I stopped talking to Natalia after the ball.
To be fair, I stopped talking to everyone as my wedding approached—scowls, glares, and pouts proved more than capable of conveying my thoughts and feelings. Everyone already thought I was a miserable spoiled bitch; I could at least prove them correct and make life as difficult as possible for them.
It was the only act of resistance I had left against a terribly unfair, cruel world. Mother had officially put Selene in charge of my behavior until my wedding night, and the majordomo's constant vigilance meant I couldn't do
anything
to let off steam. No sneaking around, no pilfering, no careful sabotage. Even looking like I was
thinking
about misbehaving was all it took to get Mary's iron grip clamping down on my shoulder. Quiet sulking was all I had left. They could make me participate in my own ritual humiliation, but they couldn't make me do it with a smile on my face.
To work around my reluctance, the rest of Natalia's 'courtship' was organized in such a way to briefly show everyone we were together before hustling us off to a private locale. A public show of us entering a carriage that proceeded to drive away to a remote vista for a picnic. Afternoon tea in the castle gardens where we were made to go onto the balcony and hold hands for a few minutes before tasting scones and finger sandwiches in bitter silence. Tournaments where Natalia jousted, dueled, and fenced while I slouched in a secluded spectator box. The knight initially tried conversing with me during our outings, but gave up when it became clear I was making a conscious, consistent effort to ignore her.
I almost felt a little bad for her, seeing how lost and uncomfortable she looked on those occasions. But engaging with her meant doing what my mother and Janice and every other pompous schemer wanted, and I simply could not allow that. The thought of one of our many chaperones reporting on how we'd 'made progress' or 'started warming to one another' was too grim for me to risk speaking up.
Yet every withheld word and prevented act of misbehavior seemed to build up within me, like dark clouds gathering before a massive storm. I started sleeping late and staying up even later, while my appetite practically ceased to exist.
My wedding day itself was worst of all—my entourage of servants doubled as the wardens of my own personal prison, blocking me in with their bodies and fastening an elaborate, restrictive dress to my willowy frame. I was more tempted than ever before to break my mutism then, to scream and swear and spit and decry the sick spectacle of my
enslavement
. But I knew there would be no point. Even still, I was practically trembling with anger when I walked the flower-choked aisle and stood at the altar, half expecting the fire in my eyes to singe my veil.
The festivities dragged on, with hours spent on feasts and songs and endless lines of idiot reject nobles offering congratulations and trying not to burst into tears. I made a point of showing as little affection as I possibly could to Natalia, holding her hand by the tip of a single finger or kissing the air right in front of her lips.
By the time it was over, the sun had long since set and I had long since blocked out the world entirely. A carriage arrived to take Natalia and I to our new estate. Mother spoke to us before we left, stressing the importance of consummating the marriage and telling Natalia firm discipline was necessary to keep me under control. The knight nodded along, though to her credit I could tell her jaw was tight with displeasure.
Just like the months before it, the carriage ride elapsed in silence. We arrived at our manor—a relatively simple home compared to the castle, but nevertheless one with plenty of redundant rooms and finely crafted furniture—and our new servant staff led us to our bedroom.
Natalia paused at the doorway and turned to look at me, her delicate brow furrowed. "I have no intention of forcing you to do anything. I know today was incredibly difficult for you, and I respect—"
I went into the bedroom, slammed the door shut behind me, and locked Natalia out.
After a moment, I heard her sigh and walk away.
The room was like a stranger wearing familiar clothes; a majority of my belongings had been moved in already, the same wide bed and deep blue silks feeling far less inviting in their new circumstances. High ceilings and tall, arched windows provided the space and dim light necessary to cast long, creeping shadows. In the corner, a small collection of Natalia's things were stacked in a neat pile. A few unlabeled boxes along with all sorts of fine glassware and delicacies she'd received as wedding gifts.
Seeing
her
things in
my
room caused the month's collective tension to finally become too great. I snapped.
Barely able to see what I was doing with the tears in my eyes, I unlocked the nearest window with a harsh shove and yanked it open. Cool night air caressed my face and ruffled the skirts of my wedding gown—I hadn't yet had time to change. The breeze barely registered with me. I felt numb. I had officially been cast off by my family, dumped out of sight and out of mind in exchange for them gaining a minute amount of political capital. I hadn't been in control of my past and I had no real control over my future. So why should I be expected to control myself in the present?
