AGE OF FURS AND FEATHERS

CHAPTER 2

The man in the image and the man in person.

It was a known statement that a man could live without a woman, but not a woman without a man. It was a known culture, and nobody wanted to go against it for the sake of their lives and reputation. There was always a burning sensation within her when she her mind drifted to that ideology. She couldn't help but wonder if women were really weak and didn't have minds of their own.

Her mother had been that way too. But majority of the women she had come across always acted vulnerable, as though they would be melted by the sun. Was this the true nature of women, fragile, prone to literally everything asides from having children and staying indoors? If it was so why did she feel so different? Like things could change? She felt suddenly dumb for even thinking that things could change for a woman.

It was impossible. It was like this everywhere, it couldn't change. She stared at the sheet, spotting the red stain that made her squirm every second. She was at the mercy of a man who was of course a god, but what was she even? She was no goddess, let alone comparing herself to them. Even goddesses were at the mercy of their mates, not to talk of her who was merely a slave. She was no goddess, she was no supernatural being, just human.

How could one who was born from a god and a goddess be merely human? She thought. It was supposed to be impossible, but she sure knew her case was different. She didn't understand why there was a pang in her chest. She knew it wasn't from the night she had had with Lord Arram, the feeling had another impression. It was a feeling of want, and it had nothing to do with where she was at the moment, no, it was way beyond that. It was a strange feeling, frightening, but oddly elating. It was as thought it was related to her fate.

She brushed the feeling away from her mind. The fate of a woman was determined by her husband, after her father. She glanced at the god still sound asleep next to her and sighed, remembering what the maid had told her the other night. 'Study him and know his ways, be careful not to be allured by him. That should only be for his wife.' She couldn't deny that she had grown a little attached to him after last night, like it connected them in a sort of way.

She couldn't bring herself to trust the feeling though, even though it was a bit overwhelming. Perhaps this is what the women that had slept in this same room with him had had a similar feeling to hers and allowed it to dominate them. The question was what caused him to take their lives so easily? And was she going to be safe when he woke up? She remembered she had made a plan, and it was ruined the moment she heard she was going to be staying as his mistress. But perhaps it wasn't completely ruined.

If he let her go today, she knew she was going to the room where he kept his mistresses. Unless she was called, she wouldn't be coming into his bedroom. She heard a groan from beside her and her heard jerked toward the conscious man at the sound. Within the twinkle of an eye, he was caressing her cheek. It made her shiver. His touch didn't have that sort of effect on her before. It made her sick, but now, it was different.

"Such a remarkable beauty. So fragile." He whispered. Dionne was flustered. What happened to the Arram she witnessed before? Or had she been so blinded to not have seen this side of him?He'd been good since the beginning. She'd just been so down in her emotions and hatred for him. She noticed his lips quirk and remembered he could hear her thoughts. She watched as he got down from the bed before putting on his outfit, with one last look at her, he was out of the room in a flash speed.

She studied the chamber. It was obviously not his chamber because the bed was rather smaller than a master bed...it was more of a queen sized...wait. She leaned down on the bed to get a clearer view of the bed to see if she wasn't just assuming. Her mouth went agape. It was a queen sized bed. And she knee very well that no man slept with his mistress on this kind of bed.

Why would he leave her in such a huge room as this? She hadn't seen clearly the other night because it was dark. Even the candles weren't enough to lit up the whole room. But she was his slave. How could he treat her in such a noble manner? It was unheard of in the history of Otho. All gods had slaves and none of them were ever estimated like she was. Could it be because her past life had been a noble one? Or was he doing it because he truly wanted her?

A set of maids scurried in, taking the blanket after curtseying and addressing her with the name m'lady. It was the name they used to address every noble woman. She couldn't remember the last time she was addressed that way.

"M'lady." A maid called, causing the lass to glance at her. "Your bathe is ready." She nodded, and followed the maid to the door at the end of the room. The maid opened it and the young lass was astounded by what she was seeing. It was nothing like first bathing room she had been to, when she was dressed by the maid. It made her remember her home. She sighed, it was gone. She stepped into the bathing room before stripping. She helped herself into the tub before burying her body in the water. His mistresses were tended to this fancily?

