The wedding breakfast was absolute perdition. All she could think about what was next. She didn't trust Holden at all anymore. He was a crooked, loutish, black-hearted man. She was sure he'd want to have his way with her once he got her alone. And here they were.
Amelia Rose hoped everyone would stay after the wedding breakfast and drink with them long into the night. She prayed that Mayor Zephram and Mrs. Holden would stay and talk with her for a while, but they left after breakfast. Much to her worst nightmare, she was alone with Holden.
Her wedding dress was tight around her torso. It had been hours of shallow breathing. She'd never get this goddamn thing off by herself.
Mr. Holden came back into the room. He sat down close to her on the couch. "Mrs. Holden," he smiled. "How do you like your new home?"
Mrs. Holden—she was Mrs. Holden. She had to wake up, this couldn't be happening. It was an odd name—Amelia Rose Holden. It didn't have that pretty lilt to it. It was so unromantic. So uncolorful.
"It is beautiful," she placed her hands on her lap. "I shall like it very much, indeed."
"I was worried you'd still find yourself angry with me." He rang out his hands. "I know that it has been difficult, but we are well-suited for each other." Amelia Rose looked at him in disbelief. The most painful part of that statement was the amount of delusion it would take to say.
She didn't dare look at him, not even when he reached out and ran his finger around a long strand of her hair. He pressed his finger against her jawline and turned her head. After realizing that he was not giving up, she conceded defeat.
"Listen," he said. "I know I'm not your first choice, but I'm not your last either."
"How romantic, Mr. Holden. How I shall always cherish you, my beloved husband, as not quite my last choice."
"Hush." Caressing the side of her face, he pulled her towards him. There was a bitter tang to his kiss. Repulsion stampeded through her immediately. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away, but he didn't need prompting. He had nearly moved across the couch already.
He wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. His scrunched eyes only hinted at the disgust he felt as well. After examining the handkerchief, he folded it back up. "You aren't very good at that." He coughed.
"I'm not good at it? You're terrible!"
Holden shook his head. "Impossible."
Amelia Rose glanced at him. He had been bouncing his knee nonstop since they sat down. She wanted to reach out and settle him down. "Do you remember sharing the school house with me?"
"Did we?"
"You were so quiet back then. I just wonder what changed? How did that shy kid that used to hide in the corner become such a successful politician?"
He sighed, turning himself from her. "What? Don't think people are capable of change?"
Amelia Rose shrugged. "I want to, but sometimes it's hard to believe."
He ignored her and stared stoically at the coffee table.
"I just thought maybe—"
"You want to hear my sad story?" He asked. "Why? You want to try and fix me?"
"No. Heavens, no. I believe you to be a lost cause."
Holden made a noise back in his throat, something like amusement and satisfaction all rolled into one. He got up and walked across the room to browse through a cigar box.
Amelia Rose was only sixteen. She had an entire life to live. For as long as she could remember, she watched other women get cowed around. She let her own father control her. The first time she ever felt above the system was watching Tanner die. How terrible was that? Somewhere out there, Aiden was suffering with the guilt while she was still riding the high.
And after all of that, she was going to give her life to Holden?
She closed her eyes and remembered what Runa had said to her. She was more than a wife. She deserved to be free. She needed to be free.
Amelia Rose felt tears burning at the back of her eyelids, but if she cried now, she might lose her chance. She swallowed it all back. The door was only a few feet away. Light shined through the windows on either side. "Oh goodness, I'm so embarrassed..." She said.
Mr. Holden held an unlit cigar between his fingers. The earthy smell carried across the room.
"I just thought that we wouldn't be talking much," Amelia Rose forced the words out as difficult as they were. "I thought we'd make our marriage official right away."
He struck a match. "It is official. The paperwork is all—"
"Mm, no. There's other business to conclude."
"Are you—" He looked away, blowing out his match before ever setting his cigar alight. "Oh, that doesn't sound very appealing to me." He studied the cigar more intently, as if wondering whether or not to get back to it.
Amelia Rose frowned. "But you're a man."
"How mortifying. I've forgotten about my incessant manly urge to hump—"
"You know, Mr. Holden, I can divorce you if you don't consummate our marriage. I know my rights," Amelia Rose pointed out. She could technically, if she didn't mind the invasive legal exams she'd have to go through. And she did. She just needed him to believe that she didn't.
