Page 14 of Pretty Plaything

“Why don’t you want to marry him? I mean, it’s not like you know him. Maybe—”

“I can never love someone like him.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“Um, yes, I can. I don’t like him. Never have. Never will.”

“I don’t know what to tell you then. But if you’re worried he’ll hurt you, don’t be. You’ll be his wife. He’s bound by the code of honor to protect you.”

“Does that include being protected from him too?”

“I know you’re scared, but everything’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”

I take a shuddery breath. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he won’t even come to see me. I mean, he already has some prostitute he apparently adores. How can I ever compete with that? And why would I even want to?”

“Think positive thoughts. It will help you calm down,” Emilia says. “If he does leave you alone while he’s with someone else, then you may have more freedom. You could do whatever you want. Well, your hobbies and go shopping, and—”

I groan.

Freedom.

That word just doesn’t have the same meaning for us as it does for the rest of the world. I used to take ballet classes. A woman would come to my house to teach me because I wasn’t allowed out—it just wasn’t safe, as my parents would say.

Later, I had to stop dancing because it turned out my parents only agreed to let me do it because they thought it would improve my posture and help me shape my body.

Once they were satisfied enough, my interest in ballet no longer mattered, even if I wasn’t asking for much, like dancing on a stage in front of people with other kids.

Maybe I’d at least be able to read and watch what I want because now my parents control everything.

For a split second, I think about running away, but that’s stupid.

I love my family. I could never do that to them, and I don’t have anywhere to go.

“Actually, I hope he’ll refuse to marry me,” I say.

Emilia gasps. “Why would he refuse?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to marry and has other plans.”

It’s the only thing that can save me now.