The nights had become restless with the announcement that I would be marrying the old Viceroys come spring. My father only cares for an elevation in status, while my mother only believes in her God. If only there were a way to escape to a faraway place where they could never reach me. Careful not to be spotted, I climb down the veranda and head towards what remains of my grandmother's garden.
The night air smells of marigolds and pine. It will soon be time to honor the ancestors, but of course, it will not be done the correct way. Grandmother used to speak of a time before the Viceroys and his people appeared, stealing our lands and changing everything that made us, us not just the way we worship and who we worship but also the way we celebrate, eat, dance, and drink.
While my grandmother continued to practice the old ways in secret, my mother is a whole different story, believing the lies the Raiders told. Why would only one God be the true god, and if so righteous, why forsake anyone who doesn't believe in his teachings? It just doesn't make any sense.
"It is a woman's duty to marry and bear children," Mother chastised when I stated my refusal to marry the Viceroys. Who would want to marry such an old man? All twenty-seven of the Viceroy's wives had met with their end either on their wedding night or after baring a child that man was simply cursed.
If only the man in my dreams were real, and if only I could hold him just once. Before the restless nights began, I used to dream of a man with sharp features and eyes that could pierce one's soul. The dreams felt so real; waking up always hurt.
The sun was about to rise, and yet I could not sleep. I climbed up the veranda and crawled back into bed, avoiding the night patrol. Azucena should be rounding the corner, ready to wake me for the morning service, which I would likely tune out.
As expected, Azucena entered the room and began opening the wardrobe, "My lady, it's time to get up." I could pretend to be asleep, but that would be pointless.
"How are you always in good spirits at such an hour?" I lift myself out of the bed and sit before the vanity. Azucena begins combing out my hair, which my mother always believed was too dark. Since my mother is fair enough, she could marry a noble, but what is carried in the bloodline cannot be hidden.
Extra care is always taken to ensure my features are not too Indigenous; apparently, resembling my ancestors is a sin. "You should be grateful God sent you a man willing to marry you looking the way you do." Mother chastised me when I continued to refuse the old Viceroy's proposal.
It was uncommon for any young lady or woman to refuse a marriage. I had become the talk of the town. All the overly religious ladies snipped here and there, calling me pretentious and ungrateful. Very few could understand why I refused the old Viceroy. The men assumed I was afraid to be the twenty-eight bride six feet under. I could say that was it, but death is not something I fear.
The face powder looked unnatural against my sun-kissed skin. Azucena continued adding it down to my collarbone. If it weren't for the gloves, I have a feeling my mother would demand the powder cover my arms. As usual, the bodice was too tight, as if my waist wasn't small enough. What I would give is to be able to eat as I please.
"A lady must be prime and petite. You are too tall, your hips too wide, and your chest too big." Lady Marisol always chastises, "Eat fewer. Men don't like stodgy women. Even if we cannot reduce your chest, at least the waist, we can hide."
What a great tutor! Mother chose a childhood friend who had recently been widowed; she had said when she moved her in. Who would have guessed she became my father's mistress? The Lord has a plan for all mother claims. She falls deeper and deeper into her beliefs, neglecting everything around her.
While Father falls deeper into his addiction, the fortune he inherited is almost nonexistent. We live off Lady Marisol's scraps.
The marriage arrangement is also Lady Marisol's doing; after all, if I marry the old Viceroy, her daughter won't have to. Poor Esperanza, this and that, as if she wasn't just like her mother; it is a miracle she hasn't gotten pregnant.
"My Lady, did you hear that today, nobles and traders from the East will arrive?" Azucena chats chirpily as a songbird. "I do wonder what they look like, and what language do you think they speak?"
"Why do you worry about the language?" I ask also wondering if I can escape on one of the Eastern ships.
"What if we can't communicate and trade fails," Azucena says wordily.
"That is not our concern," I tell her as I take the lace veil she hands me, "although I wonder what they look like."
The carriage ride to the cathedral is full of tension. Something must have happened for even Esperanza to be worried. Mother prays, and for once, Lady Marisol joins her in prayer. What could have happened?
I peek out the carriage window, hoping to catch a breath of fresh air, when a pair of black eyes catches my eye. Eyes I have only ever seen in dreams look back at me.
"What are you looking at?" Esperanza leans over, "Oh, why is everyone gathering near the foreigners? Could what they bring even be worth all the ruckus?"
Ignoring Esperanza, I scan the crowd but no longer see the owner of those piercing eyes. Perhaps I just imagined it. After all, how could someone I have only seen in dreams be real? We reach the Cathedral and dismount the carriage. Father is already seated with the rest of the men. He seems to be in deep conversation with Lord Narcissus. How he finds things to converse about is beyond me.
I sit next to Esperanza, and Mother and Lady Marisol take their place next to Dame Celeste. At home, they mock her for being a female knight, yet when in public, both pretend as if they revere her. After all, Dame Celeste is the old Viceroy's youngest sister and the old person who seems to find my marriage to her brother absurd. Yet no one cares to listen, and if even the Dame cannot get through to them, how can I? That is why my only hope is escape or death.