Virgin Heart Ch.1-Pt.5

            Rory's pulse jumped when he realized he was now alone with this man. He bit his lip and turned his head to look at the mysterious figure still standing at the window. The slender dignitary reached a hand slowly up to pull the curtain aside. He seemed to be looking at the night sky.

             "I apologize for belittling your master that way." He said. Rory blinked; dare he believe he heard the faint tremor of embarrassment in that carefully controlled voice? "I despise businessmen and their infectious greed." He seemed to growl this, but when he turned back to the room, all Rory could see in his face was boredom. In a voice to match he said, "You see, I'm typically the one cleaning up after their messes, and saving them from their own destruction."

            He strode lazily to the bed and pressed down on the mattress, he made a sound in his throat but no indication of emotion on the matter. Rory felt like it was his turn to say something, but he feared if he opened his mouth he would just say something stupid, or nothing at all. The man seemed not to mind, and continued the conversation on his own.

             "It will be quite a pleasant change to be in the presence of someone who isn't trying to steal my business or convince me I've made a mistake in my choice of company or my other decisions – or will you?" Rory glance up fearfully, how was he to answer that?

            Lie to please the costumer was one of the rules of thumb for any prostitute, but he knew he was awful at it. He began to quiver under the man's steady gaze. He was sure that this person could see through to his very soul. Rory bowed his head, he felt ashamed to turn away like that be he couldn't bare the spotlight anymore. Besides, there was nothing he could say; there was no way he could lie to this man.

             "You don't have to answer if it's really that uncomfortable for you." Rory glance up in time to catch his arched brow, and that faint glimmer in his eyes. The color rose in his cheeks again as he jerked his gaze back to the carpet. The man crossed his legs once he had sat at the table. "I'm afraid there will be some questions you will have to answer, however." He had taken on a very businesslike tone. He cleared his throat which drew Rory's eyes back to him.

             "Please sit down," The man gestured at the chair across from him. Rory sat shakily, struck by the gut sensation that he was about to be cross-examined. "I'm not looking for flattery at the moment, only honesty." He began. "First of all, I wish to know your age. Not what your master has told you to say, but your honest age. There are some laws I wouldn't break simply on principle."

             "Oh," Rory murmured, Atros hadn't given him an age so he assumed there wouldn't be a problem with being honest. He was of legal age, after all, if only by two years. "Eighteen."

             "What was the definition of your 'virginity'?" The man continued without giving any hint to having heard Rory's answer. When the boy gave him a confused look he responded more gently, "Let me rephrase that, what have all and any of your romantic encounters been like in terms of physical interaction?"

             "Not . . . very – um." He was being interviewed, he realized. The thought might have amused him in different circumstances, but now he just felt as though he had come unprepared for a major exam. ". . . I kissed a girl, once." He said weakly.

             "Only once?"

             ". . . yes."

             "That's all?" This was followed by a lounger pause as Rory racked his brain for any possible mention of infidelity on his part.

             "Yes."

            The man's eyebrow was raised again, the boy wondered if he found this all very amusing. It made Rory want to sink under the table out of sight.

             "No forms of non-penetrative sex, mutual masturbation, pleasurable exploration of the gentle sex? Just a kiss?" Rory bowed his head. Even though his tone hadn't changed in the slightest, Rory could tell that he was being mocked. The first twinge of bitterness began to eat at his fear. He made the mistake of murmuring his thoughts aloud.

             "I'm sorry, you'll have to repeat that." The man commented lightly. Rory blushed again; it was almost a direct order. He swallowed before saying shakily, "I-I had said 'that's the usual definition of chastity, isn't it?'" The ice-blue eyes fell on Rory with the first glint of surprise.

             "So what you mean to tell me is that before you joined the Teahouse as a prostitute you had every intention of being completely celibate?" His eyebrow arched and his voice became low. There wasn't that dangerous feel to it, so Rory could comfortably assume he was holding back laughter. "Were you unsatisfied with the . . . religious promise?"

             "No," Rory looked at the carpet, "My parents were unsatisfied with the financial promise." He hadn't intended to say it so bitterly but the memory had always been a painful one, and a hateful one.

             "Oh, darling, don't be angry."