It was close to midnight when the first shouts rang out that suggested him and I retire to the bedroom.
"You married her, now bed your wife!" Fu Heng shouted, throwing his arms up and bumping into a chair.
He'd drunk his fair share of wine, whiskey and whatever else he could get his hands on.
Fu Shao, on the other hand, was sober. The small inkling of hope I'd harboured that he'd be too drunk to consummate our marriage evaporated.
His answering grin, all predator, all hunger, all want, made my heart pound in my chest.
Soon most of the men and even many women joined in the chorus.
He rose from his chair and I did the same, even though I wanted to cling to it with desperate abandon, but I had no choice.
A few looks of understanding and compassion from other women were directed my way, but they were almost as bad as the jeering.
Qina rose from her chair but Mother gripped her upper arm, holding her back. My father shouted something about a bed sheet, but the sound and colours seemed dimmed to me, as if I was trapped in fog.
His grip around my hand as he led me toward the house was the only thing keeping me in motion. My body seemed on autopilot.
A large crowd, mainly consisting of men, followed after us, their chant of "Bed her, Bed her!" growing louder as we entered the house and ascended the staircase toward the second floor where the master bedroom was.
l Fear was an insistent throbbing in my chest.
I tasted copper and realized I'd bitten the inside of my cheek hard.
When we finally arrived in front of the dark wooden double doors of the master bedroom. The men kept clapping his back and shoulders.
Nobody touched me. I would have wilted if they had.
Fu Shao opened the door and I walked in, glad to bring some distance between the leering crowd and myself. The shouting rang in my head and it was all I could do not to clamp my hands over my ears.
"Bed her! Bed her!"
Fu Shao slammed the door shut. Now we were alone for our wedding night. The commotion in front of the door stopped except for Fu Heng who was still shouting lewd suggestions of what he could do to me, or I to him.
"Shut up, Fu Heng, and go find bitches to fuck," He shouted.
Silence reigned outside. My eyes wandered toward the king-sized bed in the centre of the room and terror gripped me.
He had his own woman to fuck tonight and until the end of days. The price for my body hadn't been paid in money, but it might as well have been. I wrapped my arms around my middle, trying to quench my panic.
He turned around to me with a predatory look on his face. My legs turned weak.
Maybe if I fainted, I'd be spared, and even if he didn't care if I was conscious and took me anyway, at least I wouldn't remember anything. He thrust his jacket over the armchair next to the window, the muscles in his forearms flexing. He was muscle and strength and power, and I might as well have been made from glass.
One wrong touch and I would shatter.
Fu Shao took his time admiring me. Wherever his eyes touched my body, they branded me as his possession, the word 'mine' edged into my skin over and over again.
"When my father told me I was to marry you, he said you were the most beautiful woman the W country had to offer, even more beautiful than the woman in here."