What's Love Got To Do With It? [M] [Coma]

[Wild]

ESSYRN - MEDIEVAL TIMES

The sun rose over the Golden City. In the home of the noble and powerful Bathory family the servants were already busy at their work - cooking, cleaning, running back and forwards as they struggled to get everything perfect.

Today was an important day. The Master of the house, Lord Bathory himself, had announced that this was the wedding day of his youngest daughter Flavia. Lady Bathory had scowled, thinking the girl was still too young for marriage, but what could she do? Her husband had all the power and all the say. After Lady Bathory's beauty had left her face and she grew old, she had no longer influence over him. Everyone knew that he spent more time with his mistresses and his business partners than he did with his wife.

Young Lady Flavia was still asleep in her room, happily ignorant of the fact that her father at this moment was expecting an important guest - her soon-to-be husband. She did not know that her maidservant had been woken from her slumber and now was on her way to the girl's bedroom with orders to prepare her for the wedding ceremony.

In his office in the Bathory Manor Flavia's father sat by his table, reading through the document he just had finished working with. It was a wedding contract for his youngest daughter and her husband. Flavia would have one of the family manors here in Essyrn as her dowry, along with 3000 gold coins. It was a lot of money - but Flavia was the most beautiful child he had ever seen. Though child? She had just reached marrying age. He was quite certain that his treasured little jewel would raise to fame and glory for her beauty alone....

In return for such a beautiful and pure bride he expected protection for his town. He looked forward to see what the groom would bring to honor his part of the contract. Hopefully he would also bring valuable gifts.

With a pleased grin Lord Bathory leaned back in his chair, patiently waiting for Flavia's husband to arrive. The arrangements had been made already. Now the groom only needed to sign the contract, and the wedding events could take place.

[Coma]

**The journey to Golden City had been undertaken mostly in cold, stony silence - at least inside the regal, ornate carriage anyway.  There was no doubt that the guards and servants accompanying the horse-drawn vehicle were excitedly chattering amongst themselves - after all, it wasn't every day that a son of Lord Syron married.  Of course, the young master himself was less than thrilled about the prospect - in fact, he had wanted to ride to the city himself; but Lord Syron had insisted on presenting Rasul to Lord Bathory... much to Rasul's annoyance.**

**Lord Syron cleared his throat, clasping his olive-skinned hands in his lap and leaning forward slightly; studying his oldest son with an almost critical gaze, before giving a nod of approval and a bright smile before speaking.**

"Come, son! This is a joyous day!"

**Rasul turned a scathing glare to his father, his own eyes a matching shade of chocolate-brown as his father's - but far more intense, much more sinister.  They would never say as such to Lord or Lady Syron, but they whispered amongst themselves that there was something deeply wrong with the 25-year-old.  Rasul had absolutely no interest in marriage and by no means approved of his father's plan to ally with the Bathory family by way of marriage.**

**It was also true that Rasul was nothing like his parents.  Lord and Lady Syron were well-known for being exceptionally wealthy and kind-hearted people who loved each other deeply.  Their own marriage was by arrangement and it had worked well enough for them to decide to carry on the ancient tradition with their own children.  Lord Syron was a tall, heavy-set man; his black hair and beard greying with age and his smile almost perpetual and his voice always an over-enthuiastic boom.  In contrast, his wife was a shy, timid woman - by no means ugly, but quite unremarkable in appearance.** 

**Despite these plain roots, Rasul was amazingly handsome - his skin was naturally tanned, his hair well-kept and glossy-black and his form lithe and muscular.  He grew no beard, instead preferring to be clean-shaven or with just a day or two's worth of stubble.  Usually favouring tighter, form-fitting clothes; his father had persuaded him to wear a more traditional loose item - the flowing shirt dyed an expensive and bright purple.  He wore his black trousers still and the well-tailored leather boots.**

**No response was offered to his father - he allowed himself just to drift back into dark thoughts, mentally cursing his predicament... hating his family... hating HER family.  Rasul had decided as soon as his father had cheerily announced that he had found a wife for him that he was going to make the woman's life a nightmare - if he had to be burdened with her, then it was only fair that she despise every single moment of it.  Besides, there was one bright spot - women were inferior and tradition would dictate that she remain obedient and mindful of him.  Of course, he was determined that this mindfulness would only go one way.**

"Ahh! Here we are!"

**The carriage pulled to a neat stop and Rasul watched as his father pulled himself out of his seat and excitedly thanked their guards for their diligence on the journey, issuing orders for the horses to be cared for in that same kind tone and finally instructing a large chest of gold and expensive ornaments to be carried into Lord Bathory's office, hurrying after them and gesturing for Rasul to follow him.  With a long sigh, Rasul let himself slide from the carriage and followed after Lord Syron.  They were met at the heavy wooden doors by a servant and were shown immediately down a series of corridors, until they finally came to a door just up a flight of stairs.  Lord Syron waited long enough for the door to be opened and for them to be announced before he entered the room, with that friendly grin.**

"Lord Bathory!"

**Rasul allowed for the two older men to greet each other, remaining quite silent until his father planted a hand heavily on his shoulder and pulled him forwards.  Rasul dutifully held his hand out for Lord Bathory to take, his manner beginning to take on a amicable charm that was totally removed from his previous dark mood.**

"Good day, Lord Bathory.  I am Rasul."

**His voice was full of confidence and intelligence, something quite unusual ran coldly beneath his tone - but by all accounts, he seemed a perfectly normal young man.  With his family connections, wealth and his remarkable good looks, it seemed that he and Flavia would be a good match for one another - well, at least as far as any outsider could tell.  Lord Syron resumed the conversation neatly, glancing the room curiously before he spoke.**

"So, where is the young lady?  Are we to discuss terms further before they are to meet?  I understand that the dowry for your daughter is all arranged.  I have brought gifts to mark the occasion - my men will leave the chest wherever you prefer.  Obviously, after the wedding, our alliance and protection is granted to your family and lands..."

[Wild]

In the Bathory Family estate, Lord and Lady Bathory received the newly arrived guests with friendly smiles and open arms. If Lady Bathory had second thoughts about her young daughter getting married, she knew her husband would not listen to her protests. He had always done when he wanted, and in this house his word was the law.

"Welcome, friends," Lord Bathory's voice rang cheerful from the room where he and Lady Bathory stood to welcome the recently arrived guests. "Please come on inside. My servants will bring your luggage to your rooms. The best guest rooms of our house stands to your disposal, and anything you wish for will be yours."