Moments later, she was dressed in a blue gown that reached her knees. She walked down to the balcony, before leaning against the pillar. Her gaze travelled to the forest trees, and a tarred path that had divided them. Scaling through the path, at the far top was a black massive gate, adorned with flickers of gold. The gate needn't be controlled by anything or anyone, it opened on its own. She noticed a group of slaves at the field and how they worked with dull looking faces and thin bodies. They were all clothed in rag, and it reminded her of her years of being there as well. The times when they were all whipped and she was forced to do more than her normal strength could take. Are those days finally gone? She just had her bathe and was in a new outfit. Was she really going back to that cage? Shouldn't she be there by now?

He had always had his eyes in her business. Even though she was free from all the turmoil of slavery, how was she sure it was going to be permanent? How certain was she that she was even completely free? Her eyes lingered upon them and the slavers with whips. She felt a pang in her heart at the sight. The same feeling that had crept up to her chest earlier was back. That feeling of want, like there was something to reach for, something worth fighting for. She could feel her heart was moved seeing the torture these slaves had to face.

They were deprived of the lives they were to live because they were not gods or goddesses. They were being oppressed unjustly but never asked to be placed in that position. The pain of being a slave was worse than death. Though she was once one of them, it seemed like things had changed for her. She buried the feeling within her. It was foolish to think of rescuing those slaves. She couldn't do it without the intervention of Lord Arram, who apparently wouldn't heed to her statement. She was a woman after all, and he was the god of warfare. He wouldn't possibly retire from his duties because of her.

She was suddenly bored, and wanted to do anything but to remain here in this quiet room. She walked down to the massive door and twisted the knob before it opened. She popped her head from the end of the door to see if the corridor was vacant. When she was certain it was, she stepped out of the room, striding down the corridor while she gazed at everything, especially the vaulted ceilings and marble flooring.

The feeling of her body being stretched, after years of being kept in a cage, was foreign, yet enjoyable. Soon she noticed portraits embedded to the walls. She stared at each one, and instantly knew it was the images of all the past and present gods. Her father had had it in their home as well.

It was like a tradition to keep the portraits as a reason of remembrance. As she continued to stride anticipating to see the portrait of her parent, having seen that gods and goddesses were placed together. Although the woman's image was placed at the end of the frame, making the man receive the entire space.

It made anger wash through her, nonetheless, she continued to venture through the hall, staring at each portrait, until she stopped in her tracks. She turned to have a clearer view of her father, but her mother's picture was missing. She stared at her father's image a little longer.

How she had cried the day his bloody cloth had been brought home. He had gone on a trip, but never came back. His trip was to the king's castle, and her mother's death was caused by him. He had murdered her two parents. She walked a little bit further, and noticed the largest portrait, which was that of the king. She glanced down at the details.

Woden of Otho,

King of gods.

Born on the 1st year of the 17th Century,

She realised the month and date he was born wasn't mentioned. In a way she wasn't surprised, because she learned that he never celebrated his birthdays. It felt familiar, it had been a while since she celebrated her birthday as well. But that wasn't even the point. She observed his features, noticing he had a well sculptured face and chiseled jaw line.

Also he had a straight nose and perfect lips, but what captivated her was his eyes. They shone a dark form of red, and they gleamed as though his gaze could see through her. She remembered what she wanted. To avenge the death of her parents. She wanted that more than anything.

She noticed the scar on his left cheekbone, and she knew this scar was stitched. It was no ordinary scar, because no god sustained any wound. It was gone in half than a second. But this one meant something, someone had tried to kill him. She smirked unintentionally. Fortunately for him, there wasn't any woman who wouldn't still want him, regardless of the scar on his face.

It wasn't fair that a woman had to suffer the penalty of a scared face. He looked ready for to fight, like he was always on guard and would never let it down. The person who had managed to scar his face must have been almost as fast as the king or perhaps the king had almost let his guard down. But who could have wanted to kill the king?

"M'lady." Dionne turned to see her interrupter. It was the maid who had given her instructions the other day. With her was another maid who had nearly the same features as she did.

"You still haven't told me your name." Adeline spoke, causing the other maid to turn to her sister.

