Caught in the Fox’s Teeth

Chapter 3: Taryn

“What happens to a widow in Daodan?”

“Pardon?” I ask, unsure of what he is asking exactly. I was not aware of there was something more I should be doing in my situation. The lord looks at me, mock sympathy in the smug way he appraises me. As if the poor little waif from Daodan could not be any simpler. My teeth grit together as I attempt to stay my features.

“What do young and healthy Daodan widows do when they find themselves no longer wed and without children?” He speaks slower, only giving me the needed affirmation that the high lord does in fact think I’m dimwitted. I don’t know how it’s possible but my teeth clench harder together, so hard that I fear they will shatter in my skull.

“What use would you be then, Taryn? No pretty face to look upon…” My mother’s cruel words haunt me even now in this foreign land. She valued beauty above all else, it was my father that insisted I learned things of substance. Mother’s desires were for me to land a wealthy lord and use my feminine wiles along with my cunt to manipulate my husband. So much faith and stock was put into my training that I attended “pillowing” classes regularly. Unwed and available vixens would learn what was expected of them on their wedding nights when they were to bestow their most precious gift to their husband’s. I always thought it was a load of horseshit myself. My value, and the value of other women, is not equated to who we f**k. The males of our species are too f*****g awestruck by what lies between a woman’s thighs to think of all the ways we should be cherished. My maidenhead is not some trophy to collect despite It being said that powerful men want a chaste virgin to wed but a hellcat to bed. That is what our tutors taught us. We were never to truly lie with the males we would practice with but there were other lessons to learn. We had to rotate partners often to avoid any attachments or bonds. I guess one too many horny virgins dry humping desperate men ended one too many betrothals so the tutors grew wise to such tactics.

“Taryn? Are you deaf, girl?” Dryndenn drags me out of my past. I had been blissfully unaware of the judgements being passed onto me for a few moments. I quickly come back to attention and school my features into a reserved mask. I remind myself to take a deep breath. I am made of stone. This man will not break me. Whatever news he will deliver to me will not be my downfall.

“I don’t think I understand what you’re asking, my lord. Widows do as they please. They mourn their mates, but some choose to remarry.”

Dryndenn stares at me for a long time. The silence uncomfortable and forced until a raucous laugh erupts from his booming chest. “I thought as much. You women have far too many freedoms where you’re from.” He feigns wiping a tear from his eye as if I had just told the funniest joke. Bastard. I’m glad he finds humor with socially evolved society that treats its women with a modicum of respect, pillowing being the exception and not the rule. I remind myself that I was still in an arranged marriage so I can’t be too haughty. While Daodan is more progressive and supportive of its women, we are still given away like chattel and bred like livestock though we are empowered to find enjoyment in pleasures of the flesh so long is that flesh belongs to the men we are bonded to.

“What would you have with me, my lord? I am tired and weary. The day has been miserably long. All I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. Speak your peace and let us be done here.” I say the words without bite. I am too tired for a fight right now. I mean as I say. I just want to go sleep.

“Bowen’s siblings have scattered to the winds, but do you remember his brother and my second son, Odin?”

My stomach knots. Odin is very much his father’s son. I remember him briefly from mine and Bowen’s wedding. He stayed for the nuptials and then disappeared into the throng of people. He barely said two words to Bowen and he pretended I didn’t even exist. In short, I remember Odin but I don’t remember him fondly. I keep my answer simple. “Yes.” I don’t tell my false father that Odin struck me as a self-important prick like his sire. I feel like that wouldn’t earn me any points and as much as I hate to admit it, I need Dryndenn in my corner right now. I’m too tired and he’s too powerful to make him my enemy.

“Good. He’s on his way here from Tokal. I expect he will arrive within a fortnight.”

“Ok.” I shrug. “I would be happy to have him visit my home if that is his desire. I assume he will want to hold vigil for his past brother?”

A wicked smile curls my father’s cruel lips. “No child. Not for a vigil… but funny you should mention your home. If you recall, this manse was my son’s property. I gifted it to him along with his position. It is a Vulpin seat of power where there has always been a Vulpin lord at the helm.” Dryndenn states smugly. The emphasis he puts on the word “lord” gives me pause. My stomach twists painfully.

“And upon his untimely death, his belongings transfer to his wife, as is the law and custom. That’s me. I am said wife.” I grin back. The booze in my veins is giving me an extra boost of courage. I feel as if I could go toe-to-toe with this brute and come out unscathed.

“Wrong.” Dryndenn purrs. “That may be how the Daodans do things, but here in Estrajia, things are very different.” He pauses for dramatic effect, sipping from his glass while eyeing me with deadly intent before sucking his teeth and continuing. “Bowen’s possessions pass down to his brother.” My jaw drops. No. It can’t be. Where will I live?! I have nowhere else to go save back to my father’s house in Daodan. I did not think I would be shipped back to my own father so quickly. He could hardly wait to marry me off for his political gain, what will he do now that I have little value as a pre-owned bargaining chip? I had been untouched then; my options nearly limitless. Now I am a widow at twenty-two. I can almost see my fathers scowl, as if it is my fault that Bowen f*****g died before I could produce an heir. My heart aches. Could this day get any worse?

I let out a resigned sigh. “Right.” My lips stretch into a thin line. “I assume you or my father will see me safely back to Daodan then. I will ready my things.” Without another word I spin on my heel and head for the door. I’ve lost my husband and now my home. I guess this poorly timed conversation couldn’t wait until after I had time to mourn.

“Wait daughter. I did not dismiss you yet.” My master’s words are dark and brooding. My feet feel as if they’ve grown roots. I could not take another step if I tried. My father-in-law slithers over to me, moving as swiftly as the viper he is. Poised to strike, ready to deliver his deadly bite. “You misunderstand me.” His voice is thick and syrupy as if spoken from a honeyed tongue. I turn to face my monstrous lord, his palm gripping my shoulder. His brown eyes drift to my lips before oozing down my body. I feel his gaze land on my breasts. He ogles me like I am a slab of meat on display.

A cruel smile curves up his lips and his hand smooths down my figure languidly before it rests casually on my hip. The gesture is anything but fatherly. I shiver. “The agreement, my dear daughter, extends to his pretty young wife.” Dryndenn makes a move to fist my blonde curls. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

“Excuse me?” I whisper, unable to stop myself from speaking.

“You, my lovely Taryn, are to become Odin’s. It is the Estrajian way I’m afraid.” He makes a poor attempt at looking upset, a false pout on his lips.

“No. I won’t. You can’t make me.” The words come unbidden. I will not be saddled with a younger version of the beast before me. I slide from the high lord’s grip only to be caught at the nape of my neck. He squeezes gently. It doesn’t hurt but the message is clear. If you make a move, I will make you regret it.

“Actually… I can. It is part of the agreement I had with your father. You are to produce an heir to the Vulpin line and since I see no babe at those beautiful breasts of yours, you have not yet fulfilled your obligations.” The old fox. It’s no wonder that’s where their family name originated. They are a crafty and slick bunch. No doubt the language in my contract was vague enough to allow for such a union. Dryndenn cups my hand sympathetically, issuing me pandering pats as he leads me back to the fire. If my father were here before me, I would f*****g strangle him. The things we women endure to advance the status of men. Disgusting.