Dear God, I can’t do this. I can’t.
My mother seems to read my mind. “I know it’s daunting, darling. But you’re strong. You can do this. And if you shut your eyes, you can pretend he is anyone. You can imagine that your husband is someone you desire, someone you want to fuck.”
My head is already screaming at me that I can’t. That this is the most reckless, most dangerous thing I could possibly think of doing.
“Even Antonio…” She says gently.
My eyes widen. Does she really think I’d do that? Yes, I once had a childhood crush on the man, yes, right now, I would absolutely marry him if that was the option, but that’s not because I’m in love with him, not because I fancy him, it’s because the alternative is so much worse. Antonio is an escape,nothing more. He represents the fantasy of a life I’m starting to realise I will never have.
“I don’t…” I begin but she places a finger over my lips to silence me.
“Sssh, it’s okay.” She says. “This is what it is to be a woman. This is what it means to endure. We do our duty in our marriage beds, we smile, and act pleasing for our husbands, but they cannot read our minds, they cannot control our desires. You may not be able to physically perform such acts, but in your head, you can do whatever you want, you can be with whoever you want. And that’s how we get our dreams. How we get our desires.”
I gulp back, hearing not logic, not reason, but alarm bells. What she says goes against everything we’re taught as Brethren. What she’s saying is a form of adultery. It has to be.
She smiles again, nodding in such a convincing way I almost believe her. And then she picks up the brush and starts combing through my hair once more. “Now, let’s talk about the marriage ritual.”
I feel a shiver run down my spine, but I nod, willing her to continue. I need to know what I’m facing. If tonight has proven anything, I need to be forewarned.
“The ceremony will be held in the cathedral, in front of everyone,” she begins, her voice taking on a practical tone. “You’ll be purified beforehand, of course. Then, you’ll walk out in front of the waiting crowd, with all eyes on you.”
I can picture it already. The grand cathedral, the press of the masked crowd, the weight of their expectations. My stomach churns again, but I keep my face composed.
“Gunther will be waiting for you at the altar.” Mother states. “He’ll lay you down on the crucifix, where the High Priest will confirm your... purity.” She pauses, looking at me meaningfully.
I feel my cheeks burn, but I don’t look away. I knew that part was coming. That’s a given in every girl’s first marriage. Thebride must be pure. A voice whispers in my head that that would be a way out of it, if I could ruin myself, if I could spoil my virginity, then Gunther would never marry me.
But I would alsoberuined.
My family would be ruined.
I know for sure that I’d be sent to Oblivion for such an insult.
“…then, as part of the ritual, Gunther will place his hands around your neck. It’s symbolic. A representation of you leaving behind your old life and being reborn as the Chapter Lord’s wife.”
I nod, trying to absorb it all. It sounds terrifying, but what choice do I have?
None, that’s what. The only thing I can do now is be a good bride, to do what is expected of me. Afterall, that’s the only path left to walk.
My mother leans in again, her voice intense but quiet, as if she doesn’t want anyone to hear. As if she thinks half the servants have their ears pressed against the door. “Paitlyn, listen to me. You must behave, obey and play the perfect wife. Long term, Gunther will grow old, and then everything will change...” She leaves the sentence hanging.
“Change, how?” I ask.
She cups my cheek, her eyes blazing in a way I’ve never seen. “Just play your part, and then, my darling, you will have the world.”
Is she really saying that? Promising that? That, what, we’ll take over, we’ll somehow rule the Brethen? I want to laugh. I want to throw my head back and laugh so hard. Only, it’s not funny. What she’s saying is treason. More treason.
Pailtyn
Ishould be in bed, I should be asleep and yet my mind won’t switch off. It’s the night before my wedding, the night before everything in my life changes for the worse.
I convince myself that I’m just going to make a drink, but as my feet walk silently through the house, the temptation to slip out the door, to disappear into the night and to disappear forever grows.
I could do it. I could grab a few things, a few valuable items. It wouldn’t be enough to set me up for life, but it would be a start.
I chew my lip, imagining what such a life would entail. I barely know anything outside these four walls, outside this world created for me, outside the Brethren. I know there’s more, I know so many millions of people exist with jobs and houses, and they live and die with no knowledge that we control it all.
It hits me then how utterly ignorant I am. How intentionally ignorant they’ve made me.