He studied the young Lord Syron with interest, a smirk crossing his face when he saw how handsome and well dressed he was. Clearly this was a successful young man who would come far. His daughter would be well off with the Syrons as her future family.

"What an honor to meet you, Rasul," he said as he shook the young man's  hand. "I am Lord Bathory. You and I will be good friends, I am certain. You look like a bright and intelligent young man."

Lady Bathory looked at young Rasul and shuddered inwardly at what she saw. She noticed something cold beneath his tone, and she feared for the future of her daughter. But she knew there was nothing she could do to stop this. The contract was made, the guests were here. And she knew that her husband would make her pay if she caused any trouble....

"Do you want a cup of tea while our husbands sign the contract, Lady Syron?" she offered, taking the woman's arm and wishing to lead her to the salons where the ladies could get to know each other while the men were finishing their business contract.

Lord Bathory waited until the women had left the room, then turned to the men with a smile as Lord Syron asked for the whereabouts of his daughter. "My daughter is in her room at the moment and will be with us in a moment," he said with a smile. "Perhaps you would like to have a look at the contract I have prepared while we are waiting? The amount of gold we agreed on and one of our family mansions here in The Golden City as her dowry. The contract  only needs both our signatures and the wedding will be a fact."

He left the contract in the hands of Lord Syron, allowing him to read it through, and then left a quill and an ink house where the Lord could reach it if he wished to sign. Of course the young Lord Syron would have to sign as well.

He smiled when Lord Syron spoke of the gifts brought to his house. "Your men can leave the chest here in my office," he said with a smile. "This is the safest room in the house.  In the hallway it would be easier exposed to thefts. We have a couple new servants in the house and I don't yet know if they are to be trusted."

Just then a guard entered the room and called out: "Lady Flavia Bathory!"

The door opened, and a young girl who had recently reached marrying age entered the room. Her body was slender built and she was of average height. Even if she was young she already was a great beauty.

Her long, dark hair was arranged in an advanced hairdo that spoke of her noble birth and the wealth of her parents. Her clothes were made of exquisite materials, embroidered with gold threads and decorated with jewels.  Her heart-shaped face was pale and beautifully shaped, her soft lips trembling as she entered the room.

But the most remarkable with her was her eyes: almond-shaped and warm brown of color, surrounded by long, dark eyelashes. Her eyes held a mild and gentle expression, revealing a high intelligence and a warm and caring nature.

"You wished to speak to me, Father?" she asked gently, clearly not understanding why she had been called.

But her father did not reply to her gentle question, instead sending her a stern gaze as if he silently ordered her to obey and not embarrassing him in front of the guests. "This is my daughter Flavia," he said as he introduced the young girl to the guests. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Flavia looked over at the guests, offering a deep curtsy. The confusion was clear in her face. Why had she been called here, and who were these people?

Lord Bathory proudly turned to his two male guests, looking forward to see their reaction now that they had seen the most beautiful treasure of the Bathory family.

[Coma]

**Lord Syron was not observant enough to spot the apprehension on Lady Bathory's face - it likely would have concerned him and driven him to question her if he had.  His wife, Lady Syron, tended to keep her eyes cast downwards; not out of subservience, but out of sheer timidity.  During the whole journey, she had barely said a word to her husband and son and seemed to place herself outside of the contagious excitement of her husband and Lord Bathory.  She imagined that Lady Bathory was just the same.**

**Lord Syron was beaming happily at the Bathorys, turning his attention to Lady Bathory after shaking her husband's hand.  There was no hint of deceitfulness to his voice as he addressed her, just allowing that polite, kind smile and a charming bow of his head; before turning to speak to his wife.**

"How nice to see you again, Lady Bathory.  You're looking as lovely as ever.  My love, do go along with Lady Bathory - it would be good for you both to become friends."

**Lady Syron smiled at her husband, giving a very slight nod of her head; before allowing the other woman to take her arm and lead her away.  Truthfully, although painfully shy, she had no wish to watch the boring business of contract-signing - although, she would have quite liked to meet her future daughter-in-law.  She was hopeful that she and young Lady Bathory could grow to be friends - Lord and Lady Bathory had been blessed with a handful of sons, but no daughters.  Lady Bathory dearly loved all her children, but it would have been nice to have had a daughter...**

**Lord Syron watched as his charismatic son exuded that intense charm at Lord Bathory's introduction.  Rasul was the pride of his family - effortlessly displaying a startling handsomeness, impeccable manners and regal finesse and confidence.   Rasul was smiling indulgently at Lord Bathory, his sharp mind whirring away; forgetting his annoyance at his situation and instead considering instead how he could turn this unfortunate betrothal to his own advantage.  He could see that Lord Bathory was quite keen to remain on his father's good side - and that could be exceptionally beneficial.  It meant that he would be more likely to disregard any complaints his daughter made about him.**

"I am very pleased to meet you, Lord Bathory.  I think we'll get along wonderfully.  My father has told me nothing but good things about you and your family - I look forward to us all being united."

**Lord Syron puffed his substantial chest proudly at his son's words and patted Rasul affectionately on the shoulder.  As far as Lord Syron was concerned, this marriage was going to be mutually beneficial to both families and assist wonderfully in their continued prosperity and continued future - it was expected that Rasul and the young Lady Bathory would produce children.  They would be beautiful, intelligent and carry them forward into a new generation.  How could it be anything but a wonderful thing?**

**Once being informed that the soon-to-be bride would be along shortly, Lord Syron stepped away from Rasul's side to join Lord Bathory in studying the contract.  Although he trusted the other man completely, it always paid to check such important documents - after all, a lot rode on the accuracy of this paper and it was legally binding.  A few moments were spent reading over the documents, that time likely exceptionally tense and fraught for the other man... Rasul showed no emotion at all, remaining as prim and proper as ever and dutifully watching as his father looked over the document.**

**The servants, on Lord Bathory's instruction, heaved the heavy chest to a barren corner and quickly left to assist in tending to the horses and carriage outside.  It would be up to the Lord later to look through the weighty chest and the treasures that resided therein - knowing Lord Syron's generosity and kindness, he would not be disappointed.  After a few moments, Lord Syron took the quill between his chubby fingers and neatly signed the document, before offering both the scroll and quill to his son with an encouraging nod of his head.**

"It is all in order, Rasul."

