Kan Lakan x reader
Trained to charm, bought to serve, never meant to matter. What begins as a game of veils and poisoned words slowly unravels into something neither of you expected-nor were ever meant to have.
In a world where affection is curren...
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Not just yet
I wasn't supposed to be seen yet.
I wasn't supposed to garner attention yet. I wasn't supposed to gain anyone's attention , especially not the attention of someone so high ranking.
The crinkle between his eyes was one of the first features I noticed about him, I forgot it was never meant to stay— like him.
When I first saw him, his fingers were already on a board, already seated across from another courtesan, one older than I, yet I hold no doubt that my mind is much brighter.
Because as she continued to make her moves, he continued to keep his eyes closed, as if she wasn't even worth the effort of looking at. He's here every other day or so, older than me, but with a mind so sharp, age just becomes such a miniscule thing to worry about. I imagine the discussions we could have together, though I never approached.
Until now.
I am not a courtesan by any means, not because I am too young or too unappealing. No, if anything, the madam is keeping me as an apprentice to entice men to come back the next day, in order to see if I am the new product on the shelf, to see if they can afford my price. Though, the man I wish would be enticed by me, seems to only hold affections for a board and pieces.
Another round gone, it went as all the onlookers, me included, expected. As he went to take a sip of his drink, I decided I'd had enough of simply watching. Every move that the courtesan made, I'd think of a different approach, and every time he retaliated, I'd gain more knowledge. Oh, how much I could gain from just an hour with him.
And here we are, I look up once again to see that his eyes are now open, though the familiar crease between them has yet to cease. He sits with one foot resting on his other knee, not fidgeting, but clearly thinking.
The hour passes, and I win.
A surprise even to myself, maybe he was going easy as it was the first match he played against me? Though if that was the case, I would take it as an insult, why bother being called great if your opponent didn't give his all.
"Again," he said, that's the first thing he has ever said to me. If I were a true courtesan, that word would be said in a completely different context.
When I sat down across from him, that was not only the first time I got in close proximity with him, but also the first time I truly acknowledged his features. I was too entranced by his mind and his skills that I didn't bother to look at him past that.
And now, I was given another reason to be entranced by this man. His eyes held surprise, at first, they went from every feature on my face. As if it was the first time he had ever seen a person before and was trying to memorize every little detail, as if I would slip away. Under the flattering lights of the courtesan house, those eyes looked criminally encapsulating .
