His condition was bespoke shame. But it did not fit his position.
The Chief of Army Staff had no business with a skin disease that made it difficult for him to appear in public. So, he avoided social functions unless it was unavoidable. In such cases, he wore deal shades, turtlenecks and gloves.
Most labelled him reticent. Few knew the reason for his publicity shyness. All called him Shadow Conqueror; for his ability to operate from the shadows yet, manifest open results. Neighbouring nations trembled at the mention of his name. The king was glad to have such an asset.
Those who were close to him knew he had a heart of gold. It was one of them, a maid in his household, that pointed him to a solution.
At first, the arrogance of the supposed healer ticked him off. Then the prescription exacerbated it. He would rather remain this way than degrade himself.
It took the intervention of his Aide de Camp to get him to change his mind.
When, at last, he came up out of the river, his skin was not only restored, it was like his teenage girl's.
At that moment, he embraced a new master and way of life.
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