"Goodness Odette, were you caught up in instructing Lord Arram's mistress...again?"

"I didn't want any misfortune to befall her. You are quite aware of the kind of man Lord Arram is and what he has done to his past mistresses. How can I not instruct her?"

"My apologies m'lady." The older maid curtseyed. "My little sister fails to recall her manners when she begins to list her instructions. She's Odette, and I am Kathryn. Pleasure to make your acquaintance m'lady." Kathryn curtseyed. Dionne just stared, amused.

"Lord Arram has requested for your presence." Odette narrowed her eyes at Adeline who walked past them, before they followed her into her chambers.

She settled down on the seat in front of her mirror, staring at herself. It had been years that she had had a proper view of her features. She had changed from the young girl she used to be. Her features had a more mature look to it, and then her eyes, were still as grey as they used to be. Her flaxen hair, long and thick was folded by Kathryn, and styled into a bun while Odette picked out a dress from the closet, checking to see if it was the right style.

"I dare to say that I am shocked that Lord Arram as not harmed m'lady yet." Odette stated, causing a shocked gasp to emanate from Kathryn.

"Odette! Surly you have a death wish."

"Consider it. Majority of the maidens that stepped into this castle never lived to see the next day, not to mention having a personal chamber. Besides that he is requesting for your presence again, which in the history of me being in this kingdom as never been heard." Odette's words shook Adeline who turned.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"The chamber in which you had dressed the other day was where the mistresses had also dressed. When they were ready Lord Arram would walk in and do his business. I must say I was literally stunned when he had told me to escort you to your chamber." She emphasised.

And to think she was going to be disposed and sent back to being a slave. She wasn't shocked by the news as she should have been. This news came rather like an assurance than a surprise.

"Perhaps he has taken a liking to you?" Kathryn questioned, somewhat gaining a little boldness."

"Indeed, what else could this mean?" Odette questioned. Dionne couldn't even answer it because of her bewilderment.

"The king doesn't even visit any kingdom, but today is different being that he hasn't visited for a century." Dionne eyes widened at the mention of that title. King?

"He and Lord Arram used to be close acquaintances since the king and his father used to visit this place. But when his father died, King Woden had stopped visiting."

Adeline frowned. King Woden, he had been the one to kill her mother seventeen years ago.

"But why would his son suddenly stop coming?" Kathryn asked, working on Dionne's face.

"It's strange. Nobody knows. King Woden hadn't even visited Lord Arram's ball after being invited. Why would he suddenly arrive now?" Dionne found herself pondering Odette's words.

"I've heard the King Woden and Lord Arram used to be close acquaintances. When King Woden was a little boy, his father would pay homage to the province, giving both King Woden and Lord Arram to have time for themselves. But after the death of the king's father, he stopped visiting. It's odd. Now he doesn't even smile at his old friend not to talk of visiting." Kathryn emphasized. Both ladies were right? Dionne had heard the story from some of the slavers and it made her wonder why as well. But was it anybody's business though? No, it wasn't.

"Lady Dionne, I must say you are the first woman to have intrigued Lord Arram for him to make your stay this long. It's even shocking that he wants to introduce you to the king." Dionne snapped her head to Odette's direction consequently causing Kathryn to smear her ear with pink blush, but Dionne couldn't care any less.

She had thought she was going to meet with only him, but introduction? What could that possibly mean? It was to the king...the king! In the tradition of the gods, an introduction to the king wasn't just an ordinary kind. It had a huge meaning to it that goes beyond the introducer wanting just anything. It could be anything, but her sentiment wasn't doing well to encourage her.

"M'lady are you alright?" The maids noticed her tension. "It's like you aren't prepared for this."

"Of course, she isn't prepared, Kathryn. Look at her innocent eyes." Trying to calm down, Dionne turned back to the mirror thinking of other things as she tried to take her mind off the introduction. She sighed, before turning back to the mirror. She watched as Kathryn tenderly wiped the blush off her ear. She closed her eyes, trying hard to think about anything asides from what was trying to force itself in. What angered her the most? Women. Yes, that's it. Women are not being treated fairly by the world. Why did it have to be that way though? What if women were not as fragile as the world placed them to be?

