwhelmed to process the situation. His eyes filled with tears as he stammered out thanks, his words tripping over themselves. "Thank you, Milord. Thank you. You... you're giving her a future we could never dream of."
Harrow shifted uncomfortably. This wasn't how he'd envisioned the meeting going. He had come here to recruit Anna for her talents as a witch, not to receive tearful gratitude. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch of coins, offering it to the parents. "Take this," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "As a token of goodwill."
Anna's father took the pouch with shaking hands, bowing so low that Harrow could see his thinning hair. "You honor us, Milord."
Harrow cleared his throat and glanced at Anna, who stood silently, her expression unreadable. "Be ready to leave by this evening," he said. "We'll leave for Harrow's Reach then."
Without waiting for a response, Harrow turned and exited the small house, feeling a heavy knot of discomfort settle in his chest. He knew he had essentially bought Anna from her parents, and the knowledge made his stomach churn. He had been sloppy. There had to have been a better way to handle it.
Here's a more fleshed-out version of Harrow's visit to the Lord of Bordertown, followed by his departure with Anna:
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Chapter 15: The Lord of Bordertown
Harrow stood at the entrance of the Lord's modest manor. Though technically a nobleman, the Lord of Bordertown commanded little influence or resources. His territory, nestled in the frontier of the kingdom, was largely forgotten by the capital—a perfect place for Harrow's plans to go unnoticed. The guards eyed Harrow suspiciously, unused to seeing a noble so finely dressed come through the gates without prior notice.
Harrow was ushered in, his boots echoing against the cobblestone floor of the small but surprisingly well-kept courtyard. Inside, the manor was dimly lit, and the faint scent of old wood and smoke hung in the air. The Lord of Bordertown, a stout man in his late fifties with graying hair and a belly that stretched his tunic, sat behind a small wooden desk cluttered with paperwork.
The Lord rose to greet Harrow, though the look on his face was one of thinly veiled surprise.
"Lord Harrow, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?" the Lord asked, attempting to sound cordial but with a tinge of uncertainty in his voice.
Harrow took a seat across from him, his demeanor calm yet commanding. He was in no rush—this meeting was more about securing future opportunities than gaining something immediately.
"I've come to speak of cooperation," Harrow began, his tone smooth. "Bordertown is small, true, but it has potential. Resources, labor, and... opportunities for growth. I believe I can help you with that."
The Lord raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Help me? In exchange for what, exactly?"
Harrow smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's simple, really. You see, I have interests here—interests that align with your prosperity. A strong Bordertown benefits us both. What I offer is protection. The church's influence is growing, and it won't be long before they start prying into these lands. When that time comes, I can be an ally. But I need assurances that Bordertown will... remain neutral should conflict arise."
The Lord's brow furrowed. "Neutral?" He looked wary, eyes scanning Harrow for hidden motives.
"You need not take a stance publicly. Simply turn a blind eye, allow my business to continue uninterrupted. In return, you'll find that your town flourishes. I have access to medicine, resources, and knowledge that can transform this place from an overlooked outpost to a hub of trade and power."
The Lord drummed his fingers on the desk, clearly weighing his options. "And what is it that you're planning, Lord Harrow? I've heard whispers... about witches and dangerous dealings."
Harrow's expression hardened for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Witches, my Lord, are not what the church would have you believe. There are powers in this world that are neither good nor evil—simply tools to be wielded by those who know how. I offer you the chance to be on the winning side when the tides change."
After a long pause, the Lord finally gave a slow nod. "I'll consider your proposal. But be careful, Lord Harrow. Bordertown may seem small and insignificant, but the eyes of the kingdom are always watching."
Satisfied, Harrow stood and offered a handshake. "I look forward to our continued... cooperation."
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Back to Anna's Home
By the time Harrow returned to Anna's home, dusk had fallen over Bordertown. The small house seemed even more fragile in the dim light, its rough wooden structure casting long shadows across the dirt road.
As Harrow approached, he saw Anna waiting outside, her face a mixture of nervousness and determination. She stood beside her parents, who appeared somewhat uneasy about sending their daughter away but were clearly relieved by the bag of coins Harrow had left earlier.
Anna's father stepped forward, his hat in his hands, his eyes darting between Harrow and his daughter. "My Lord, we've packed what little she has. Please... take care of her."
Harrow gave a nod, his gaze shifting to Anna. She was young, no older than sixteen, but her eyes held an intelligence and fire that belied her age. He had seen that same look before in other witches—young women forced to grow up too fast because of the gifts they bore.
He gestured to the carriage that awaited them on the road. "Anna, are you ready?"
Anna, her face resolute, glanced once more at her parents. Her mother hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes, while her father placed a hand on her shoulder. After a moment, Anna broke free from the embrace and nodded.
"Yes, I'm ready," she said, her voice steady despite the emotion clearly simmering beneath the surface.
With that, Harrow helped her into the carriage. The wooden door creaked as it shut, and soon, they were on their way out of Bordertown. As the carriage rattled down the road, Harrow glanced at Anna, studying her carefully.
"You know," he began, his voice low, "there's more to this arrangement than what your parents think. I didn't come to make you my student for no reason. I know what you are, Anna."
Anna turned to him, her expression sharp, but she remained silent.
"I know about your powers," Harrow continued. "And I want to help you master them. Where we're going, you won't have to hide anymore."
Anna's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and fear, but she said nothing, waiting for him to continue.
"You've lived in a cage long enough," Harrow said softly. "I'm offering you freedom. In my town, Harrow's Reach, you won't have to fear the church or anyone else. But in return, I need your loyalty. I need someone with your power."
Anna stared at him, her mind racing. She had never imagined meeting someone who knew her secret, let alone someone who offered her a way out.
After a long pause, she finally spoke. "If you're lying to me, I'll burn your whole town down."
Harrow smiled, at the blunt hollow threat and smiled a genuine smile this time. "I wouldn't expect anything less." as he knew her real capability.
And with that, they continued down the road, away from Bordertown, toward an uncertain future.
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