“High Elder Martin? Where is he?” Inessa asked.
“In his Cathedral study,” the guard said.
Inessa nodded, walking inside. She was too nervous to talk to the entire council of High Elders, but she could talk to Martin. She knocked on his door, quiet and soft.
“Come in,” Martin said. She walked in, giving a curtsey. “Ah, hello, Inessa.”
She handed him the paper. “It… it says pure white?”
“It does, yes. A high honor,” Martin said.
“But it isn’t true,” she said.
“You have been forgiven for your act with Indenuel. Forgiven like it has never happened.”
“Martin, I slept with you,” Inessa said.
Just as she suspected, he did his best not to recoil, but Martin was still troubled about what he did to her. The only way they existed in the same home was to pretend her time as a concubine never happened. That she was simply Adosina’s dearest friend.
“It’s, um…”
“I slept with all of you,” Inessa said, trying not to be angry before she realized she needed to correct herself. “Everyone but High Elder Cristoval. I am happy to marry Indenuel, but at least make my dress reflective of my actual purity. This is a lie.”
“Inessa.” He stood up and placed his hands on his desk. “The truth is, this situation is something none of us expected to be placed in. A concubine was not expected to go on and marry someone else. We discussed it in one of our meetings and concluded that under the concubine law, God protected your virtue.”
Inessa stared at Martin. He did not look back. “You don’t believe a word of what you just said, do you.”
“The next few years after a war is difficult. We need to stay strong and united,” Martin said.
“Is that what High Elder Navir told you when you disagreed with him?” Inessa asked, practically hearing Navir’s voice in Martin’s words. “You fought hard to forgive Indenuel and I. You also fought to get us together. Why aren’t you fighting now?”
“There are battles I must pick and choose. The concubine law, you, what they’ve… I cannot touch it. Not without serious consequences to myself and my family. Pure white is a high honor. Simply take it and enjoy your wedding.”
Inessa frowned, studying Martin who did not look at her. He was being threatened. It all made sense to her now. “How was this law created in the first place? Did you all pray and mediate, and did you all feel God gave His approval to have sex with a lot of women to save them and their families from poverty?”
“Inessa, please. I cannot talk about it anymore,” Martin said.
“They threatened you into this. They are blackmailing you.”
“Don’t, Inessa,” Martin said. “Please don’t look any deeper into this for your own sake. Just take this high honor and go.”
Inessa looked down at her paper. She recognized the different letters. But the words were still a mystery to her. She realized now, why Martin was so uncomfortable for so long. Whatever they had on him, whatever they threatened to expose, it must have been deeply troubling to get Martin to do something like this. But it still annoyed her that Martin would simply cave under the pressure and refuse to see how evil this law had become. “I don’t know what humiliating thing they have on you, I don’t know what they threatened to do to get you to obey, but this cannot continue. You must stop them, because I can’t.”
“I’m sorry, Inessa. I’m in too far,” Martin said.
Inessa felt herself glaring. “Do you know how many concubines High Elder Fadrique abuses?” Martin stilled, finally meeting her gaze. “Do you know how much he loves to beat us before he has sex with us?”
His posture stiffened as he rubbed his jaw. “This is completely inappropriate to talk about.”
“Do you want to know the movements Dalius ordered me to do while I undressed?”
“Inessa-” Martin warned again.
“Do you want to know the noises the other concubines taught me to make to help Navir-”
“Inessa!” Martin said, slapping the desk, breathing hard. “Enough.”
“I do not belong in a pure white dress,” Inessa snapped back, knowing if she was saying this to any of the other High Elders, she would have been thrown in the dungeon. But this was Martin. The man who almost prided himself on not using his titles so people felt more comfortable talking to him about hard things. “And none of you deserve to wear pure white robes, either.”
“I know. But there is nothing I can do.” Martin looked truly miserable, but Inessa found herself hating him. Hating how he was giving up. Hating how he looked the other way while young girls slept with his fellow High Elders.
Inessa turned around, walking out of his room. Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked out of the Cathedral and down the steps. She had never spoken up against a High Elder before, let alone expressed her anger toward the concubine law. It both thrilled and terrified her.