**Despite his father's assurance, Rasul did allow a few moments to read over the document himself - it was better that then be tied legally into something that he had no intention to deliver.  As it was, the contract seemed to be as fair as his father had outlined to him.  However, even after he had finished reading the document; he forced himself to delay - pretending to deeply consider the legalities outlined before him.  He wanted to see the woman who he would be stuck with for the rest of his life...**

**After only a moment, a servant entered the room and loudly announced Lord Bathory's daughter and those thoughtful, deep brown eyes lifted toward the door as the young lady entered.  A moment was spent studying her... she was beautiful - there was no getting away from that.  Everything about her was flawless and enchanting; her skin was as perfect as fine porcelain, her eyes holding an intriguing spark of intellect and kindness.  Of course, she was only just old enough to be married - but that didn't trouble him too much.  There was a brief moment of hesitation, his cruel mind settling on signing himself into this wedding - if only because he had immediately felt that he could quite easily manhandle her into obedience and loyal subservience.  He signed the document quickly, handing it back to Lord Bathory, while keeping his gaze intent on Flavia.**

**She spoke, but her father's glance sent her into silence - an indication that Rasul's belief that she would easily be placed under thumb was quite accurate.  His own father had also fallen into stunned silence for just a moment, before that benevolent smile was back and he offered his hand to the young lady, brushing a very chaste, gentlemanly brush of his lips against the back of her hand if she accepted the gesture.**

"Why, you're a credit to your family, my dear.  It's so very nice to meet you, Lady Flavia."

**Immediately allowing his hand to drop back to his side, Lord Syron turned his impressed gaze back to Lord Bathory, not hesitating to give a nod in agreement to the other man, who was obviously exceptionally proud of his beautiful daughter.**

"She is stunning.  I think she and Rasul will make a fine match."

**The implication became clumsily clear then - something that no doubt Flavia would understand.  Rasul gave a cold smile to Flavia as both their father's conversed.  By all three men signing the document, her future was sealed - women had no rights to their own lives in this day and age and so she would have no say in any ceremony destined to take place.  For now, though, it would pay to be genteel and courteous to the girl - if only to assure her father that she was quite safe with him... and so, he spoke; his voice calm and thoughtful... but with that callous, icy edge that her mother had spotted earlier.  Yet, he gave no indication on their upcoming nuptials - that was up to her father to explain to her.**

"You are very beautiful, Lady Flavia.  I am Rasul."

[josephalexandre]

Treading briskly upon the dust-filled roads of the Golden City, the young predicant found himself strangely drawn to this ancient civilization amidst the boiling desert. While it was true that his arrival had been met with some rather boastful responses from native Essyrni, Joseph assumed that by showing these people as much common courtesy and respect as they felt entitled to, his presence had become bearable at least; even if no one had so far graced him with their friendship on a more personal level.

Regardless of his attempts made to approach their culture in every way plausible for a man of Connlaothean nature, he remained very much a foreigner - and the difference was blatant between his conservative upbringing and the culture owned by the prideful creatures inhabiting the evergreen and golden-colored region.

All of this made the priest very thankful of the two families Bathory and Syron, whose destiny were soon to become one family, twice as large. And, he dearly hoped, twice as happy too, once their young ones were indeed married off to one another.

Altough it was still an early morning, the rising sun were already quite hot as Lord Bathory's elaborate mansion at last presented itself to his eyes; inviting him to step through the tall gates, and to gingerly approach the front doors.
"Tell your master that Father Joseph Alexandre has arrived," he gently suggested toward the servant whom was greeting him by the doorstep. "I believe he is expecting me."

[Wild]

Lady Bathory liked Lady Syron at first glance. It seemed like these two women had lots in common: They both lived in arranged marriages, only Lady Syron's marriage seemed to be a happy one. Lady Bathory, however, had discovered that as her beauty faded so did her husband's interest in her. Now she had to share him with numerous mistresses, and she was expected to treat each of these mistresses with friendliness and respect. Even if some of her husband's favorites did not show her any kind of respect in return. True, she lacked no material goods - but still she lived like in a cage.

And now her husband had decided to marry off their young daughter in the same kind of loveless marriage... Lady Bathory shuddered, but she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop this event from happening. She didn't like the young man her husband had chosen for their daughter. There was something cold about him, that made her fear for her daughter's future happiness. She felt instinctively that her daughter would now be sentenced to the same kind of loveless marriage she herself had been through.

But she knew she could not protest. Her husband would punish her brutally if she ever did anything that ruined his chances of a good business deal. He had even threatened to cut her off from any contact with her daughter if she did not behave and allowed this wedding arrangement to take place. So Lady Bathory remained silent and obeyed. Her duty was to take care of Lady Syron and be a good hostess. If the Lady enjoyed her stay here, Lady Bathory had a small hope that perhaps Lady Syron at least could be of some help and support for young Flavia in her new home.

Lady Bathory smiled a faint and timid smile when Lord Syron greeted her, giving him the deep curtsy as he bowed to her. "Welcome to our home, Lord and Lady Syron," she replied, trying to sound as pleased as her husband demanded. "I hope you all will enjoy your stay here..."

As  Lord Syron again turned to her husband, Lady Bathory brought Lady Syron to the salon in the room next to this. The ladies could sit there and chat, getting to know each other while the men went through the business deal together. Lady Bathory hoped to win Lady Syron's favor. If she succeeded at least Flavia would have Lady Syron's support in the married life ahead of her.

Lord Bathory had forgotten his wife the moment she left the room. He knew she would do her part, winning the sympathy of Lady Syron for them. A mother-in-law would have great influence on his daughter's future life, and make sure the girl behaved in her new life as a married woman. His own attention was on the Lords Syron, both father and son. He responded to Rasul's smile with a smile of his own. That boy had a good head on his shoulder, and he was quite good-looking too. Strong, brave and muscular. What girl wouldn't dream of a man like him?

"I am certain we'll get along wonderfully too, Rasul," he replied and gave the boy's shoulder a friendly pat. "I look forward for our families to get united too. In addition to the manor you receive as a wedding present in the contract, I have also managed to find a way to grant you a yearly income of 30 000 gold coins for as long as you are married to my daughter. In the case of a divorce however, the money will return to the Bathory Family. What do you think of such a surprise for your wedding?"

Seeing how Lord Syron puffed his substantial chest proudly, he smiled and patted the elder man's back. "You have every right to be proud of your son, dear friend," he said with a smile. "A bright young man. He and my daughter will be able to produce many lovely children."

He allowed Lord Syron to read the documents carefully. He knew that not all young couples had promise of a regular income of 30 000 gold coins a year, but he wanted to see the young man before making such a promise. Now that he had seen the boy however, he knew that he would be a wonderful man for young Flavia. His precious little gem of a daughter was worth such a price.  Had she not already gained the reputation as the most beautiful young woman in the Bathory family for generations? None of her sisters or cousins could hold a candle to her.

