Or Else Let Her Be Mine And Mine Alone

Despair, Limerence and Pain

'That is horrid!' Marie responded.

She continued, 'The poor girl was a mess when they returned, he literally dragged her to his chamber. Clearly, he was furious. Even some of the guards were scared. But I was calm, for I have served families. These incidents are not unheard of in couples,' the matron informed. 'I expected the screams and the breaking of glass, but after it stopped, I presumed that it was over.'

Marie tilted her head in confusion.

'I was just about to leave the Palace, when I saw her coming down the stairs. She was looking at me with such a wretched face. I came closer and saw blood.'

Marie's eyes opened wide, and remained that way for the rest of the story. She sat quietly, processing everything she had heard.

'You know,' commented the older lady, 'people say that she is a prostitute, so I thought that she would be used to such things. But by the Holy Virgin,' she said, taking a drink of water. 'She looked so frightened; I couldn't help but feel sorry. I mean, she's just a girl. An Egyptian, yes, but still a girl.'

Marie confided, 'But, she doesn't come across as a sorceress. Not to me, at least.'

'To tell you the truth, not to me either. When I came here, I was half-prepared for her to ask for henbane or belladonna. Don't they use it to get visions of being transported to the Sabbath?' she mused enthusiastically. 'I admit that the notion is a curious one. In fact I want to see how a person in such a trance appears.'

Marie gave a small laugh. 'Do not take me for a tattler, but I don't get the idea that she even enjoys being with him.' She sighed, 'It is sad.'

'Anyway, it's not our place to discuss these matters,' the head maid said finally, getting up from her chair. 'You should start the dusting.'

Marie agreed, taking a good drink of water before starting the day. Just then, sounds came from upstairs that made her stay still. Both the women looked at each other's equally distressed faces.

Loud screeches, which turned into cries, and eventually sobs.

--

A dazed Esmeralda was still lying at the edge of the bed, not allowing her arms to unfurl for even a second. In spite of the summer heat, her body was palpitating continuously, involuntarily.

The words of the archdeacon came back. 'No matter what happens, no matter what he does, you are not his slave. You are a breathing, living person with thoughts, and he cannot take that from you, ever.'

Like all reassurances, that too had turned out to be false. Persistently her thoughts returned to the same thing. Time after time his lingering scent perturbed her senses. The feeling of his arms around her. The sound of him moaning and panting with pleasure. The sight of his perspiring, aroused face above her...and pain. So much pain.

She coughed, hoping that it would make up for the urge to vomit. Most of the previous night had been spent blubbering in her pillow to avoid waking up her companion. After much difficulty had sleep finally come, and it was broken by the cruel man again. In all this, she had failed to notice that there were dried reddish-brown stains on the sheets.

He had proceeded with the assault even when he saw blood.

A chill passed through her spine at the thought. She had heard tales of brutality in her tribe. Ill-fated women who were ravished on the way, husbands who turned out to be monsters on the first night, ruffians who settled scores with enemies by going after the women of the family; she had heard all. But never had she imagined to experience such things herself. The assumption was always that she would never let that happen to her. She would protect her virginity until she met a caring man who loved her, whom she would marry. What else did she have a dagger for?