My hand wrapped around the neck of a wine bottle—one of the gifts Natalia had received. I chucked it out of the window as hard as I could with a cathartic scream, the vocal rage not-quite covering up the sound of shattering glass. If my wife thought we could share a space or cohabitate, she was
dead
wrong.
I grabbed a second wine bottle and sent it the way of the first, followed by a music box, several plates, and a tunic. Hearing them clatter against the cobblestone path below did nothing to relieve my anger, which was perfectly fine by me—I had
every right
to stew.
A servant knocked on the door and asked if I was alright. I ignored him.
A ceremonial rapier, a set of inkwells and pens, and a violin flew out into the night before landing with a crash.
Several servants conversed behind the door in hushed tones, trying the doorknob and finding it locked.
"
GO AWAY!"
I shrieked. They did.
Fancy linens, books about famous battles, and a portrait of me soared to their demise. My arms and shoulders began to ache, though they trembled less from exhaustion and more from the stupid
damn
injustice of this world finally getting to me.
A much stronger knock on the door. Natalia's voice, tired and a little bit exasperated. "Penelope?
I increased my pace, lobbing handfuls of loose objects around the room without even seeing what they were. Most of them no longer cleared the window, instead forming a maelstrom of chaos centered around a girl who was terribly, horribly alone.
A set of keys jingled. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Natalia unlocked the bedroom door and came in. I whipped around, intending to lash out as a preemptive defense. Best to start things off as they would no doubt continue, I supposed.
But when I took in Natalia, I didn't see Selene's terse disappointment or my mother's aloof stoicism. Instead, deep concern was written across my wife's face. She wore a loose shift with her hair in a messy bun, and her bare feet were carefully perched away from a crystal tumbler I'd thrown to the floor. Her casual, appearance and calm demeanor was so unexpected I didn't know how to react.
Natalia exhaled ever so slightly, then stepped over discarded wedding gifts to sit on the edge of the bed. "Rough night?"
I clenched my fists. "If you're just here to mock me, then get the hell out of my sight."
But Natalia's expression didn't transform into the sneer I'd expected—if anything, she seemed surprised and a little hurt. "No! That's not...I'm not trying to mock you at all, Penelope. Truly."
My eyes narrowed in suspicion, but I allowed her to continue.
"Sorry. I'm...bad with words, I suppose. Always have been. Hard to find the right ones at the right times." Natalia clasped her hands in her lap to stop her nervous fidgeting.
Whatever elaborate game she was playing, I wasn't interested. "Stop it, Natalia."
"Stop what?"
I crossed my thin arms, spite and the chill making me huddle inward. "This act. You don't have to play the supportive wife anymore." Unexpected tears welled up in my eyes, and my voice rose in volume and pitch erratically. "The courtship is over and we're out of the public eye, so you can stop pretending to care about me. Just
leave me alone like everyone else
."
My throat ached and my chest occasionally heaved from all of my held-in sobs. I kept glaring at Natalia, bracing myself for her screams or punishments.
She gently wrapped one of her strong arms around my waist, then pulled me down onto her lap. Her free hand started stroking my hair, the tips of her fingers lightly scratching and massaging my scalp.
I froze.
This didn't...I wasn't...why was...
why?
Finding no hard edges to bounce off of, my anger deflated into sorrow. The sobs burst forth, somehow both encouraged and eased by Natalia's touch. I didn't understand it, but on a purely physical, primal level, it felt nice. For the time being, that was enough.
An involuntary whimper escaped me. Natalia tightened her hold reassuringly.
I soon ran out of energy to keep my body tense, and relaxed into her. Not long after that, my font of tears dried up and I went quiet. The knight's fingers continued running through my hair throughout, offering soft touch in a steady rhythm. In some moments it seemed like an indignity; in others, a goddess-sent gift. Some moments I was so numb that I barely noticed it. But at no point did I ever seriously consider moving away or asking her to stop.
My breathing grew deep and even and my eyes fluttered closed. To struggle I needed willpower and a target, and in my present situation I had neither. Distantly, I felt Natalia lay me down on my side and tuck me into bed before she left the room.
The click of the door closing behind her was accompanied by a pang in my heart, but sleep was far too close for me to determine what it meant.