While the two Syron men inspected the contract and his daughter, Lord Syron inspected the content of the heavy chest. A broad smile of content washed over his face when he saw the treasuries within. "My dear Lord Syron, this is even better than you wrote in the contract," he said, patting Lord Syron on the back. "I must say it is indeed a pleasure to do business with you..."

He grinned as he saw Rasul's hesitation to sign the document - just like Lord Bathory himself had done before marrying Lady Bathory. "Ah, you want to see your bride before signing," he chuckled. "That only shows you have a good head on your shoulder...."

As young Flavia shyly entered the room it was his turn to puff his chest in fatherly pride. The girl showed the grace and beauty he had trained her to all her life, and he watched Rasul's face expression as he studied the girl. "Isn't she beautiful?" he said to both men with pride in his voice. "The White Gem of Essyrn is what the servants call her. She has barely reached marrying age, so she is pure and untouched by men. She is also kind, loving and obedient. I have no doubt she will be a good wife."

He grinned as also Rasul quickly signed the contract before handing it back to him. "I knew you would like her, young friend," he said. "As soon as the priest has performed the rituals she will be all yours.  I made sure to give you a room with a double bed, and the servants will not disturb unless you call for them."

Young Flavia blushed deeply at the stares of the two Syron men, her blushing increasing when Lord Syron the elder brushed a gentlemanly kiss against the back of her hand. She responded to his greeting with a deep curtsy as she had been taught.

"It is an honor to meet you, Mylord," she stuttered, still uncertain of who these men were and what they were doing in her family home.

The girl watched as the elderly man turned back to her father, her fine brows  arching when she heard his words about her and a certain Rasul making a fine match.

Who is Rasul? she thought. I don't know anyone by that name... Who are these men, and why are they here?

Her questions were answered a few moments later, when the young man standing beside the elderly gentleman continued staring at her. He looked quite handsome, but when he spoke, Flavia heard a callous, icy edge in his voice - an edge that made her tremble inwardly. Her face paled when she realized that this young man was Rasul - the man she had heard would be a good match for her.

"I-It's an honor to meet you, Lord R-Rasul," she stuttered and offered a deep curtsy, sending her father a quick glance of slight desperation.

"Yes, this is Lord Rasul Syron," her father replied calmly, without even bothering about the slowly rising panic in her eyes. "Today is your wedding day, and Rasul Syron will be your husband."

Flavia's face paled, and she threw her father a pleading glance.

Please father, don't put me through this, she silently pleaded. He is evil - I can feel it. Please, father, don't make me marry him! I'll marry anyone you say except from him!

By the front door, a servant opened the door to let in the recently arrived Priest. He was escorted into the office where Lord Bathory received him without acknowledging Flavia's silent pleads.

"Ah, the Priest has arrived," he called out in his deep voice. "Then gentlemen, if you are ready, let the wedding begin. Priest, do your job. You will receive your payment after the ceremony."

Taking Flavia's hand, he sent her a stern gaze before placing her hand in the hand of Rasul - the token that she now belonged to Rasul, as soon as the wedding Ritual was over.

Flavia saw the gaze her father sent her and knew that the battle was lost before it had started. If she uttered one word of protest that would ruin the marriage her father had carefully planned for her, she knew she would be severely punished. Without another word of protest she placed her tiny hand in Rasul's under her father's watchful gaze. The tiny hand holding the young man's was pale and delicate, and at the moment it trembled from an unknown fear.

[Coma]

**The two ladies, Bathory and Syron, were very similar in many ways... they lived in a dreadful time when women had very view rights and, with that in mind, both were incredibly lucky to be born into respectful families and married to equally respectable men.  Well, at least Lord Syron was respectable and caring - Lady Syron knew very little about Lord Bathory in that regard.  Had she more knowledge, she likely would not be nearly as keen on his methods - but, when it came down to it, she would still be quite powerless to do much about it.  The matter of arranged marriages were a man's domain and she had little say in it.  For that reason, she was glad that she had no daughters... it would have been dreadful to arrange such an event for a frightened young girl.  Her stoic son was another matter - he seemed to be showing precious little emotion over the whole situation.**

**Her heart did go out to Lady Bathory - it must have been so horrible to give her daughter away... she made it a point to assure the other lady that things would be all right and that everything would work out for the best.  Still, there was an odd feeling between Lord and Lady Bathory though - something that hinted that their marriage wasn't quite as rosy as Lord and Lady Syron's.  Good manners and decorum obviously meant that Lady Syron would never voice these observations to her new friend; but perhaps she could eventually be a friend for the other to talk to - and she was quite happy to act as a conduit between Lady Bathory and her daughter.**

**With those lingering thoughts, Lady Syron was quite happy to accompany her new acquaintance to the  salon, leaving the two men and her son behind to work out the details for the future of their children.  The two ladies could only hope that their respective offspring got the best possible deal out of this marriage.**

**Once the two women left the room, Lord Syron turned his attention steadfastly back to the matter in hand, his demeanour remaining completely friendly; but with that professional edge that had served him so well throughout his life.  Unlike the younger man, though, Lord Syron's thoughts were rarely far from his wife - he truly did adore her and couldn't imagine life without her.  Although her beauty had faded since the day of their marriage, many years ago; he had held no mistresses and nor ever would.  He hoped for this same sort of marriage for all his sons.  It would have hurt him to know that, despite the impeccable example that he and his wife had set, Rasul was cruel and harsh in the way he thought of and reacted towards women.**

**Unlike his parents who had remained chaste right up until the beginning of their marriage, Rasul had experienced women before.  This was perhaps exactly why he hated the idea of being tied to a single woman - it felt like a deprivation of freedom and horribly unfair.  He cared very little how the poor young girl felt in all this - as far as he was concerned, if he had to be miserable; then she certainly had to join him in that.  Both the older men were quite enthusiastic in patting him and spouting about how prosperous they were sure this wedding was going to be.  Rasul just smiled and nodded where it was appropriate to do so...**

**...Well, up until Lord Bathory spoke about the wedding gift he planned to give him and his new pride.  30,000 gold coins a year...?!  That... was a lot of money... enough to instantly neutralise the very possibility of divorce from his mind.  No... he would have to keep the stupid little girl around.  Of course, there was the option of driving her insane - pushing her to the very limit of her tolerance and then gently encouraging her to escape him by killing herself.  By that method, Rasul would be free of her and would still receive that stipend from his new father-in-law and could go back to living his own life as he wanted before he got too old.  His devious mind had jumped to this plan immeasurably quickly; his scheming thoughts contradicting the actual words that passed his lips coolly.**

"That is very generous, Lord Bathory.  I'm sure your daughter and I will be very happy to start our married life with our finances assured."

