The Blinding
Landa Reeve
My head swam in confusion. I looked up at my father who wasn't speaking. I pulled at his sleeve, but he refused to look at me. This couldn't be true? How could our Union be forcing a marriage? Wasn't this the very thing that our nation had stood against? I looked up at the blind folded lady. Was this justice?
Beside me girls were lining up with their parents. All I wanted to do was run away. I tried to back out of the room. If I could just make it to the door I could get out. All I had to do was get outside and this would all be over. I broke into a run but was blocked by a set of officers guarding the door. They wouldn't let me out. I pushed at them and pulled at the long spears they held against me. My father's strong arms came around me and he pulled me into a hug. His soothing voice whispered in my ear that everything would be okay.
“I can't do this.”
“I know.” He kissed my forehead before holding me at arm’s length. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. “What is the penalty for disobeying the law in Missouri?”
I knew the penalty was prison. I looked at my father again. He stood up straighter still holding my shoulders under his palms. He would go to prison if I refused to go. I would go to prison as well. Brendan may even have some backlash from my rash decision. I couldn't do that to my family no matter how much I detested the idea of being sold off on the bride market.
“Isn't there another way? Why marriage?”
“Dad.”
“Listen if you are chosen today and are not picked by Prince Angel you get to choose your own path. You can do anything you want.”
“What do you mean?”
“That was the deal we made. If we were going to risk our daughters, we needed something in return. You can have real freedom.”
A part of me hated my father for what he was suggesting. He should have been my greatest champion. He should have been waving the flag of my freedom and refusing such a barbarian practice. Instead, he was holding my hand and marching me down the gangplank.
Ahead of me a girl of maybe twelve waited with her parents. Her hair was in tight braids that framed her face. Her dark skin glistened under the white cotton dress she wore. Her mother stood beside her. I watched her smoothing down her daughter's dress trying to make her look nice, maybe for the last time. “Olivia Montmark.” They moved to stand before the court.
“Age?”
“Twelve.”
The judge scribbled something on a piece of paper and showed it to the others beside him. They nodded their heads in unison.
“Denied.” He stamped the file with a large red stamp and passed it to the officer. I could see the relief in the Montmark's eyes as they walked out of the courtroom. Olivia was far too young to be a bride.
A few more girls were paraded before the court. Two more were denied.
It was my turn now. I had been trying to keep count of how many had been denied but had lost track. There were still girls much better than me that waited in line. It was unlikely that I would be chosen as the sacrificial lamb. My father squeezed my hand to give me some of his strength before we walked before the judges...
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