Pollyanna murmured with her cheek pressed against the edge of Eory’s mattress, as if she were still in the past and trying to fall asleep in the rain, “It’s cold.” Eory could have sworn he felt a raindrop on his cheek as she said it—being as imaginative as he was.
The young girl tried to fall asleep under the cascading, freezing liquid, to no avail. She thought that the only thing colder than the rain upon her cheek, was the indifference of her mother—who couldn’t care less whether the girl were sleeping in a soft bed or in a watery creek.
Eory mused to himself as he gnawed his arm.
Poetry at a time like this
! Taylor interrupted.
“Quiet, you…” Eory whispered.
When Pollyanna cocked her head to the side, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “If you’re cold… You can sit up here with me.”
Pollyanna smiled softly. She stroked her chin. She glanced up at the ceiling briefly, and then back to Eory—pretending like it was a difficult decision. She swung herself on top of the bed.
She paused, momentarily, with either knee on either side of Eory’s hips—intending to roll to his side—but he impulsively grabbed her arm with one hand and, staying her where she was.
The old woman was frozen like a statue.
She breathed heavily; she felt like she did on the rare occasion that an enemy soldier managed to disarm her in combat.
Where does this confidence come from?
Taylor wondered sarcastically.
From you.
Eory replied, holding Pollyanna’s gaze with his own seductively.
Playing with a woman who could be killed by such actions? To think I thought you were good and boring!
Taylor exclaimed excitedly.
His body was filled with passion that he didn’t know what to do with.
I don’t want to play with her. I want to make love to her
. Eory admitted to both himself and Taylor.
Whatever that entails… I’m sure I can figure it out.
But his passion was nothing compared to the passion that Pollyanna felt; the passion she
knew
what to do with. She was not an imaginative woman, but she was now.
Eory’s eyes roamed over her body and made her feel like the most wanted woman on Yharos; particularly when they rested on her chest which was slightly exposed due to the loose neckline on her gown.
He ran an elegant hand through her rough hair. He murmured in a sing-song voice. “Got my hand through it…” Pollyanna giggled as it got stuck in tangle the further down it went in her hair.
She waved a finger at him. “Not quite.”
Eory was only provoked by her coy manner; he sat up—gently pushing her down on the foot of the bed as he did so. There was a sharp pain in her heart that she barely noticed because it was beating with such pleasure. She closed her eyes and turned her face on her cheek with a delighted sigh.
Eory surveyed her body with delight, incredibly impressed by how muscular it was--how surprisingly curvy it was under her clothes. It was scarred, but that just made it more worldly to him--more desirable--because he craved that worldliness.
Her chest heaved up and down. His eyes were glued to it.
He desired to press his hand to it--but was too nervous to follow through. Pollyanna opened her eyes and saw him looking; she lifted his thin wrist and placed his hand on her breast.
Eory’s head felt light with pleasure; he was willing to kill her in that moment to follow through with that pleasure. His imagination drove him crazy with what lay beneath her nightgown. A soft moan—a low uttering of his name--escaping her lips drove him madder.
His lips came close to hers with some small restraint.
Pollyanna grinned. She murmured in a low, sultry tone, “You’re not willing to kill me to get what you want?”
A dark impulse nearly spurred him on. An
irresistible
impulse.
She’s mine! Why shouldn’t I be able to do what I wish with her?
His eyes went wild; a maniacal grin took hold of his face.
Pollyanna recognized the look and was intrigued by it. She realized she may very well die if she didn’t shove him off, but she oddly didn’t care.
Either way I’ll have gotten something I want
. She thought to herself.
If he stops, I’ll live. If he continues, I’ll die happy.
Eory noticed his hand was digging too deeply into her breast. He gasped retreating to the other side of the bed. He didn't know what had come over him.
Pollyanna was slightly disappointed as she sat up. He looked upon her like a treasure he could not have.
It was frustrating. Almost as frustrating as wanting her to be who he wanted her to be.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and sunk his teeth into his arm. “Continue.”
Pollyanna grinned, obliging.
__
Fourteen-year-old Pollyanna awoke to find that her clothes were sopping wet. She groaned as the sun, partially covered by gray clouds, hurt her tired eyes.
She blinked once and saw darkness; she blinked twice and saw her mother standing over her. Her face was not stony and cold as it usually was. She looked embarrassed and regretful. “Pollyanna, there was no reason for you to run away and worry us to death…” Her mother began.
Pollyanna’s face was gray and emotionless as she listened.
“What you saw—it’s nothing to worry about. He’s your husband, after all. He cares for no one else but you.” Her mother continued. “What he has with me is…”
Pollyanna blinked slowly. She rigidly climbed to her feet. Her cloak was heavy with rainwater. It drizzled from her cloak as she moved toward town. Her mother watched her in silent shock for a moment as Pollyanna walked away from her.
She trailed her daughter after she recovered from her shock. “Pollyanna, where are you going?”
There was silence but for the gravel being crunched underneath Pollyanna’s boots.
All the girl could say was, “Go away. You disgust me.”
Her mother stopped in her tracks.
She didn’t follow her daughter after that.
__
The townspeople gave Pollyanna odd looks as she passed them by.
They wondered where this noble girl with deep circles under her eyes, disheveled hair, and a sopping wet cloak was going.
Not even Pollyanna knew where she was going.
She left the town without greeting any of the friends she knew from parties and festivals and approached the mountain where she had kissed Rory in the distance.
She scaled it easily, hugging her knees when she reached the top.
Normally, she would be delighted by the rainbow spread across the sky and the beautiful, golden-edged clouds framing the mountains in the distance. It was as if it were a painting come to life.