**The subject of children drove a cold shudder through him; which was commendably well-hidden.  Rasul had never had plans to have any - but he would wager that such a thing was written into the contract he and his father had drawn up.  Joining the Syron family, his father would likely have insisted on their family line being continued - ideally by his new bridge producing a son.  A daughter would only continue her future husband's family line and so was comparably worthless.  Still, perhaps this condition wouldn't be so bad overall...**

**Rasul had drifted into his thoughts as the two men spoke to each other, taking the opportunity to clear his mind as he read through the document that spelled his marriage to Flavia.  His future father-in-law was currently gushing over the riches brought by his father, who was giving a good-natured grin in response and a little shake of his head.**

"Ah, Lord Bathory; it is to bring luck to your family!"

**He didn't deny that he was stalling for time - something spotted quickly by the observant Lord Bathory.  Rasul allowed a smile in return to the Lord and an admitting nod of his head.  There was no use denying his hesitance - after all, if the girl was hideous; even 30,000 gold a year would not be enough money! Of course, to the two Lords, it would simply look like common sense.**

**When Flavia made her appearance; Rasul could easily detect the pride her father held for her.  She was a beautiful girl - that much was obvious.  Still, her beauty did not stop the bitterness he felt at having his future wrenched away and his fun cruelly stopped.  He was still quite determined that she would pay for these crimes - but not when the watchful gaze of their fathers were on them... when they were wed and safely in their own home and away from prying eyes.  Unfortunately, it was likely that his mother would be staying with them for at least a while in order to teach his young bride the finer points of married life; which would mean that Flavia would have more protection and freedom than was ideal.**

"She certainly is, my friend!  She will make a fine wife!"

**Lord Bathory was more than happy to stroke the other Lord's ego - after all, his daughter was just as had been described during their negotiations and so there was no ill-will or annoyance at broken agreements.  It was even more beneficial to Lord Syron that Rasul seemed to like the girl enough to sign the contract and return it to her father.  The discussion went onto the upcoming wedding now that everything had been signed and the wedding night arrangements.  Such things would be uncomfortable for the poor girl to hear - but both of their fathers were likely desperate for grandchildren and so were keen for the formalities to be out of the way.**

**Flavia was as polite and genteel as could be expected from an heiress of her family - Rasul curiously watched as she responded to his father's greeting, her nervousness quite clear - but she did her best to hide it.  It would have entertained Rasul to know that she had found the same coldness to his tone as her mother had.  As she stuttered a greeting to him and curtsied, he gave her a pseudo-friendly smile and allowed a very slightly gentlemanly bow.  His voice maintained that chill, but also had the very slightest hint of sarcasm to it.**

"The honour is all mine, Lady Flavia."

**He allowed her father to formally introduce him and pretended not to notice as she paled as the realisation hit her and she sent a desperate glance to her father.  He could have told her that there was no use in her trying to get out of this - but, thankfully, she seemed to know this already for she didn't say anything.  They were contractually bound now - and only the trifling matter of the ceremony remained.  If he were honest, Rasul wasn't a religious man; but he hid this fact surprisingly well; long ago deciding that it was best to play along in such ceremonies rather than argue and lengthen them inadvertently.**

**Thankfully, the priest didn't keep them waiting.  Lord Syron offered the holy-man a polite greeting and a respectful bow... Rasul simply offered the newcomer a frosty glance and an acknowledging nod.  While he was offering this scant greeting to the priest, Lord Bathory had manipulated his daughter's hand into his own and he looked away from the priest, to his new fiance; letting her properly study him for the first time - and not trying to hide the contempt and hatred in that malicious brown gaze.  His voice, still wary from being around others, would appear soothing and gentle - but she may catch the harsh undertones and concealed threat...**

"Try not to worry, my lady... I'm sure we'll get along.  You're perfectly safe with me."

[josephalexandre]

Father Joseph allowed himself to fall in behind the servant, as the latter meekly guided him through the mansion's elaborate interior. Their walk was of course relatively short, but even those few minutes gave the Connlaothian a good view of the residing family's attention to detail, and briefly he humored himself imagining how he'd be lost somewhere along these hallways not to be seen again by another human being for years, if he for some strange reason would have no kindly assistant make a straight beeline for their master's current whereabouts.

"Lord Bathory," he honored his host with a most courteous greeting upon entering the office where the Lord himself awaited his arrival, along with his daughter and the remaining noblemen.
"Lords Syron." The priest then acknowledged the guesting gentlemen as one, finding that he was somewhat pushed forward by Lord Bathory and his verbal desire to make haste with the wedding ceremony.
Yet, he found time still to return the respectful greeting made by the man whom Joseph assumed was the father of the young husband-to-be, by offering him a benevolent smile. "...And Mylady," he generously offered that same smile to the young bride as well.

As he did so, his gaze subsequently rested upon the young couple; observing in Lady Flavia the ever so familiar picture of a frightened damsel as she were about to be thrown into a marriage she never had asked for.
But as tradition had been for many generations, a wedding was always a compromise between two fathers, much rather than it was the result of young love growing into a wonderful union of two hearts beating in perfect rhythm, one next to the other, as the bards would have it.
And yet time had helped many of the young forge a strong connection to their partner, and granted them forgiveness and peace in their shared lives - sometimes, if they were among the most fortunate, even a love strong enough to inspire said bards to sing them a song or seven.

However, when his eyes briefly gazed at those of the young Lord Syron, Joseph made a slight pause; a look of concern appearing on his face. The priest had been ready to perform the ritual as ordered - but as he were about to speak the opening line, his words ran like a chill down his spine. Something about the handsome young man was... wrong?

"Gentlemen..." he began again, attempting to shake off the odd feeling. "We are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony..." Joseph resumed the recital that would allow the union to become Heavenly blessed; and official in the eyes of their fellow men.

[Wild]

In the salon Lady Bathory did her best to be a good hostess for Lady Syron and keep a cheerful and intelligent conversation. She knew it was important to be good friends with Lady Syron. Her husband had ordered her to make a good first impression, to make certain that Lord Syron and his family would have nothing bad to say about them after the wedding. Luckily for Lady Bathory Lady Syron was a lovable guest, and it was easy to like her and be friendly towards her.