"I thought we agreed this wasn't like that. I don't want to change that. Is that—" he pinched his nose like he might say something he was going to regret. "Is that miner of yours still in town?"
"I want my husband," she said.
"Fine." Holden made a noise at the back of his throat. "But this isn't about the legal chokehold you have me in. I really want you to be happy in my home. I know it's not—"
"Less talking." Amelia Rose stood up. "And let's use the room with the big tree outside the window."
He led her up the staircase. She had to lift up her skirts the whole way. Mr. Holden opened the door to the bed chamber. Amelia Rose walked over to the window.
"May I open it, Mr. Holden?" she asked. "I can see the stables from here."
Mr. Holden closed the door. "I thought you'd like that."
Amelia Rose opened the window. The warm noon air filled the room. There was a great tree that brushed against the glass. Her heart started to beat faster. When she was out riding the other day, she thought she'd seen Mr. Holden peeking out of this window.
He groaned. With his cravat undone, he rubbed his side. Behind him, there was a plaid cap on the dresser.
"What is the matter, Mr. Holden?" she asked.
He contorted his face, "I burned myself the other day."
"How?"
"On purpose. You'll see why."
"I apologize, I fear I heard you wrong," she said.
He said nothing.
"Oh, perhaps you should fetch yourself some wine for the pain," she suggested.
"No, I'll be fine. Would you like me to call my mother's lady's maid to help you out of your gown?"
"No." She had probably said that too fast. Mr. Holden looked suspicious. "Y-You can figure it out, surely." Amelia Rose smiled.
"I suppose I could cut you out."
Amelia Rose gasped. "What a splendid idea. Do you have a pair of scissors?"
He opened the armoire. "Yes, they're right—" he closed the doors. "You understand that I was joking, right? I would rather call the lady's maid."
"No, Mr. Holden," she shook her head. "Wouldn't cutting me out be so much more fun?"
He sighed and pinched his nose. "No." He sighed and retrieved the scissors. His footsteps were laborious as he walked towards her. She pressed herself against the windowsill. She shivered as the blade pressed against her back, working in between the ribbons of the corset.
"Go on. Do it," she whispered. He cut the ribbons, working his way down the back of her dress. With every cut, her ribs felt a little freer. She couldn't help a little moan escape, just because breathing felt so very good. "Thank you so much."
He said nothing, only walked away to put his scissors back.
"Mr. Holden?"
He stopped. "What is it now, Mrs. Holden?"
"I really want to have a nice evening." She pressed her hands to her chest. "But you see I have a terrible headache, and I would love some red wine."
"I could use some right now, too." He slammed his armoire shut. "I'll go get us some." He looked at her once before he left with a sullen expression. Poor guy looked miserable. Too bad his day would only get worse.
He closed the door behind himself. Amelia Rose exhaled deeply and shimmied out of her dress. There she stood, the warm breeze blowing easily against her in her delicate chemise. She walked towards the plaid cap on the dresser. She dropped it out the window. In the armoire, she found a giant black handkerchief and the scissors. The handkerchief went into her bust while the scissors went out the window. Now, for her most important act—she had been climbing trees her whole life. Could she conquer this wild mesquite? She hurried across the room and crawled up onto the windowsill.
The tree was right within reach She bent out of the window and just as she was about to fall, grabbed hold of the branch. With as much grace as she could muster, she swung her legs up and wrapped them around the branch. Her chemise flew back over her face. She couldn't see a blessed thing, but she was sure the neighbors were getting a show. The rest of the work relied on her legs. She slowly inched towards the center of the tree. The blood rushed to her head and dry branches poked at her thighs. She fluffed up her undergarment to see her progress. Her pressure headache had become unbearable, but now, the center of the tree wasn't too far off.
She pictured herself as a circus performer. Mr. Holden was her lion, the tree was her hoop of fire and Aydesreve was the big top. She let go of the branch and flipped through the air. She reached out and caught onto another branch. Her fear melted away as she swung her feet. Now she lunged diagonally through the air like she had wings of her own. A thud landed her on the low branch, but it slipped out of hold. She grunted and tried to maneuver herself, but her chemise got caught. She went spinning and fell through the air.
