The Prince's Chess Piece
Because of Duty
Suddenly time turned so annoying. Anything to do like there is no point. As for the curse in his heart, he cried out. Who is to blame, if not himself.
It feels like cursing only Mr. Nabastala, if he had the courage. Why did he ask her to go to his two best friends yesterday. Try it if not, surely he will not witness directly the scandal made by his friends-Anita.
Of course the track record of his vision will not continue to rotate like a lighted visual image. Loom over his memory as it is now. And that was a very torturous thing in his mind.
“Already, Kinan! Enough,” Bi Idah warns.
Kinanthi's thoughts were ambling somewhere did not heed the warning bi Idah. He continued to put kitchen salt in the vegetable soup that he was cooking for lunch.
“Kinan!”
Hearing a loud shrill cry beside his ear, Kinanthi spontaneously dropped the jar of salt container he was holding.
“Yes, Bi! Why the hell is screaming, falling this so.” Kinanthi instead of nagging bi Idah.
“What the hell are you thinking?” tanya bi Idah was astonished by Kinanthi's unusual attitude.
Hurriedly Kinanthi took a broom and cleaned up the dropped salt splash regardless of the question of the gawking Idah looking at her. His mind was completely lost among the boisterous memories of his best friend.
“You also throw away the vegetable soup,” remember bi Idah.
“Wasted?”
“Who wants to eat salted vegetables, cake?”
“Asin?” Cook, anyway?” Kinanthi immediately tasted his vegetable soup. “Biuh, really salty, Bi!”
Mr. Nabastala was already standing in the kitchen doorway, because he heard the snoring bi Idah calling Kinanthi. He also felt astonished to see all the strange things about the virgin girl who was willing to bid herself as her slave. His indifferent attitude, making bi Idah so the ringing made.
“Why do you, Bi?”
“Come, Sir. Aunty also does not understand.”
“Since when is Kinan so?”
“It looks like this morning,” replied bi Idah thought.
Mr. Nabastala signaled to bi Idah to go outside the temporary kitchen. Then it approached Kinanthi slowly. Looping both hands on his waist, hugging the body that stood busy pouring vegetable soup to be thrown away.
“Apaan, hell!”
“Sstt. Don't shout, noisily,” whispered Mr. Nabastala.
“Master!”
Strangely, Kinanthi shouted loudly after hearing the whisper. The master immediately released a hug from Kinanthi's body. Don't want to let Idah come and see his behavior.
“Sini, come with me!” strict orders.
Kinanthi. Although he was anxious to vent his frustration on the object that is now not far from him.
A feeling that is always turned upside down with problems, strange but real middle Kinanthi felt. Why was he so upset with Mr. Nabastala, just for taking him away. So that the netra with the lashes accidentally saw something that should not be.
Wh why? Yes, why should he feel disappointed?
Does not the behavior of each individual is their own choice and also has their own consequences as well. Continuing with what reason, Kinanthi had to constantly think about her best friend?
“Kinan.”
“Hah, yes, Mr.” Kinanthi.
“Log in,” order of the master.
He felt strange about the room around him. Since when did he stand in the doorway with no awareness when he was about to enter.
His gaze circulated, sweeping across the room. Kinanthi was amazed at what he saw. A room with various ancient furniture lined up neatly on an iron shelf that supports the sturdy of the antiques. During the time at the new Mr. Nabastala's house Kinanthi saw the special room.
“Include,” that command is back audible.
“Master isn't afraid of getting Kinan here? Kinan really likes to make ”
Hesitatingly Kinanthi's feet stepped into the bright room with the help of the light of the flashing lights. He began to focus on his steps. Fear if careless just a little, can be fatal as a result. And Kinanthi didn't want that to happen.
As if to understand the way of Kinanthi's mind, the doubts that are facing the girl's feelings, Mr. Nabastala's hand outstretched, “You ‘kan is also not a boy anymore, why should you also be afraid.”
It is also true, said Mr Nabastala, why should I be afraid? Only those who do wrong should be afraid, while they are innocent. Or exactly not yet. Finally Kinanthi received the Lord's hand.
The two walked hand in hand between the hallways of the room filled with ancient objects. And most of them are antique jars of various types and patterns.
••••
A minimalist garden with various types and colors of flowers thrives there. A sign that the owner took care of him. A sturdy iron swing was waiting for him to swing around. Like a miracle, how could such a beautiful garden exist in the master's house.