Her thoughts went to the other room, where she knew her daughter now was being showed off like juicy steak in a butcher's shop. She loathed the way wealthy men married off their young  daughters, knowing how scared her little daughter Flavia had to be right now. The poor girl had lived a sheltered life until now - and then she was thrown into a marriage she had never asked for. If it only had been with a boy the girl had a crush on it wouldn't have been so bad, but Lady Bathory knew her daughter had been protected from all men to remain pure on her wedding day.

Poor Flavia, what a shock this wedding must be for you. Forgive me, my child, that I can't be with you this one time in your life where you need me the most. Your father has forbidden me to stand by your side at your wedding. Perhaps he know I would call of the wedding if I could, if I hear you pleading to not making you go through this with the young man...

I have seen your future husband, and I do not like him, my child. He has a cold, icy edge to his voice, revealing that underneath that polished surface of his is a real monster, far worse than any monsters in the fairytales I told you in your childhood. I don't dare to think of what the future holds for you now, but I hope and pray that your mother-in-law may be able to protect you from the worst. At least Lady Syron seem to be a kind and loving woman. Love her, my child, and be a daughter to her the same way you were to me when you stayed in your childhood home.

In the office young Flavia looked at her father with an increased worry when she noticed the large chest of money standing near his office desk. What was this? Where did this treasure chest come from? And why did the two strange men smile at her like they did?  She had only seen her father smile like this once before - when he had sold a beautiful horse and received lots of money for it. A horrifying thought struck her, making her go numb with shock. Her father hadn't sold her, had he?

She nervously threw a glance towards the two Syrons, trying to find out if they had heavy metal chains with them. She knew that slaves were often chained when they were towed away from their home. But it was rather uncommon to sell a noblewoman into slavery - surely her father could not be this cruel?

She felt a feeling of panic slowly spreading inside her body as her father spoke of a sum of 30,000 gold coins a year for Flavia and her... husband? And young Lord Syron's answer scared her even more. A life as a married woman - with him? She opened her mouth to protest, to plead her father not to do this to her, but she received one of his stern glances, the one revealing that she would be seriously punished if she embarrassed him in front of the guests. So Flavia kept her mouth shut and stared at the floor as her eyes brimmed with tears she did not dare to shed.

Lord Bathory smiled when his young son-in-law spoke of his generosity. He had once been like the young man, being hesitant to let himself be tied to only one woman, and he remembered the terms his father-in-law had set up for him then. He knew the hot blood of young men well enough to know how to handle them.

"The 30,000 a year will last for as long as you two are still married and as long as Flavia is alive," he said. "If you manage to keep your marriage for the next 25 years the sum will be doubled to 60 000 gold pieces a year. After 50 years of marriage the sum will be tripled to 90 000 gold pieces a year. We have to make sure our young people won't have any problems with their finances. If Flavia dies or you get divorced, the money will, as mentioned earlier, be returned to the Bathory Family."

Flavia listened to the terms her father set up for young Rasul. She knew that her father tried to set up the best terms possible for her and grant her a somewhat secure marriage with these terms. But would it help? By looking at the young man she feared for her future as his wife already. She had a bad feeling that these terms would not help in the least, even if her father had meant well and only tried to protect her in spite of forcing this marriage through. It was not uncommon that a nobleman married off his daughter against her will. But it was uncommon that the bride's father granted a yearly pension of so much money to grant the couple financial security.

Lord Bathory smiled and embraced Lord Syron after inspecting the riches the man brought into his home. "I thank you for bringing such luck to this house, my friend," he said and laughed. "And I hope you will not mind the gift I wish to bring to you and your family...."

The door to the office went up, and four servants came in, carrying a large treasure chest between them. This was the gift that Lord and Lady Syron would receive for accepting his daughter into their home as their daughter-in-law. The young couple's gift was the Mansion mentioned in the contract and the yearly pension of gold. The servants placed the chest in front of Lord Syron and left the room. Lord Bathory waited with a smile on his face, hoping Lord Syron would like his presents.

Flavia looked nervously at Rasul when they were introduced by her father. She was bright enough to notice the chill in his voice, the slight hint of sarcasm. When he said the honor was all his, she had to pinch her arm to stop herself from shuddering so others could notice.

Is it? she thought. I doubt it... You don't seem very honored, Lord Syron.... I bet you would rather be elsewhere, than here in a room with me....

No, she had her doubts that he really wished to marry her, just as little as she wanted to marry him. She studied his face when he spoke to her, trying to find at least something to like about him.

Perhaps he would have been handsome, if his eyes had not been so cold and unfeeling. Perhaps he could have been charming if his voice was not so filled with ice. As much as Flavia tried, she couldn't find anything to love about him. She silently prayed it was only pre-wedding jitters and not real facts - that he would show a better side of him later.

As the priest made his entrance into the room, Lady Flavia gave him a brief nod. Her pale face revealed that she did not want this marriage - but she did not dare to ask him for mercy, knowing that she would anger not only her father, but probably also the two Lords Syron if she tried anything now that the contract had been signed.

She felt her soon-to-be husband looking at her, and she didn't have to look at him to feel the contempt and hatred in his malicious, brown gaze. She heard his voice, apparently soothing and gentle as he assured they would get along and she would be safe with him. But she could feel the harsh undertones and concealed threat beneath, and she threw a quick glance in his direction. Her mild brown eyes looked straight into his - only for a brief moment. Even if she did not say a word of protest, her eyes said the words that never escaped her lips.

You are not fooling anyone....

In the background she heard her father talking friendly with the priest, welcoming him into their home and showing him the makeshift altar he had set up in his office for this wedding ceremony.

"The bride and groom are already here, and I hope we have remembered to arrange the altar correctly," he smiled. "I have prepared a bag of your usual fee for such services, and a little bonus for coming to our home for the ceremony on such short notice. After the wedding ceremony I hope you have time to join the wedding celebrations, and I will make sure you are paid well before you leave."

As the wedding ritual started, Flavia was standing still as a statue before the priest. Her tiny, delicate hand was resting in Rasul's, the other hand holding the bridal bouquet trembling with fear. Inwardly she was crying, but she knew her fate was sealed.

The contract had been signed, and there was no way to escape. In the back of the room she heard her mother and Lady Syron entering the room to watch the young couple being married, and she had to force herself to stay where she was, and not rush into her mother's arms to plead for mercy.

By some strange miracle she didn't faint during the ceremony, and was able to give a brief nod where it was expected from her. When the recital was over she looked down at the bouquet with tear-filled eyes, knowing that she was trapped in a marriage she never had asked for.