"Oh!" Something caught her. Her underwear tangled in the wiry branches. There she hung off the tree like an ornament. She braced herself to fall and swung her legs up, then caught onto the branch with her hands. Exhausted, and already out of breath, she felt around for the spot where her garment had caught.
"Amelia Rose Holden?"
She looked up, hooked onto the branch by her elbows. A smile warmed her lips.
A wine glass trembled in Mr Holden's hand. Had he already drank his? He slammed the other hand on the windowsill. "What are you doing? What on the good green earth are you doing?"
"Climbing, Mr. Holden." She let go of the branch and fell through the air in her underwear, then hit the ground hard. A current of pain whelmed her shoulder. She bit her knuckles to avoid screaming out. When she opened her eyes and rolled over, she saw the plaid cap next to her, so she put it on her head. The scissors weren't too far away. Grateful that she hadn't landed on them, she swept them up in her hand. They became her weapon.
The stables were within fifty feet of the tree. She pushed open the doors. The stable boy wasn't in. She sighed in relief. After closing the doors, she wedged the handles closed with a plank.
"Aries." It was good to see him; he was her only friend in a world of antagonists. She opened the tack closet. Aries allowed her to fit him with his reins. Amelia Rose found the saddlebags. They contained all of her things--Aiden's flier and compass, her encyclopedias, her atlas, the numbers Runa Hyde had given her and her beloved sextant. The doors of the stable shuddered.
"Amelia Rose Holden, let me in right now!" Mr. Holden yelled. It was so shameful of him to be scolding her like a child.
"I'm busy right now! Wait patiently." Her breath was ragged as the fear raced through her. There was no way she could give up now. There was a change of clothes in the closet. They were dirty—a white shirt and dark gray pants fit for a young stable boy. She took them. Mr. Holden continued to pound on the door as pulled the chemise off over her head. In one of the drawers were bandages for the horses. She wrapped them tight around her breasts. She donned her new clothes. The pants fit snuggly around her hips and stomach, but the shirt was surprisingly big on her, and fell down to her mid-thigh, disguising her curves. If this was as much of a man's world as she had been raised to believe, then maybe Amelia Rose would have to play the game for herself. See what all that hype was about.
She took the scissors up, gathered her hair in a bunch and cut her hair down to the nape of her neck. Then she tied her saddlebags together and looped them around her shoulders. Mr. Holden's black handkerchief concealed her plump lips. She loosened the plank.
The door slammed open. Mr. Holden cursed as he kicked her diversions out of the way. Then he went completely silent as she climbed astride on Aries. He stumbled back at the sight of her chemise on the floor in a pile of her beloved hair.
Mr. Holden paused, "Wh-what is the meaning this? Get off that animal and get back into the house."
"You disgust me." She kicked Aries in the side. "Yah!" Aries walked, and then began to slowly pick up speed. Mr. Holden dived out of the way to avoid being trampled. His body hit the grass and he tumbled. He picked himself back up and raced after her. Snapping the reins, she urged Aries out through the gardens. Mr. Holden caught up, close enough to brush his fingertips against Aries' back. Aries hopped, upset, but Holden raced forward again and reached out. He caught a handful of Amelia Rose's baggy shirt and tugged at it. Amelia Rose shouted and tried to pull herself away. Aries stumbled into a raised bed of rotten tomatoes.
Mr. Holden's eyes were green like venom. "You can't leave! You don't understand!"
Aries slowed down, but pulled forward, causing Mr. Holden to falter and the shirt to slip from his hands. In a last effort, he raced out and tugged back on Aries' tail. Aries screamed. He spun around. Amelia Rose held tight, still trying to urge Aries to run, but he refused. He whipped his head towards Mr. Holden and snapped his teeth. Mr. Holden fell back, crushing a patch of creeping flowers. Aries swung a heavy hoof, tossing Holden to the side like a pile of rags. Mr. Holden hollered, covering his head as he rolled in the flowers. He cursed. Aries spun back around. Amelia Rose looked back at Holden. Hopefully this was the last she saw of her husband. "I'm sorry. I can't help you."
Without a moment of hesitation, she urged Aries forward again. Fully agitated, he broke out into a canter.