Remembering the entrance to the hallway he had just passed earlier, “He entered through the side of the guest room, turned right, there was a door. There, well ... the door must be locked,” sighed Kinanthi finally.
Feeling desperate that it is impossible to go to the park alone again without the knowledge of the master is impossible. Because the man became the only access to enter.
“The view is very good,” replied Kinanthi lying.
He walked around some palm trees that belong to the betel family had grown towering about two meters or even more. With a large rounded hump.
“You save.”
Kinanthi looked at Mr. Nabastala's face in astonishment. How could the master understand his way of thinking. “Kok, sir can tell if Kinan wants to come here again?”
“Already memorized the same way you think. Here, grab!”
“Till as soon as?”
The nature of the Kinanthi centile began to recur. With pleasure, his hand extended to accept the gift of the master. A key with a broken heart shape hanger.
“Maybe more.”
“More what?”
“More understand you. The proof of that birthmark I still remember clearly.”
“Master!” kinanthi shouts half-dead embarrassment when remembering the events of that time so that the biggest secret of her life is known to her super-bawdy master.
The master smiled knot. Leaving behind Kinanthi who was still standing under the palm tree.
Confused what to do, finally Kinanthi followed the steps of the master who headed for the swing.
“Master, can't you forget that?” pinta Kinanthi's.
“Mm ... can not, yes?”
“Master, please! Lupain!”
“Why should you also forget?”
“Kinan will be ashamed,” whine Kinanthi groans.
“Why should I be ashamed? We're the only ones who know? Or is there someone else who knows?”
Mr. Nabastala mocked Kinanthi.
“Master! There's no way anyone else could know, except Kinan's parents.”
“Lah, that's the father you also know. How not to be ashamed?”
“Yes are different, sir. They're from little Kinan.”
Kinanthi's face was flushed like a boiled crab, enduring the embarrassment of being matedekin continuously. It felt like just running away, leaving the man who was sitting swinging around. But dear, the garden was too beautiful to ignore.
“No fatigue standing mulu?” Mr. Nabastala switched the conversation.
“Emang can follow sitting on the side, Mister?”
So anxious with the mindset of the cute girl sucks in front of him, when the master stood pulling Kinanthi's body right into his arms.
“Auh,” cry Kinanthi.
“Sick?”
Not the answer that came out of Kinanthi's lips, but the blushing cheeks in lieu of the answer.
A soft kiss landed on the girl's forehead, then crept down on her lips. For a long time the two lips were clashing against each other. Kinanthi, who often found Mr. Nabastala's kiss, began to get used to it. He tried to compensate for the master's kiss, although it still felt stiff.
“Witing tresno jalaran soko kulino” the famous Javanese proverb, loving it because it is used to. Maybe that is the condition of both hearts.
Cloudy hanging up there, being the second witness of people who are increasingly drowning in unstoppable sparkling. The burly hand started to run wild, snaking mischievously behind the knee-length skirt Kinanthi was wearing.
The heart rate starts racing in a rhythm like a jolt. The rough roaring of the hand stopped at the furry hill area. Kinanthi's face looked up, after thrashing out a tongue that continued to sweep through the entire cavity in his mouth.
He shook his head, it's best to have it all stopped. Maybe that's the meaning of Kinanthi's headband. The master understands. Although the maleness rod down there was ready to hit, however, as soon as he was resistant.
“Sorry,” whispered softly to the master while stroking the strayed hair of Kinanthi, due to the ties of her hair she had passed.
The kiss of the master's lips landed warmly on Kinanthi's lips. After that, the two chose to sit on the swing, although the awkwardness looks so obvious.
“Kinan angry?”
The faces of the two collide, “Why be angry? Isn't this also part of Kinan's task?” The girl smelled a bitter smile at the corner of the lips.
It felt like the earth had suddenly stopped spinning for a split second. Mr. Nabastala did not expect an honest answer to come from the lips of the woman who tethered his heart. Duty, as he said.
“I'm sorry Kinan, so sorry!”
Kinanthi without any reaction to the embrace the master made again, he chose silence. Maybe it's better than all the answers. Although he had a thousand reasons to appease the master over the apology that might be being solemn when spoken.
Not too long ago he thought about his best friend, now increasing again one problem that is being faced. Straining at his own heart for his master Nabastala.
