The Grey Ones

JUNIPER

“You have always been a disappointment, Juniper.” Richmond Arlington was a terrible man at times, but had always been a terrible father.

Juniper stood in front of his large desk in his study, her head bowed down and her hands knitted together. She had been crying since the carriage ride and no one but Garret had noticed. Now, in front of her father, she could cry no more. She had no tears for him and barely any love left to give him.

“Lord Christopher has seen a physician, thank the Builder,” said the Duke. “What were you thinking, bringing him to the invaders? He could have been killed, and then where would we be?”

“Father, it wasn’t my fault that Lord Christopher was reckless and disrespectful. I tried to keep him from going to the harbour, but he insisted.” She didn’t look at her father but her words were forced through gritted teeth.

“He was being brash, like any young man,” the Duke spat. “That beast had no business laying hand on the son of the Duke of Westbridge!”

Juniper shot a glare at him. “The Vasaath was defending my honour!” When seeing her father’s stern gaze, she quickly gulped and gathered herself. “Lord Christopher was vicious, unnecessarily so, and the general defended me when no one else would.”

The Duke sneered. “What honour? It is honourable spreading your legs to those grey bastards? If anything, you should be glad Lord Christopher even considers you for his wife!”

Juniper blinked, shocked. “I am your daughter, Father. How can you say such things?”

“Everyone is whispering about it,” he spat. “I knew it was a mistake sending you there, but Garret—oh, Garret—spoke so ardently about your intelligence. I should have known this would become the downfall of our great house.”

She gasped and couldn’t find words that would express how much hatred she felt for him at that very moment. She realised then that it would not matter what she said to her father—he would not hear it either way.

Finally, she said, “The more I speak with them, and learn about their culture and customs, the more I wonder if we are really doing what is best for our people by standing against them.”

“You are blind,” her father scoffed. “Stupid, naive, and blind. Or perhaps you’d like a life in chains—you will get them either way, because I have just confirmed the arrangement with Duke Cornwall. You are to marry Lord Christopher by the end of the month.”

Juniper flushed in anger. “You can’t decide that.”

“I can and I have.”

“Without my consent?”

The Duke laughed. “Consent? There is nothing to consent to, dearest daughter. You are to marry into a great and noble house, as is your duty. There is no free will. You will do this, you have no choice in the matter.”

She gritted her teeth and said bravely, defiantly, “If I convert to the Kasenon, you will have no power over me, Father.”

The Duke’s face reddened with fury, and he shot up from his seat, causing his daughter to cower before him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Juniper. You’d rather show your neck to those animals than honour your house and your people?”

“You said it yourself,” she croaked. “It doesn’t matter what I do, I’ll still end up in chains. But I’d rather have masters that respect me than masters that spit on my very existence.”

“Respect you?” her father scoffed. “You think that grey demon respects you? You’re a woman, for Builder’s sake, Juniper. You’re only good for one thing. When will you realise that? Do you think he will marry you, that he will want you to be the mother of his sons?” He smirked, sat back down, and said, “If that general hasn’t had you yet, I’m sure he’s just biding his time. You see, men only want one thing with women and if the man is powerful enough, he’ll have it sooner or later. Judging by your behaviour, I should just let him have you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I hate you!” she cried, her voice cracking, before turning on her heel and rushing out of the study.

She was furious—fuming!—and knew not what to make of herself. She didn’t want to storm off into her room, she was too angry for that, but she had nowhere else to turn. After making sure to slam her door, she pushed a large sideboard in front of the door to barricade herself in.

She wanted nothing to do with the world outside. She had been alone all her life. Her so-called friends were nothing but shallow ladies-in-waiting who thought life was made out of silk and luxury. She wanted to agree with them, to take interest in their fancy, but she found no pleasure in it. It was like torture having to listen to their mindless chatter about who the best match would be for them in matrimony, but she could not blame them for enjoying the things they had learnt to enjoy. So Juniper had always withdrawn to loneliness.

