The news about the wedding quickly spread through the whole Mimasium town, followed by a jolly announcement that due to the burning need for a new executioner, the 'ceremony' is to be performed today, as soon as the administration and clergy are ready. It was ad hoc agreed to be a mockery.

Someone made a straw axe to be handed to Cyril as a symbol of his new position, someone brought a bright red ribbon for the bride and forcefully tied it around Anne's neck laughing at her protests. Someone drew a key on a spare tavern board and called it a lockpick to the newlyweds' castle. The drawing was a series of obscene pictures with a gore finish to it. People gathered in the Town Square with bouquets of rotten veg and dung-covered hay to throw at them at the appropriate moment.

The judge and the mayor quickly performed their duty before lamb leg in mint and sage marinate waiting for them in the magistrate cool down. The convict was officially pardoned, his sword brought as a silent witness of humiliation and the words of stripping him of his nobility were spoken. Then the crowd drug Cyril and Anne to the parish church of the Holy Unity where they were wed without them saying more than one murmured word within mere seconds.

Cyril didn't look at anybody or anything. He barely heard stupid songs sung by the mob along the way to the miserable hut outside the walls, in the middle of nowhere. Anne, who was sobbing half an hour ago, was now walking calmly with her head down. At every louder shout, she was trembling and hiding her head between skinny shoulders. The cortege reached the small crook house and they were pushed inside. She only had a quick glance at the surroundings. Next to the tiny house was an area enclosed by a short parapet, a thick wall of blackberry bushes and weeds that served as a live fence against wild dogs and human curiosity.

Once inside, Cyril shut the door and slid a thick latch. Square windows were covered by dark yellow animal hide letting just enough light in on a sunny day to allow sitting there without a candlelit but not transparent enough to see the world outside or inside so now the two people were hidden from the mob's eyes.

The former knight sunk into a wobbly chair and hid his face in his massive palms. His newlywed wife looked around. On the left from the entrance, there was a tiny room that clearly the previous habitant used as storage, but after tidying and some redoing it would be a nice private space for housework or maybe a bedroom for one. In front, there was more storage and what looked like a laundry corner. Another small door led outside to a backyard with a privy in a corner and a well in the middle. There were overgrown beds with still good-looking edible berries on miserible shrubs. This would be easily turned into a garden. She spotted three hens feverously looking for something to eat. There was a coop hidden by a bush, next to it was a box with grain. She fed the birds and checked if the well was in good condition. After a moment she sighed with relief and walked back inside. The main room with a stove and a clay furnace had some old furniture: a bed, two chairs (Cyril was still sitting on one of them not looking up), a dirty table, a wardrobe and two chests. A quick look and she knew there would be a lot of cleaning and reusing old stuff. In one of the chests, she found pots and blankets and.... mice droppings. We need a cat... and a big cage for the chickens, she thought. There were baskets by the stove with not fully rotten onions, dried beetroot and half a bag of coarse flour.

Only after she checked everything did she glance at the man sitting silently on a chair. He smelled awful, just like she expected a man who had spent a few days in a dungeon. He needed new clothes but she saw some left by the previous owner, still good quality linen and leather. Only now did she realise the crowd hadn't left yet, their laughs and unintelligible shouts were coming from outside. She did not care. She was here, locked in a house where her family was not present. The word 'safe' appeared in her mind filling her with calmness and warmth, like the smell of freshly baked bread, or jasmine.

"Sir... I will take water from the well for you to wash. Then I will start a fire and cook something from those leftovers."

The man looked up surprised and she explained:

"They didn't feed you in the prison, did they?"

"No but... no, I'm not hungry," he said absent-mindedly and looked at her as if he'd just awakened from a dream. He looked around and listened to the voices outside.

"I will go and see if there's anything outside the house that might be for use. I've already checked the yard so... well, I will check the area around the house."

Cyril suddenly jumped out of the chair.

"Don't go out!" he shouted but Anne was already by the door. She opened them and right away shut back startled. The savage laughter of the amused crowd was ringing in her ears for too long torturing moments. Finally, she stabled her breath. She was in a locked place again, a wall was between her and the world.

"I will check when they are gone. There are at least three hens in the yard, they need to be fed properly and who knows, maybe we will have eggs. The previous executioner was rarely seen in the town, there must be enough resources for food here."

She looked at Cyril who was back on the chair but this time did not hide his face. He was avoiding looking at her, like everybody else who was nice enough not to mock her, they just didn't want her to see the disgust showing on their faces. His hands were resting on his massive thighs, his eyes focused on the rim of her grey skirt.

"Sir, I know this marriage is not a pleasant thought for you, you were forced to do it. I can't promise you my face will miraculously change and my body will magically get a new shape. But I can promise that as long as it is in my hands, you will not be hungry, this house will be clean and warm, your clothes will be taken care of. I don't expect anything in return but that you don't punish me for my looks."

He looked at her surprised by her words.

"Why would I punish you? Is it your fault? And you are... not scared of me? A murderer? You talk so calmly..."

"No, I'm not afraid. You are not a murderer. You killed a man, that's right. I knew this man. He was such a... it was a matter of time before he provoked someone to put an end to his arrogant bullying. That's what happened, didn't it?"

He just gave a short nod.