"I've been thinking...."

"About what m'lady?" Kathryn asked.

"What if women didn't have to be this way? What if we can be equal to men?" Silence reigned. It was so quiet the soft fluttering of the light curtains could be heard. Dionne suddenly felt dumb. It was the dumbest thing to ever say, or think of.

"That can never happen in the centuries to come Lady Dionne. I simply cannot imagine this kind of happening. Are women, equal to men? That's impossible. We have always crumbled before men, we have always bowed, we have always feared them. We always do what they say, exactly what they ask of us, that's what we do. We dare not do what is not expected of us or we will never be able to serve in the house of our lords. We'll be considered rude, and not wife material. You know all these m'ladies. Why do you mention such?" Kathryn was right.

This was the repercussion. No woman had ever tried it, and no woman ever will. But she couldn't stop herself from wondering. Why do men get more privileges than women? Why was a woman trained to grow and marry and bear children while the men were trained to wield a sword and go to battles and become kings and rule?

Why was it that all women were considered frail and incapable and too emotional to build an empire? Why was she thinking about all these?

"Lady Dionne, permit me to instruct you. Lord Arram hates the idea of women trying to talk other women into being equal with men. He hates the idea of women being equal to men. So please do not mention or even think about that when you are around him because he may choke you to death.

A woman's pride is in her dignity, no man would want a man who keeps saying women should be equal to men. No man wants a woman who can defend herself, or take care of herself. All men prefer when a woman is dependent on them for everything. Being that kind of woman who wants to be equal to men will only chase them away from you.

It means you're rebellious, and nobody wants a rebellious woman, it makes her unattractive. And besides that, nobody would want to be around her because she's a troublemaker. That kind of woman wouldn't find a man, and she won't get married. Do you know what that means? She wouldn't have children, wouldn't even know what it means to love."

Odette's words shot through Dionne's bones. That was not what she wanted. She would have to abandon her life as an ordinary woman and live such a lonely life. Nobody wanted to be lonely, everyone wanted friends, to be around other people, is that not where joy is located, in the presence of people? She did not want to be isolated. And again she couldn't stand the criticisms that would come from that. She could even be killed. The rebellion was punishable by death.

"So m'lady, it would be wise if you just live this peaceful life. You already have an expensive roof that any woman would die for above your head. You have one of the most breathtaking and top eligible gods that women would kill to be with. You live such a luxurious life and Lord Arram is willing to give you all that you desire as long as you place yourself under his jurisdiction. Would you want to lose all that just because you want an impossible thing to happen? People won't even listen, they will only gossip and break you down. They will crush you Lady Dionne, and not many have been able to recover from the words of others." Odette warned.

"Could you not have found a tender way to mention it?" Kathryn questioned. Dionne realized Kathy was the softer one and Odette was blunt.

"But it's true, I may be blunt, but I'm honest., Odette stated. "This is a well-done job. M'lady, you look stunning." Dionne stared at herself in the mirror. Odette hurried up to bring her dress. It was a beautiful gold-colored satin dress with precious gems embedded in it. The waist was tight and so was the chest, but her busts weren't big at all. They were small, though visible, but still small. So the dress suit her body, and hugged her chest well, making them seem a little bigger, but was as modest as it could be. Then a dark green pendant was worn for her.

"It's time for your encounter." All the introduction memories came rushing back to her head. She visibly gulped.

She walked down the stairs, sensing the tingle of men on her neck. A hand was stretched out to her. Her gaze traced the masculine hand to the face, noticing it was Lord Arram. She placed her hand upon his, and he closed his upon hers leading her to the king who was seated on the widest seat. He was clothed in royal blue with a thick red cape, his red and gold crown sat on his head, and his hair hung loose to the nape of his neck. But something intrigued her more than all of them, and that was his markings.

A very dark blue marking all over his skin and face. Although the markings on his face were tinier than the ones on his skin, it still was much. But it still didn't make him any less intriguing. Everything about him was captivating....but he didn't have dark red eyes, they were sapphire blue, and neither was there any scar on his face. But the features were similar. The man in the portrait had no markings. Her brows furrowed. Why was the man in the image, so different from the man she was witnessing?