She sat in her carriage, asking the driver to take her to Tima’s dress shop. She realized she had pent up anger from the other High Elders, but she was too terrified. She wanted to say the same things to Fadrique, Dalius, and Navir, but she would never be that brave. She wanted to be that brave, though. Was she capable of such a thing?
She did not feel guilty for what she said, but she was afraid she took it too far with Martin. He had been kind to her, offered her a place to say as Indenuel got healed of the mark. She still had no idea what they had against him, but was it truly that bad that Martin felt like it was fine to look the other way during all this?
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The carriage stopped at Tima’s dress shop. She headed inside, saw how busy it was. She hoped a wedding dress in two weeks wouldn’t put a strain on her.
Ari smiled at her, giving her a hug. “Welcome, Inessa!” There were other assistants there, and the shop was busy, but it was running smoothly. “Tima’s in the back waiting for you!”
Inessa thanked her before making her way to the back. There were other assistants measuring women and fitting dresses. Tima walked over to her, smiling.
“It’s so good to see you, Inessa. Come, I’ve added to my shop. I now have a place to work all by myself,” Tima said, taking Inessa’s elbow and heading toward another door.
They walked through to what looked like Tima’s personal room. It was covered in sketches and fabric samples, as well as letters and designs. Inessa sat down on a chair, and Tima sat across from her. “Is that the paper from the High Elders?”
Inessa again looked down at the paper before handing it over. It had been in her hands so long it felt strange giving it up. Tima unrolled it, her eyes skimming over the words. Inessa watched as Tima took this information in, not reacting to it before rolling the paper up again.
“A high honor indeed,” Tima said.
“It says pure, then?” Inessa asked. She had already asked Martin, but she still couldn’t believe it.
“The highest level. I have some of the whitest of white silk. It’ll probably blind half the congregation, but this sort of honor does not come often,” Tima said. She stood up, taking out a box and opening it to reveal more loose papers with wedding dress designs. “I have a few designs for a pure white dress if you’d like to look through it. Or we could make a new dress entirely. As one of my most valued clients, I owe you my success, so it will be for free.”
“Tima-”
“I will not take a copper from you,” Tima said.
Inessa nodded, looking back at the rolled up paper in her hands. Tima was leafing through the loose pages, then noticed Inessa’s face. She stilled, frowning. “Inessa?”
“What is your opinion on the concubine law?” Inessa asked.
“As a good citizen of Santollia City, I agree with the law and praise how it has saved our city from poverty during a bleak war,” Tima said without hesitation.
“And as the citizen you want to be?” Inessa asked.
“It’s disgusting,” she said with the same lack of hesitation. “As a woman past the age of thirty, I cannot help but notice how young all these women are, especially with how much I see them, being the sole provider of concubine dresses in the city. The only ones even remotely close to my age were the ones who were first chosen as concubines when they were sixteen, seventeen years old, and now are ten years older.” Tima shuffled the pages of the dresses, the anger trickling into her voice. “If concubines are truly meant to be chosen because of their purity, I know plenty of women who are thirty-five, forty years old who are single and destitute. They are continually passed over because they are not young, naïve little things with big breasts and wide hips.” Tima froze, then looked up over the pages of her artwork. “Forgive me, my anger takes me away sometimes. I did not mean you, specifically.”
Inessa gave one of the first smiles since leaving the Cathedral. “But I am a young, naïve little thing with…” Inessa couldn’t bring herself to repeat it and looked away again.
Tima laughed. “I said it before, I will say it again. God has certainly blessed you.”
Inessa sighed, shaking her head as she looked at the paper again. “Therefore I am to wear the purest white dress.”
Tima tsked. “It’s a political statement, more than anything. Proof that what the High Elders are doing to those young women, doing to you, is right in the sight of God. Another motivation for the people to support it wholeheartedly.”
Inessa looked up from the paper. “Tima?” An idea formed in her head. If Martin couldn’t do anything about the concubine law, maybe she could, in her own way. Maybe this was her opportunity to be brave. “Could you make my dress a political statement of its own?”