[Coma]

**It was unfortunate for Lady Bathory that she was not permitted to attend the wedding – although, if she were honest, Lady Syron had also thought that she would be omitted from the guest-list.  As she as she was, Lady Syron enjoyed her time with her hostess and was pleased to be able to take it as an opportunity to get to know the woman who would soon be connected to her by blood.  She was excited to meet her soon-to-be daughter-in-law as well... but was expecting the poor young lady to be quite frightened by the suddenness of her betrothal.  It would take some time before Flavia felt ready to get to know her in-laws; she was sure.  In that, the ill-fated girl was fortunate – Lord Bathory was the polar opposite to her father; despite his advancing age and some relatively old-fashioned views, he was kind and attentive.  Lady Bathory was a timid woman, but compassionate and pleasant.**

**It was only unfortunate that their eldest son had somehow obtained a truly terrifying mean-streak that had been present since childhood; but overlooked by both his doting parents.  Equally, his brothers were nothing like Rasul – they were all sweet, charming and gentlemanly.  Any of them would have been thrilled to have Flavia as their wife – they would have been gentle and kind while she adjusted.  Rasul, though... no; he was determined not to give his new bride that sort of complacency.  She was not deserving of it.**

**Lady Syron remained unaware of her companion's silent, secret thoughts regarding her daughter and her new husband.  A protective mother, she would have rebuffed any suggestion that her son was anything but a reputable, promising young man.  Still, she would not have blamed the good lady for her fear and apprehension – she would have been just the same had it been her daughter to be married off to a stranger.  Any mother would have faltered and lamented the loss of their child to another.  Still, to Lord and Lady Syron, Rasul had been nothing but a dutiful, if sometimes strong-minded, son.**


**In that office, poor Flavia was being studied closely by her new husband; the look of smoldering contempt was directed only at her... This was all her fault... he would lost his freedom because of her... Her anxious glances to both him and his father went ignored... had he known that she was trying to detect whether they carried slave chains with them, he might well have played up on her fear and done his best to drive her towards delirium with the belief.  After all, perhaps if she were driven to the brink of madness, he could object on the grounds of her insanity...**

**Rasul forced himself to focus back on Lord Bathory as he continued to speak of the yearly income he was granting them.  As he explained how the amount would increase; his plan to kill Flavia disintegrated.  It would figure that the girl would have to be alive... he wasn't given the opportunity to just kill her and continue collecting on the fortune as a poor, mourning widower.  This new setback caused him to lock his deep brown gaze with his new bride's, the coldness in his stare completely opposite to the gentle, smitten words given to her father.**

"...I would hope that I need never be without my new bride.  She is lovely."

**Again, she would likely detect the sinister ice to his words; but to anyone else, they would likely just be the charming sentiments of a man newly-infatuated by his bride.  His father smiled, gently patting his son on the shoulder with a heavy hand at his reaction.**

"I can only hope that your marriage is as long and fulfilling as mine and your mother's, son.  I knew you would like young Lady Bathory as soon as Lord Bathory wrote to me of her."

**Rasul allowed a warm smile in response, thanking his father with a nod of his head and a few words of gratitude.  He might have said more, had the large treasure chest not been carried in at that moment.  It was a strange scene to watch – his and Flavia's fathers rewarding each other with presents and flatteries at the culmination of this mutually profitable deal.  His father was quite keen on the old ways – but had a high degree of respect for the rights of others; even women.  His wife was very much a prized counsel to him.  However, Lord Bathory was the opposite – Rasul could easily see that he considered his wife a trophy and nothing more... especially now her beauty had faded.  After gesturing the for servants to open the gesture, his father surveyed the wealth of treasure inside; modestly shaking his head, with that same generous smile.**

"Oh, Lord Bathory... no, this is too much."

**Of course, in the end, they would both accept one another's gifts and end up at the same level pegging as they had before; with the value being exchanged not too different from each other.  Rasul, though, wisely remained silent – not bothering to point out that this was all an exercise in gushing politeness and nothing more.   Still, raising this fact would do nothing but sour what was looking to be a very amicable exchange... and Rasul would hate to see his yearly pension be withdrawn for a moment of sharp-tongued observation and wit.**

**Thankfully, Rasul saw nothing of Flavia's own sharpness and wit – it would only have annoyed him.  The last thing he needed from this wedding was anything but an obedient, silent wife.  He wanted her to have no intelligence, to have no idea of her worth or her beauty.  This all might be quite manageable if only she remained silent, subservient and chaste to all but him.  Of course, even he could tell that this was not likely to happen – as much as he would prefer her to believe otherwise, she was a beauty and other men would try and have their way with her.  That led to his only option being to keep her imprisoned – at least until he was certain of her chastity and loyalty to him...**

**The priest's entrance spelled the beginning of their ceremony... they were soon shepherded into another room, to be joined under the eyes of their family, the holy-man and whatever God or Gods happened to be passing by.  Lady Syron had been surprised to be summoned from the salon, but proudly took her husband's side, lovingly taking his arm and giving him a bright smile.  They rarely spent any time apart – and even that brief period had been too much.  It was this sort of blessed union that Lord Syron sincerely wished for young couple before then – but, of course, this was never to be.  Unbeknownst to all present, except perhaps Rasul and Flavia themselves, the two both hated each other from the offset. Then... perhaps the priest could detect that something was not quite right as well – still, he was being paid well enough for his services and would be met with only fury and annoyance from the assembled congregation of he were to pull out of his agreement now.**

**It seemed that Lord Bathory had laid on quite a celebration for after the ceremony... if he were similar to other hosts, it was likely that even the commoners and workers would be treated to a small gift, a tiny slice of cake or a release from their duties an hour or two earlier.  There would undoubtedly be a cheerful crowd awaiting their appearance as man and wife... and the very thought of such a fuss made Rasul feel both furious and sick.  His grip on Flavia's arm tightened with this irritation and his chocolate-brown eyes flashes with aggression for just a moment.**

**Surprisingly, Lady Bathory seemed to have been permitted to join the small group to watch the marriage – he watched coldly as Flavia turned to look at her mother, could feel the young lady tense and pull herself away from the thought of rushing away from him and into her mother's arms.  It was commendable, but would go unrewarded, that she had managed to maintain her presence at his side.  A cold smile was rained down on her and a minuscule shrug of his shoulders; as if he were informing her that whatever action she took would do nothing for her in the long run.  Even if she tried to flee, she would be pulled back to his side.  Marrying him was not her decision to make.**