"It doesn't scare you that you will live with a killer. What about a headsman?" he spitted the last word, "a man stripped of dignity and honour. In a wreck of a house, a hole built away from people's sight?"

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I know, sir, that for you this is a nightmare. But soon you will realise that you are alive. Who knows what the future will bring? The past is the past, there's nothing we can do about it. Now is neither the end of the world nor a paradise, but you are alive and healthy and nobody holds a knife to your throat. The future is unknown so there is no reason to believe it's not going to be good. You were given a chance, the best you could expect from the corrupted authorities of this town and this province. Take it and use it. I know I am not and will never be the partner you wish you had, I am not the wife you deserve. I could be a help instead, every day, not expecting kindness or faithfulness or any change in my life. My life is already what I never expected it to be..."

"You talk like you were finding it all an improvement but you were crying an hour ago. If it wasn't because of the marriage - then why?"

"I cried because one more time I was made an object of scoffing and ridicule. A thing for the mob's entertainment. Once this door closed behind me I was finally free from the people I had to live with my whole life. People who treated me worse than they treat animals just because God didn't give me an ordinary face, not to mention beauty. Nothing worse is going to come to me. You can beat me and mistreat me but you are not a crowd, you are not my father, my brother and you are not my mother who was supposed to love her child but never did."

She finished and waited in silence. There were no tears in her eyes, just dead seriousness. Love was something she would never experience from another human being, she knew it. She has made peace with it. Nobody ever will look at her and instantly smile, nobody will call her name with emotions of joy and adoration. She was right only in one detail, for in the future she would take a different name to be called by...

Meanwhile, the former knight stood up moved by her words. What he felt for her on that goddamned scaffolds was not misleading. She indeed was abused by her own family and here, with him, she would find rest from the past.

"I swear I will never hurt you, never call you names, never force you to do anything. You will live by my side the way you want to, as free as our situation allows. And I promise I will be protecting you from the cruelty of people, and will never expect anything in return."

She smiled for the first time with gratitude. It has to be said it was not a pretty view, however, her eyes lit and that was enough to bring warmth to Cyril's heart.

Someone started banging on the wall from outside. Muffled shouts reached their ears: "We're waiting!" "Get on with it!". Anne's cheeks started blushing and her eyes filled with angry tears.

"I think we should drive them away," Cyril said through clenched jaws.

"Do not get near windows. I will try to give them a show."

Saying that he stepped to the bed, lifted the furniture with his strong arms and started rhythmically banging it on the opposite wall. All the spiders run to their corners and after a few moments, the mob outside burst with roars and applause.

"Animals" Cyril whispered and turned to Anne. She was looking at him with a mixture of amusement and gratitude, he nodded mouthing "You're welcome". Then she went to take water from the well. While he was washing she started making flatbread.

It was a mix of pity, sympathy and selfishness that just over a year later led them to make this marriage authentic. He hadn't been with a woman for a long time and nobody in the proximity was interested in the convict, he had no money to pay for it either. She was in her mid-twenties and without her will, her body was demanding its natural rights. After one awkward conversation that happened when the first snow covered the ground they just did what was mutually seen as favours to each other. Anne put out the candle and put a cloth over her head. Cyril wanted to protest but sadly he realised it was a good idea.

It is worth mentioning that by the time Anne got pregnant, Cyril convinced her to stop covering her face and if the light was off it was only for the sake of saving wax.

Their eldest son was born after a very long night filled with screams and blood. The snow had covered the path from the town so no midwife wanted to walk the long, tiresome way. Anne's mother showed no interest in her daughter or the executioner's baby, just as Anne and Cyril predicted.

Thankfully, Cyril managed to talk to the nearest village's Wise Woman the day before asking for help. She didn't think an ugly woman with probably an ugly kid was worth her time. Cyril couldn't even offer her a decent payment. Moreover, judging by the look of Anne's hips, the Wise Woman thought a hole in the ground would be a more likely outcome than a cradle.

When Anne's waters broke that afternoon Cyril walked to the village once more but the Wise Woman just shrugged and mumbled something angrily. Anne had to go through this alone.

In the middle of the night, however, the Wise Woman quietly left her bed with her husband snoring loudly and lit an oil lamp. It was not Paul's snoring that kept her awake. She has always had a very sound sleep and she was used to her husband's loud noises. It was something else, the oath she made when she became the Wise Woman. How about she took a little walk, just to the spot where you can see the executioner's hut, and see if the lights are still on? Just for the peace of mind. If they are off it is over, this way or another. If they are on it will be over soon and she will check in the morning.

An hour later Cyril heard a knock on the door accompanying Anne's now muted moanings.

"Am I too late?" the Wise Woman asked and without waiting for the reply she entered the house.

"Where is hot water? Are those sheets clean? No, don't touch my things with your dirty hands! Take my coat and boil more water. Chop chop, be useful."

"I don't have the money you asked for..."

"I couldn't sleep anyway. Let's help this ugly kid to the world."

When the dawn broke through the line of distant trees, the Wise Woman looked at the crying red face of a baby boy with genuine surprise. He was not ugly, not more than any other kid. Actually, he was a quite pretty baby. And his mother was not dead at all. Those hips had to be wider on the inside, she must have misjudged.

Anne and Cyril called him Marcus. He was their greatest joy until Cyril joined the family. But Marcus had not a long time to live.