The morning sun filtered through the wooden shutters, casting long beams of light across the dining table. The warm scent of freshly baked bread and hearty stew mingled with the faint hum of the village outside. Mira sat silently, tearing small pieces of bread from her slice, her appetite dulled by a lingering sense of unease.
Her father, Richard, presided over the table with his usual stoic demeanor, but today, his silence carried an unusual weight. Her mother, Evelyn, fidgeted with the hem of her apron, her downcast gaze betraying her inner turmoil. Lior, her older brother, sat straight-backed, his plate nearly cleared as he prepared for another day of training as a soldier. Lucas, her youngest sibling, chattered cheerfully, oblivious to the tension that thickened the air.
When Richard cleared his throat, all conversation halted. Lior put down his cup, and Lucas paused mid-sentence. Mira froze, her fingers still clutching the crust of her bread.
“I have an announcement,” Richard began, his voice heavy with authority. He looked around the table, his gaze finally settling on Mira. “Mira, you are nearing fourteen, and soon you will receive your class. It is time to secure your future.”
Her stomach dropped. The words carried a foreboding weight, each one sinking deeper into her chest.
Richard continued, his expression firm. “I’ve arranged for you to be married. William, the son of my friend Gerald, is a fine match. He’s responsible, well-off, and will ensure you have a good life.”
Mira’s heart stopped. “Married?” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.
“Yes,” Richard said with finality. “You’ll turn fourteen soon, and with adulthood comes responsibility. William is twenty five —a man who can guide and protect you. This arrangement is for your own good, to keep you safe and prevent… unfortunate outcomes.”
Her breath hitched as the implications of his words settled over her like a suffocating shroud. The bread in her hand crumbled, forgotten, as her fingers trembled.
“But—why now?” she stammered. “I’m still—”
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“Old enough,” Richard interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “A girl your age has no business running around the village unsupervised. From today, you will stay home and focus on preparing for your duties as a wife.”
Her mother opened her mouth as if to speak but faltered under Richard’s sharp gaze. Evelyn’s eyes flickered toward Mira, full of unspoken apology.
Lior shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his usually stoic demeanor cracking. “Father, isn’t she still too young? Shouldn’t she at least meet William first?”
Richard’s expression hardened. “She will meet him when the time is right. This decision is final, Lior. It is not up for debate.”
Lucas, always outspoken, piped up. “But Mira doesn’t want to get married yet—”
“Enough!” Richard’s voice boomed, silencing the room. “This is not a discussion. It is done.”
The rest of the meal passed in a strained silence, every clink of cutlery against plates amplified by the oppressive tension. Mira pushed her food around her plate, her appetite completely gone.
When the meal ended, she stood abruptly, muttering an excuse before slipping out the door. She needed air, space, anything to clear her head.
---
Outside, the crisp morning air did little to ease the storm brewing within her. Mira walked until she reached the large oak tree at the edge of the field, her sanctuary. She sank to the ground, leaning against the rough bark as tears welled in her eyes.
“Married,” she whispered bitterly, the word tasting like ash on her tongue. “To a stranger. At thirteen.”
Her fists clenched in her lap. She had known this world was different, that the role of women was confined to obedience and subservience. But knowing it and living it were two entirely different things.
In her past life, she had been Keshav—an adult, independent and free to make her own choices. The thought of being forced into a marriage, of giving up what little autonomy she had, made her stomach churn.
She pressed her forehead against her knees, frustration bubbling up. What choice did she have? Defying her father was unthinkable. In this world, his word was law, and any resistance would only bring harsher consequences.
Yet the thought of simply accepting her fate felt like a betrayal of everything she had once been. How could she let herself be caged so easily?
“Mira?”
She looked up to see Lior standing a few feet away, his expression conflicted. He crouched beside her, his usually stern face softened by concern.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I tried to speak up, but you know how Father is.”
Mira swallowed hard, her voice shaking. “Why does he get to decide my life, Lior? Why can’t I have a say?”
Lior sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because that’s how it is here. Father thinks he’s protecting you. He doesn’t see how much it hurts.”
She looked away, bitterness creeping into her tone. “He doesn’t care how much it hurts.”
“That’s not true,” Lior said gently. “He does care. He just… doesn’t know any other way.”
Mira bit her lip, her frustration warring with the faint comfort of her brother’s words. She wanted to believe him, but the weight of her father’s decision crushed any hope she had left.
Lior hesitated before speaking again. “Mira, if there’s anything I can do to help, just tell me. I can’t go against Father, but… I’ll be here for you. Always.”
His words brought a lump to her throat. She managed a small nod, unable to speak past the emotion choking her.
As Lior left, Mira leaned back against the tree, her resolve hardening. If she couldn’t fight this openly, she would have to find another way. She wasn’t just a powerless girl from a peasant family. She was Keshav—resourceful, determined, and unwilling to let anyone dictate her life.
She didn’t know how she would do it, but one thing was certain: she wouldn’t let this marriage define her future.