**As the priest conducted the ceremony, Rasul quietly listened; amused by Flavia timidly nodding at the required moment and allowing his voice to confidently answer when it was expected of him.  Unlike his terrified new bride, there was not a hint of fear from the handsome young man.  He instead allowed the priest that same cold smile once the ceremony was finished; joining her in facing the congregation as man and wife.  His mother was wiping away happy tears, his father gently patting her hand in comfort... he doubted Lady Bathory was enjoying such a compassionate display from her husband...**

**He may have been able to release Flavia's arm and let her seek solace with her mother... but he chose not to... instead cruelly keeping his grip tight and keeping her stubbornly by his side.  She was his now – and if she wanted to go to her mother, it would be with him in tow...**

[josephalexandre]

The priest offered Lord Bathory a benevolent smile, uttering a word of gratitude responding to the noble man and his gracious welcome. Truly, his well-mannered attention to detail was something Joseph deeply appreciated, even if he could not engage himself in the moment so much as to give his host the same amount of consideration.
His mind remained preoccupied by the mental process starting as soon as he had been presented to the immediate company of men (and a woman) gathered to formalize the wedding they so desired.

However, it was not at all his idea to put off the ceremony in favor of an idiotic gut-feeling.
At least this was what he told himself; that the discomfort which had washed over him a moment when he looked into young Lord Syron's eyes were nothing short of a fool's notion; not a reliable source of information to judge another man's character upon, unless further reason could be found that he or the wedding itself should not be granted his conformity.
He was sure that God was with them on this day, and all the days that were to follow - why wouldn't He be?
The passing notion had been no more than a side-effect caused him by the burning sun; as he was not quite so well adjusted to the climate particular to the Essyrni desert.

"Your servants did a brilliant job setting up the altar, Mylord," Joseph examined the makeshift piece of furniture with a nod of approval. "Please give them my regards. And I can assure you, mylord, that I had no trouble with the time frame - I have been here in Essyrn the past few weeks to study some ancient scriptures, and I must say it delights me to no end to be called upon for religious services. So far the locals have expressed no such wish, as they are fond of their own costumes and their faith."
He respected that, of course. It was something he very well could relate to; the preference of one's own ideals, and the heartfelt desire to worship one's own God(s).
"Of course, Mylord, I'll be happy to join your celebration after the ceremony, if you will have me," he added with a smile as he was invited to attend the festivities by the Lord Bathory himself.

Joseph resumed with more confidence than he was certain he felt inside, assisted very much by the routine aspect of a ceremony he had performed so many times before. Allowing a pause here and there, when it was customary for the couple to make a reply, the priest allowed his gaze to rest upon their outward appearances - trying if he might to learn a little something about them both.
Lady Flavia remained by her husband's side, perfectly still aside from her trembling hands. Her face was pale as the finest marble, and her eyes so wide with fear that Joseph felt a sting of pain in his own heart.
"May God bless your hearts, and teach you both to love and forgive one another. And may he give you days of sunshine as well as the strength to endure those days where it might seem as if the sun never again will shine upon you - for I hope that the light will always find you in the end; and when it does, you will both find harmony in each other's presence."

Even in the presence of her father and the now husband beside her, he dared express himself so boldly, sending a warm smile in the young Lady's general direction. By uttering these words as a part of the Holy ceremony, he doubted anyone would have the nerve to object - after all, it was merely a blessing made to encompass the newlyweds; was that not expected of a priest asked to perform this exact nature?
Altough he hoped as well that young Rasul would live by these words, and learn in time to adore his wife; even if he might not do so right now - if he would at the very least treat her with kindness there could still be a chance for them to find a form of happiness in their union.

[Wild]

It was unfortunate that Flavia had to marry Rasul and not one of his younger brothers. With one of the brothers she might have found the happiness she had always dreamed of. But with Rasul there was no such thing as happiness. Flavia knew this when she met her husband for the first time - and if she had ever had any illusions of a happy marriage, all illusions died right there in that moment.

She could feel Rasul's eyes studying her closely, and she felt the look of smoldering contempt. She knew at this moment that she could never expect any love or understanding from him. All she could feel from him was a strong hatred, as if it was her fault that this marriage happened. But she knew she couldn't reason with him. One look in his direction was all she needed to know that he would never listen to anything she had to say. It wasn't she who had begged her father to arrange a marriage for her - but she doubted she could make Rasul believe in that...

It was a small comfort for her that her father's yearly income for them only would last for as long as she, Flavia was alive. Hopefully Rasul wouldn't kill the girl who brought him a safe income. Even if a loveless marriage was not what she had wanted for life, it was still better than being dead. Her eyes widened when Rasul locked his deep brown gaze with hers, telling her father that he hoped he would never be without her and that she was lovely.

Lord Bathory seemed to like these words, and he smiled and patted the young man friendly on the shoulder. "Young man, you may rest assure that your new bride will stay by your side always," he said. "She has been given a good upbringing, so I hope she will not bring shame to our families..."

Flavia, who had a half mind on running away when she saw Rasul's gaze, cursed inwardly by her father's words. That was the one thing she could never bring herself to do: Shaming her family. Her father had not only taken her freedom by giving her to this heartless young man, he had also given him his word of honor that Flavia would never run away.

Lord Bathory smiled when he saw Lord Syron's reaction to the gift he had brought for Flavia's wedding.

"Not the least, my dear Lord Syron," he replied. "After all, through this marriage we are family now. And I tend to spoil my family."

Flavia heard their voices as she stood by Rasul's side, feeling the panic building up inside her. During the whole wedding ceremony she looked pleadingly up at the priest, as if he was the only one in this Godforsaken world who could understand her and free her from all her problems - namely Rasul.

Please, get me away from here.....

But the gods seemed to turn a blind eye to Flavia today, for the ceremony was completed without any signs of higher powers intervening to stop this wedding from happening. Flavia's faith in the existence of the gods died abruptly when the wedding was over and she felt her husband's iron grip on her arm. In that moment she realized that she was trapped for the rest of her life - bound to a man who didn't love her and who already showed clear signs of hating her - and she cried inwardly, knowing there was nothing she could do about it.

In the background she could hear the clinking of coins as her father placed a well-specked purse in the hands of the priest for his services. She could see the priest smiling a benevolent smile towards her, but she did not respond to his smile.

Trapped - like a rat in a cage - sold to a man she did not love. While she heard the others retreating to the reception hall, starting the party, she had the feeling of being on her way to a funeral - her own funeral....
 
(If nobody else have something to add, I suggest this is the end of part one of this plot. The plot will continue in this thread: (Un)Happily Ever After  )