Tima paused, then slowly lowered the loose pages of the dress. Her eyes widened, and a grin crossed her face. “Oh, Inessa. Are you certain?” Inessa could already see Tima’s brain firing up ideas.
“The High Elders think I’m pure, but I am not a virgin,” Inessa said.
Tima stared at Inessa, trying to contain the grin on her face. “Oh, this is so dangerous.” She took a deep breath. “Really, really dangerous. You need to understand that. If we do this with your dress, the High Elders will retaliate. Dungeon, taking away your titles. I don’t think they’d try and have you killed, but that’s always an option.”
Inessa frowned, cocking her head to one side. “Really? Is it?”
“I’ve heard rumors,” Tima said. “At the very least, if we go through with this, they might keep you from getting married.”
Inessa nodded slowly. “But you still want to do it anyway?”
“Absolutely I do. But I’m concerned about you. Are you sure you want to risk your potential marriage for something like this?”
Inessa took the time to think things through. Tima was right to warn her. She didn’t know anything about this political game that Navir and the others knew so well. This was going to be a statement, and she doubted the High Elders would look kindly on her for that.
She remembered what she told Martin. The pain she had gone through, and how deeply uncomfortable he was to hear of it all. And she only brushed the surface. She didn’t even bother reminding him of that night he almost forced her into bed. The way he was going to rape her for no other reason other than Navir told him to. She remembered that feeling of powerlessness. Martin did not rape her that night because he chose not to, but she never got a say.
Every night she went to the High Elders, doing exactly what they wanted her to do, ignoring what she wanted. She realized how important her concubine sisters were, the community they had built. They needed each other, cheering others on if they weren’t feeling like it that night. Helping them get in the mood, because to deny a High Elder was not an option. There were fourteen- and fifteen-year old’s gaining information from the older concubines as to what they should expect and what to tell the female healers so the hurt would go away. It was all so normal for them. And now that Inessa had been away from it for so long, she felt a rage building up inside her.
Martin, the only person who could do something, was going to do nothing, and so it would continue.
“I want to make the statement,” Inessa said. “For my concubine sisters who are being ignored.”
Tima nodded, then stood up and put the pure white dresses away and went to her desk, pulling out a few blank pages. “There are two options I’m playing with in my mind. I will not do anything unless you are comfortable with it. There are not nearly as many laws about a woman’s wedding dress, as the color is what people are most focused on.”
“I thought pure white dresses needed to be modest,” Inessa said.
“No such laws. Simply cultural,” Tima said as she began to draw. “There are some crazy fashions coming out of the lower half of Dengria. Showing shoulder, showing leg, low cut, it would be scandalous, but again, I won’t do this unless you’re comfortable with it.”
Inessa mulled this over. “And the other options?”
Tima smiled. “What the High Elder’s decree is of course the highest option you can choose from. The one everyone chooses because they need to maintain their image and make sure people understand their position in the eyes of God. But you can choose any color you wish. There is no law that you must choose the color the High Elder’s decree.”
Inessa realized what she meant. “So I don’t have to choose pure white.”
“No. No you do not,” Tima emphasized. “You can have the modest cut of a pure white dress but make it the color of your choosing.”
“What are the different colors of a wedding dress?” Inessa asked.
“Different shades of white and gray, depending on the actions one has done,” Tima said.
“And what color would accurately represent someone who has slept with four men multiple times over the course of four, four and a half years?” Inessa asked.
Tima placed her charcoal pencil down, looking up. “If we are to take out the High Elder’s calling as holy men, your actions are…”
“Whorish,” Inessa said, confirming what she always believed.
Tima gave a sad nod. “Women like that don’t get married. They do not have a color.”
“Perfect.” The quiet thrill from standing up to Martin returned. “Make me a dress befitting a whore. And make it black as sin itself.”
Tima chuckled, her eyes alight with creativity as she picked up her charcoal pencil again and continued to draw. “You, Inessa, are a very dangerous young woman.”