“Iamthe god,” he roars.
“And you made the rules,” I hiss. “Rules to gratify you and men alike. Men who like to watch women cry as other men double their size pin them down and have sex. Men who get excited by watching monsters force themselves upon young girls. Men who sleep well at night in the castles they built on other people’s misery. I don’t know anything about the outside world, but I know that what you have created here is purely a man’s world. And you have forced me to live here along with all the other women,” I take a shuddering breath, “and we are tired of it.”
My father grins then claps his hands loud and slow. “What a speech,” he murmurs. “Beautiful.” He takes a few more steps back and settles on the edge of the desk. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a born leader.”
“You must have taught me well,” I sneer.
He takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Silas Morales was most impressed by your performance out there,” he says, checking his watch. “He will be here any minute to unburden me.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I will not marry a man like Silas. He’s older than you,” I say through clenched teeth.
“His sons are just as excited about your arrival.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes briefly, trying desperately to find something to make him see how mad this all is. “Don’t you think the villagers will start to realise what’s going on?” I ask calmly. “The fact they work hard to provide for the forefathers, and what are they getting in return?” I ask. “The threat of hanging if they step out of line? They’ll begin to see how happy you are with your wives in tow and yourhundreds of children, and they’ll question what they’re getting from all this.”
“We are securing the future,” he says. “Our responsibilities as the creators are to ensure this village grows and continues on for centuries.”
“What about when new villagers begin to talk?” I ask. “When they tell tales about the real world and how it’s nothing like this.”
“Exactly,” he says. “Out there, where their women are exposed to ridiculous ideas. Here, men are looked after, and their wives won’t leave them for another man or get drunk in bars with friends. Here, they will become devoted, caring wives.”
“No,” I snap. “Here, they become trapped. You’ve made sure they can never escape. Is that what you promise men?”
“I merely tell them how it is here. How they choose to conduct their marriage is their business. No one gets involved. But women do not frolic in the streets or tease men in bars. They raise children and do their duty.”
Understanding dawns on me. “You offer controlling, violent men a dream. They get to keep their wife all to themselves, no questions asked.”
“I created a place where marriage vows are taken seriously. In sickness and in health, for better or for worse. If you commit to marriage, you shouldn’t just get to leave when things are tough. Out there, divorce is easy. It’s become the norm.”
There’s a knock on the door, and my father rounds the desk. “Come in,” he calls.
Silas enters, and they shake hands. He brings his greedy eyes my way, and I shudder with repulsion as he zones in on the blood smeared across my inner thighs. “Wynter, I’m sure you will fit into my family perfectly,” he says, holding out his hand. I don’t take it, and he retracts it, smirking. “Shall we get on with it?” he asks my father, who nods.
I watch in horror as he proceeds to take out a book from his drawer. He opens it out and signs it before turning it towards Silas. He also signs it then turns to me, holding out the pen. “Are you going to sign or shall I forge it?”
“What is it?” I ask, knowing full well it’s the register for marriages.
Silas grabs my hand, pushing the pen into it as he pulls me over to the desk. He keeps his hand over mine as he scribbles in the box next to where he’s signed. “Well done,” he praises, releasing me.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morales,” Father announces with a smile.
“That’s it?” I demand angrily, dropping the pen onto the desk. “Not even a ceremony?” I don’t want any such thing, but the fact they can just force a woman to sign her life away is ridiculous.
“We thought it would be better to keep it behind closed doors. We all know you like a show.” Father smirks, slamming the book closed and placing it back in his drawer.
“We should go home. My wife and children are waiting to meet you,” says Silas, grabbing my hand again. I try to pull free, but it’s no good as he just squeezes tighter.
“Good luck,” Father offers, shaking Silas’s free hand.
“I don’t need luck,” he replies. “I’ll have her whipped into shape in no time.”
My father gives a jovial laugh, following us to the door and opening it. “That’s why I knew you’d be the perfect candidate.”
The walk back to Silas’s home feels like the longest of my life. He doesn’t bother to speak to me as he marches at a pace faster than my legs want to carry me, causing me to stumble a few times along the way.
A woman is waiting at the door, and she smiles warmly, nodding. “Welcome back, sir,” she says to Silas. “Would you like me to show Wynter to her room so she can freshen up?”
“No,” he says coldly. “Where is everyone?”
