Harun was tense when he was given a talking to by the servant, hoping beyond hope he wasn't discovered. The tongue lashing wasn't something he couldn't handle, however. He had been treated like dirt most of his life. At least the servant spoke to him, rather than walking past him as if he were a stray dog or a dangerous thug. Harun was [i]not[/i] a thug. People just needed to look past the stealing and the violence once in awhile. 

"Yes, of course." He replied to the order, though his biggest instinct at that moment was to kick the servant and then punch the Kedihve straight in the face. The stately man seemed perturbed at something, a manner which Harun believed he kept on him perpetually. Harun hated noblemen, and wiping that look off of his face would be a dream come true. But he knew it would be a death sentence for him, and just as importantly, it might compromise Lakshmi. He didn't really know her, but she hadn't betrayed him yet, so he wouldn't betray her. 

Harun approached, clutching the fan in his strong hands and making his way over to the man. He didn't kneel, even though he felt it was right. He simply knew the man wouldn't be fanned completely, so he stood at a distance and fanned the man, keeping his face neutral. He could feel the lamp in his baggy trousers poking into his leg. 

He glanced Lakshmi's way every once in awhile, surprised the woman who felt so powerful and dominating recruiting him was acting like an obedient pet, neutral in manner and emotion. Harun then began to wonder, when would he be told not to fan, and did servants get bathroom breaks? What if they really needed to go? Fuck, he was overthinking this.