But one week after our own vows were said, the next group was scheduled to perform the same ceremony. Ten women - all forced to marry by the newly imposed rules - would seal their lives to that of the man they'd accepted or been assigned, andthere was nothing they could do about it. Worse, everyone in the compound was expected to attend as witnesses.
So, as the evening meal approached, I told Tobias I needed to prepare. Like always, he was dressed in a pair of brown trousers and a shirt that was meant to be white but looked closer to beige. The fabric was soft, and had been recycled enough times it would never be bright again, but I knew he preferred it. He said it was comfortable.
I picked a dress that would complement his clothes. The color was a mix of the same pale-but-stained fabric and a brown that was more rusty than his, but close enough. I twisted my hair up into a knot at the base of my neck, but when I stepped into our greeting area, my husband looked up from his chair and smiled.
"Almost," he said, easing himself up to close the distance between us. "Callah, you look put together nicely, but as a wife, you should be working harder."
And he gently teased a strand of hair down by my temple. When I didn't resist, he moved to another space near my neck on the opposite side. A pick here, a twirl there, and he carefully made me look like I'd been busy right up until it was time to go, and I could see it all in the warped mirror just beside our door.
"Will I not be seen as improper?" I asked.
"Nope," he assured me. "They'll assume I either accosted you before our meal, or that you were working furiously to clean, sew, or some other feminine task."
"Okay," I relented. "So are we ready?"
"Wife," he said, offering his arm.
I took that as a yes, and looped my hand around his elbow. "Lead on, husband."
The smile that earned me? It made this giant of a man look almost boyish, and I liked it. For almost twenty years now, I'd dreaded the day I'd be married, but it wasn't too bad. Well,mymarriage wasn't. I knew that wasn't true for most, but it only made me appreciate Tobias even more.
We weren't the only ones headed to the dining hall, though. It seemed everyone was moving that way. Some were new couples like us. Maybe not quite as new, but still new enough the husbands kept a hand on their wife. It didn't matter if that was a grip on her wrist, an arm around her shoulders, or a proper escort like Tobias had offered.
The older couples didn't bother. The wives walked either beside or slightly behind their man with their heads down. The husbands walked without care of her path, knowing she'd faithfully follow. That was the sort of arrangement I'd expected, but seeing it made me check for the other girls who'd been married last week.
I saw the first when we reached the line for our meal. Her head was down and her hands were clasped before her. Along the edge of her jaw was a dark smudge I was sure had to be a bruise. Further up in the line was another. She looked fine, but each time her husband moved, she flinched.
"Should I get your meal today?" Tobias asked, stopping my search.
"Yes, that would be kind, husband."
He nodded as if he'd expected that answer, then told the girl working in the kitchen what I would eat. It was easier this way, and he made a comment about not wanting me to turn glutinous. If anyone wondered why I didn't have meat on my plate, I now had a ready excuse.
Soon enough, we both had full plates, but too many of the chairs were now full. No matter where we sat, someone would be close enough to overhear. Doing my best to act as meek as the other girls, I shifted, making it clear Tobias should lead us where he wanted.
"Ah, there he is," he said, angling his feet to a table near the entrance.
I kept my eyes down until we were there. Then my husband took my plate and set it where he wanted me and dropped down onto his own chair. I sat properly, making sure to fold my skirts around me, and the man on my other side chuckled.
"I think you've already trained her well." The voice belonged to Sylis.
My head snapped up, but the guy simply smiled at me in a way that was almost kind. "Mrs. Warren," he greeted me.
"Mr. Underhill," I replied.
Tobias made a little noise at that. "He's not yet married, Callah. You can call him Sylis."
"I'd prefer Mr. Underhill," I said.
"I'dprefer Sylis," he told me. "And when I steal your husband away next week, I think you should meet with Mrs. Worthington, Callah. Tobias says he's going to allow you to keep healing, so you might as well use that time to see what she'll need from you."
"Uh..." I looked at Tobias. "Shouldn't I be attending your things?"
"No, I want you to heal. You can do more laundry on the days I'm not training."
Slowly, I looked between these two men, but there was a sparkle in Sylis's eyes which made me think he was reading between the lines too. Or drawing there, I couldn't be sure. In truth, I had no clue which of these men was leading this discussion, but I could tell they clearly understood their doubletalk better than I did.
But my confusion must've been obvious, because Tobias leaned to my ear and whispered, "That's time to worry about the women. Take it."