Instead, she felt nothing but sickness inside.
She realized that she still felt very tired.
She curled up on her side and went back to sleep.
__
“Get up.” Kline nudged her with the tip of his boot.
Pollyanna groaned and rolled over.
“Get up!” Kline said furiously.
He seized her arm, hauling her to her feet.
“You’re a woman now. You can’t spend your time pouting like a child! You could catch a cold sitting out in the rain like this!” Kline dug his fingers into her arm so roughly that she was sure it would bruise. There was a time she would have whimpered at that.
Now, she yanked her arm away. “Don’t touch me.”
“What did you say?” Kline demanded.
He drew himself to his full height.
She smirked as she realized for the first time since they had been married that he was only barely taller than her.
“Is this funny to you?” Kline rose his hand.
Pollyanna knitted her brows. “What will you do to me? Will you hit me? Call me names? Rape me? Kill me? You’ve done all of these things but the last; there are no other ways you can hurt me. So why don’t you kill me? Throw me off the mountain, cut my throat… I’m sure the guards will come looking for me. So do it; I’ll die happy knowing that you would be thrown in the dungeon.”
Kline slammed his knuckles into her stomach.
Her knees buckled. She cradled her stomach. Weakly, she climbed to her feet unsteadily in a moment.
“I could divorce you.” Kline whispered threateningly. “No more good meals. No more fancy clothes. No more… Soft sighs.”
Kline murmured, pulling her up against him.
“You have my mother for that.” Pollyanna spat, shoving him away. “I don’t care whether you divorce me. I only married you to support my mother.”
Pollyanna paused—her eyes flicking from the ground and then back to Kline’s face. “Why would you do this? It’s not enough that you have to own and rape me, but you have to have my mother, too? Does this make you feel powerful? Were you a tiny noble? Did the other nobles laugh at you and your comparative lack of wealth? Is that what this is about?”
Kline was stunned at her sudden boldness.
His look of shock turned into a dark rage. “I won’t divorce you; I’ll lock you in the manor and use you only what you were meant to be used for.”
Angry tears cascaded down Pollyanna’s cheeks in response.
“You’ll go to the underworld and you’ll be torn apart by thousands of monsters for this.” Pollyanna replied.
__
After they reached the bottom of the mountain, Kline was dragging Pollyanna along by the arm toward the town.
Pollyanna had very few options.
She could try to fight him now and perhaps get away, but to what end? She had nowhere to go but to the nearest convent.
Similarly, she could attempt to show the guards in the town her bruises so she could get a lawful divorce, but she wasn’t sure the bruises she just got would show up just yet. She wasn’t even sure the guards would take her side.
For both of these options, her mother would likely end up on the street, which brought Pollyanna to tears. She impulsively decided to take her chances here and now.
She elbowed Kline in the side and sprinted south where the convent lay.
She gasped and panted as she ran.
She looked back and saw that Kline was not pursuing her.
He merely stood still with an oddly restrained expression on his face.
Her heart was beating with joy as she put more and more inches between herself and Kline.
I’m free… I’m free!
She didn’t care about having to live the rest of her life in a convent; all she cared about was being free.
Until she remembered Rory.
When she remembered Rory, she sobbed horribly, but kept running.
__
An hour or so passed.
Pollyanna’s legs were getting tired as she walked through a land so silent that she thought she might be the only one upon it.
Even the chilly breeze had died down. The only sounds left were her heavy breathing and the sound of gravel flying beneath her feet.
Nothing but dirt and an open road were stretched ahead of her as far as the eye could see. She had been running as often as she could to put as much distance between her and the town, but she had slowed down to a crawl. Her legs ached.
Thundering in the distance abruptly filled her ears.
Her eyes widened. There was no storm in the sky.
She looked behind her.
Pollyanna saw the distant silhouettes of horses charging toward her.
She pushed herself to running despite the fact that her legs were aching; her vision was wobbly.
Frightened tears relentlessly fell from her red eyes--obscuring her vision.
The thundering was fast approaching.
In front of her, she saw no convent; she saw no buildings or people at all. It was just her and the fast-approaching horsemen behind her. She was still far away from it. The gap between the horsemen and their quarry was fast closing.
A cloud of dust flew under the horses’ hooves as they began encircling Pollyanna to block her escape. One of the horses dashed in front of Pollyanna, blocking her path with a resounding whinny.
She recognized the town guards atop the horses; more than that, she recognized Kline riding on the back of one of the horses. One of the knights dismounted, holding a piece of rolled up parchment in hand.
He unfurled it in front of Pollyanna and asked, “Is this your wedding contract?”
“Yes, but—” Pollyanna began, about to show them her bruises.
“Then you are this man’s wife. He could punish you for this, you know.” The guard chided her.
“Please listen!” Pollyanna begged. “This man has been abusing me! In the eyes of Renthas, that makes the marriage null and void! It’s enough to warrant a divorce!”
The knight raised an eyebrow. “Show me your bruises, girl.”
Pollyanna showed the knight her arm where Kline had grabbed her roughly, and then lifted her blouse to show the knight an ugly green bruise beginning to form on her stomach.
“I see nothing.” The knight said stoically.
“What? But—”
“Come with me, girl.” The knight grabbed her by the arm and lifted her up onto the horse.
The world swam in Pollyanna’s eyes.
__
“I learned later that they had taken a bribe from Kline, because why wouldn’t they?” Pollyanna snorted. “The things people are willing to sell for a few gold pieces…”
Eory listened silently.
Yharos is ugly. Yharos should burn.
Taylor thought his ugliest thoughts for him.