Just like that, she was almost free. She and Aries raced to the outskirts and past the mine, where her heart lurched at the sight of The Princess of Aydesreve. She thought they had left hours before, but it was only now that they were making their preparations to leave. From the look, they'd be gone before she could think of Aiden again. Funny that he was fleeing this town the same time she was.
When Amelia Rose reached the lighthouse, she hitched Aries and ran up the exterior staircase. The nurse opened the door. She barely recognized Amelia Rose.
"Good afternoon."
It was only then that Amelia Rose saw the tears streaked on the nurse's face. Amelia Rose gasped. "What happened?'
No answer.
"Where's Miss Hyde?"
"U—upstairs."
Amelia Rose nodded apprehensively and headed up the stairs.
"Wait!" The nurse called. "Don't go up there, Miss. You can't."
Amelia Rose's eyes darted back to the nurse. Her skin prickled and flushed. It was not so often that she became terrified by a few words. "Why not?"
The nurse couldn't say it.
"Why not?" Amelia Rose raised her voice.
Despite her best efforts, the nurse was still lost for words.
Amelia Rose raced up the stairs. "Wait!" The nurse shrieked. Amelia Rose entered her fake grandmother's room. Runa sat in her chair, just like she always did.
But the blood. The window was broken. The glass was shoved into her stomach. There was blood on the floor and on the wall. Her eyes were hollow. Not in the way that they used to be. Now they were a shell—a shell that once cradled the soul of someone that she trusted. A shell of her mother's past—the last and only shell left. And it was as if all of a sudden, she was seeing her own mother's corpse lying in front of her, dripping blood and paling.
Amelia Rose collapsed on the floor and scraped her knee on a piece of glass. She didn't feel the pain. The guttural wails were the only thing she felt, rising out of her like steam. She pounded her fist against the floor. Then she lay, curled up like a fetus until all the water had drained from her body. Her mouth formed the same word over and over again in spite of herself, why, why, why.
When she rose up, her eyes were still blurry with tears, but she could make out Runa's notebook on the table. She crawled over to it. The same numbers Runa gave her were etched all though out the book, over and over again without ceasing. Yet buried in the center-fold, she found a page that made her body shudder.
Joshua Kraz Holden. Joshua Kraz Holden. Joshua Kraz Holden.
Joshua Kraz Holden. Joshua Kraz Holden. Joshua Kraz Holden.
Joshua Kraz Holden. Joshua Kraz Holden. Joshua Kraz Holden.
Joshua Kraz Holden. Joshua Kraz Holden. Joshua Kraz Holden.
"The sheriff is coming." The nurse's voice was fragile. She refused to look at Runa.
"I need to go." Amelia Rose ran for the door, fingernails pressed into her palm, tears cooling her face. "Don't tell them that I was here."
"Are you okay?"
"No! My grandmother! My—my husband! I have to go." Amelia Rose stopped on the stairwell. "What happened?" She looked back at the nurse.
"I don't know. I really don't know. She just kind of snapped and he had to put her--"
"Enough," Amelia Rose shook her head. "I've heard enough."
But as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she started to wonder who he was. It wouldn't help her now. The sheriff was on his way. Her tears dried up when they met with the noonday sun. She slipped Runa's notebook into the saddlebags. Aiden's flyer was at the top of the bag. She took it out and read it again. The word navigator caught her eye. Before feeling brave, she stared at it for quite some time. She sighed and crammed the paper back into the bag. It all hurt too much. Leaving hurt too much. They were probably already on their merry way none the wiser of what had happened.
She looked back at Aries. She took a handful of his mane and brought him close to her. Tears burned her cheeks.
"I love you," she said. She brushed his hair back. "You are the dearest friend I have." She didn't know if Aries knew what she was saying, but she liked to believe that he did, and that he could feel the same grief that she did, whelming her body like she was nothing but a small, fragile porcelain cup.
She pulled his riding tack off and tossed it on the ground. "Go. Be free." She patted his rump before turning from him.
She had to try. She tied her hair back with a leather strap and pulled her handkerchief up so that it covered her lips. As the sun lifted high, she trudged down the mine and imagined that she was a wanderer who had been traveling the Tranan Desert for years. She walked until her name was a mystery to her lips. She walked until she was thirsty and in want of water.