The Prince's Chess Piece
Incitement
“For a foot that is stepping, may you find a direction. Not limb despite sometimes dazed thought.”
Life is about decisions to be made and lived with their own consequences.
Kinanthi was standing, waiting for Mr. Nabastala to finish his morning meal. His gaze stared straight at the golden-framed photo with the size of a piece of gaban, displayed haughtily on the wall right behind Mr. Nabastala sitting.
Featuring a portrait of a dashing man full of authority and charisma, with a tuxedo made of silk paired with a wing-collared shirt and bow tie. How lucky he was to be born with such a perfect face.
“Kinan.”
Kinanthi's gaze shifted, on that sometimes annoying guy before her, “Iya, Mr.”
“What do you think?”
“What?” Kinanthi's forehead was wrinkled, he could not catch quickly what the master meant.
“Flat, no?”
Finally Kinanthi understood where the talk of the master, “Lumayan,” he replied plainly.
“Hah, just good?”
“Kinan Cerus should say what? Very handsome, so?”
“Yes, it's possible. Who knew you'd praise my good looks.”
“Photo is just an immortalization of a person's portrait. Those of us who look at it do not know exactly how the shooting process is done. Yes, it is possible with pretense, for example.” There was a cynical grin on Kinanthi's lips.
Mr. Nabastala was stunned for a moment to hear the words of Kinanthi, “Ya might be so, but at least what looks can represent the character of the owner of the photo.”
“Yes, representatives who often cheat their own owners.” Kinanthi mutters.
The mutter that was more like the hum of a bee was still able to be heard clearly by Mr. Nabastala. Making him think, digesting the words that Kinanthi had just said.
Seeing that, Kinanthi immediately cleaned up the empty plates and glasses of the former master's breakfast. After that hurriedly left the room, before another crazy thing was ordered for him.
“Kinanthi,” shouted the master with his floor.
But Kinanthi was a fool, he continued to pass as if he had not heard the cry of Lord Nabastala.
••••
He had just climbed a few steps, on the lower floor of the mistress, Mr. Herman and Mayang were sitting in the main room which can be seen clearly from the top floor. The view of each pair of eyes hints at a negative atmospheric aura of dislike.
“Kinanthi. Is that really your name?”
Kinanthi's move was forced to stop, when Mayang deliberately blocked him on the last rung of the stairs. His hands were ruffled around his waist, like a police officer who found his prey, the unsheltered criminal.
“Iya, right. Indeed why?”
“I warn you, all the way from Nabas. Ngerti,” snapped Mayang.
“Whose you are?” Kinanthi was so calm in the face of Mayang's treatment.
“Captain wife.”
Bwahah .. Kinanthi's laughter almost exploded, but he was soon arrested. “New wife candidate, right? If so, if not? Cih, pede very so people.”
Mayang's hand landed rough on Kinanthi's cheek, leaving a hot taste as well as a flushed rash. It is unexpected that Mayang will do that hard.
“Kajakin fight?” challenge Kinanthi still with her calm nature.
“Basic maid,” cried Mayang wrathful right in front of Kinanthi.
“No maid, rather than that,” sneer Kinanthi as she passed.
“Look at it later, Nabas will definitely ngusir elu,” threatened Mayang with lips grumbling like catfish again kayakan looking for prey.
Looks like Kinanthi days will be even more miserable after the presence of the Mayang.
••••
The afternoon sky of the largest megapolitan city in Indonesia looks cloudy. Perhaps soon the universe will send news of grief, which is present with the rainwater spills flushing the earth earth.
“Non Kinan,” call Mr. Herman when Kinanthi is pouring the side dish into the plate.
Mr. Herman oversaw Kinanthi's deft cooking, as well as serving food. The criteria of many men.
“Iya, Sir.”
“Master is already waiting for dinner, you quickly set it up a little.”
“Iya, Sir. It's almost finished,” Kinanthi replied without turning his head.
In a hurry Kinanthi brought dishes containing various kinds of alternating dishes. A large plate of teriyaki chicken, sauteed mushrooms oyster sauce, sweet sour shrimp, a large bowl of broccoli meatballs clear gravy and many others. Lastly he carried a tray containing four glasses of apple juice.
While focusing on Kinanthi lifting the tray, the bully Mayang came with his act. Mayang pretended to take a bottle of mineral water from the refrigerator, and dropped it right where Kinanthi's foot was stepping.
Can not imagine the fatal accident that befell Kinanthi. His feet slipped, the tray and its contents fell scattered, the apple juice in the glass splashed everywhere. Sinlessly, Mayang took the dropped bottle of mineral water.
“Oh, sorry. Deliberately.” His grin as it passed left Kinanthi.
“Cih, cunning human base,” hiss Kinanthi.
“If it is wrong it is wrong, no need to find a scapegoat.” Mr. Nabastala's voice shocked Kinanthi.
“But, Tuan—”
“Work is becus. Clear all. And as punishment for your work falling apart like this, tonight you have no rations to eat.”
“No rations to eat?”
Kinanthi did not expect the master to do that to her. Without giving him a chance to explain, it was not his fault. Mayang ‘lah deliberately harmed him.
“Huh. Sucks,” grunts her annoyed after Mr. Nabastala left her.
Although Kinanthi's heart did not want to be treated like that by Mayang, but he himself did not have evidence to blame Mayang just like that. Doldrumsily, he picked up broken glass fragments. Once or twice his hands were pierced, fresh blood began to drip from his tiny fingers. However, his heartache was not as painful as his injured fingers.
Mayang and the mistress stood up from a distance, smiling triumphantly watching the initial move to get rid of Kinanthi had succeeded.
From upstairs, Mr. Nabastala secretly observed the behavior of Mayang and his mother.
“Sorry, Kinan,” his sizzle.
