Page 22 of Uprising

I’m afraid I’m making noise, I’m afraid that I’m whimpering like a dying animal but my father isn’t showing any sign of it so I guess that too is in my head.

I stare at the tiles beneath my feet. Some of them aren’t tiles at all. They look like grave markers. God, I’m walking over dead bodies to get to Darius and if that’s not a marker for what this relationship is and how it started then I don’t know what is.

When we finally reach the front Darius takes my arm from my father’s hold.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs.

I don’t reply. My throat feels too tight, my airway feels so constricted, I don’t think I can even formulate words.

The bishop stands in front of us. He clears his throat, instructs everyone else to take a seat and I so desperately want to join them.

I think my legs might collapse, I think I might just fall here, in a heap, in front of everyone and this charade, this entire thing will come out and everything I’ve endured to save my daughter will be for nothing.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of this man and this woman…”

I zone out, I’m looking at Darius, seeing that smile on his lips but I can’t hear the words, I can’t pay attention.

I shouldn’t be here.

I shouldn’t be stood, at an altar with this man. Not after everything he’s done to me. Not after everything he’s done to my daughter.

This was meant to be Roman.

Roman and me.

We were the ones meant to be standing before an altar, declaring our love, declaring our lives for one another.

This man, holding my arm, forcing me into this, he means nothing. He is nothing.

Roman is gone. Roman is dead. I’ll never see his face again.

“Does anyone know of any lawful impediment why these two cannot be wed?” The bishop asks.

I stand there wishing, hoping, screaming in my head of all the reasons why but no one speaks. No one says a thing. The only noise made is from a man coughing and he looks around embarrassed as he does so.

The bishop continues. Darius speaks his vows. He talks of love, of honour, of respect, as if he understands what any of those words truly mean. As if he has any intention of adhering to those vows.

It’s so hard not to scowl then. Not to drop that perfect mask painted across my face.

I want to say it then, to shout, to scream out what this really is, that he has my daughter, that I don’t want him, that none of this is what I want, but even as that idea sets in my head all I can think of is Lara.

Of what Darius will do to her if I don’t obey him.

“Rose..?”

I blink. What the hell did they say?

“Do you promise to love Darius, to honour him with your body, to honour him with your words, to respect and obey him?”

I gulp. “Yes.” I say somehow finding enough movement in my voice to get the word out.

“And will you forsake all others, will you commit yourself for the rest of your life solely to this union, solely to this man?”

“Yes.” I agree again. Like I have any fucking choice in the matter.

A ring is all but shoved onto my finger. I don’t remember putting one of Darius’s but as he says the words ‘man and wife’ and Darius lifts my veil planting a less than chaste kiss on my lips, it’s like something latches onto my heart. Like someone is squeezing it so tightly I can’t breathe, I can’t even pump blood around.

I let out a whimper but no one hears. No one even notices. They’re too busy soaking up the dream that Darius is selling them. The romance of our love that he’s created in their minds.

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