In truth, she could scarcely remember the last time she had had what she considered a true friend. That was until she met the Vasaath and his advisor. Yes, she did indeed consider them her friends. Whether they felt the same for her, she did not know.

She wondered if she had been serious or not when speaking with her father—did she truly mean that she saw no difference between the chains of her own faith and the chains of the Kasenon? She knew that her faith was not like the interpretation made by the Architects of the Structure; her faith revered kindness, sympathy, freedom… but her interpretation of the word of the Builder was far from the reality of those who exploited the Structure to rule over men—and womenfolk.

This, she knew. This, she had been forced to face these past moons, in her deep conversations with the Vasaath. She had been forced to confirm and accept her fate as a woman in a world ruled by men. She had always known her fate—a woman ought to marry and rear children, as told by the Builder. A woman was to follow, while a man was to lead.

The Vasaath had told her that the Kasenon did not put one sex above the other. A woman’s role was typically to counsel, to rear children, to heal, but there was nothing a woman was forbidden to do. The Vasaath had been very clear regarding that.

If a woman was given the role of kasaath, she was a warrior and required the same respect as any man of the army. The Great Mother ruled over them all, and no one would dare question a woman simply because of her sex. This, she had then told the Vasaath, was unlike anything she had ever heard of. It was too good to be true, but indeed it came with a price. That price was freedom—or rather, life. Which of the chains weighed heavier, Juniper could not tell.

She willed herself so sleep that night, partly out of pigheadedness, and partly out of exhaustion. When she awoke, a terrible banging was heard upon her door. She wearily arose, her hair dishevelled and her nightgown wrinkled. With great trouble, she pushed the sideboard back to its original place and unlocked the hinges of the door and opened it. Outside stood two large guards, a chambermaid in tears, and a bewildered Garret.

“My lady,” said he. “We thought something dreadful had happened to you!”

Juniper scowled. “Can’t I ever get some privacy? Can’t I, for once, spend a morning in bed without being rushed awake?”

“But my lady,” said Garret, “they are announcing your engagement today.”

At once, her face soured. “He couldn’t even wait until all the details were settled before announcing it, could he? He couldn’t even wait a day?”

“Your father is very eager to have it announced, my lady,” said Garret. “He claims it will show strength and unity to the people. You need to look your best.”

“He could make the decision without me; I’m sure he can announce it without me.”

“But, my lady… it is your wedding, after all.”

Yes, Juniper thought, it was her wedding—but that did not stop her father. She thought of replying sharply, but held her tongue. She allowed the chambermaid to enter her room while Garret and the guards left.

The chambermaid, Tilly, was a good sport. She spoke about things that she hoped would defuse the tension, even though she did not succeed. Juniper endured the girl’s harmless chatter and when she was dressed, she made her way to the dining hall to have some breakfast. She was, however, quickly fetched by Garret and brought to her father in his study.

He was behind his desk, writing something that seemed to be of importance. It seemed to be so important that his daughter would have to wait. She stood by the door, sighing and silently protesting.

Finally, he acknowledged her, even though he did not look at her. “I hope your attitude will be better at the announcement.”

“Why? So the people won’t see my dissatisfaction?”

“Oh, yes, everyone should feel so terribly sorry for you,” the Duke drawled. “How horrible it must be, being married to a wealthy lord and promised a prosperous life.”

“I am promised, against my will, to a horrible and pathetic excuse of a man,” Juniper spat.

“Spare me the self-pity, Juniper,” said her father. “It makes your face look aged. It’s unflattering. You will do as told. End of discussion.”

“But Father—”

“End of discussion.” Finally, he looked at her. But it was a short look, barely a glance, as he returned his attention to his work. “Tidy yourself up. We will reveal your engagement in an hour, and I won’t have my daughter looking like a kitchen maid.”

Juniper bit her tongue. It would be no use telling him that she had already tidied herself up, that it would get no better than this, and she left his study. She thought about running away, perhaps down to the docks.

In a moment of weakness, she imagined the Vasaath coming to her rescue, lifting her in his strong arms and taking her away to a faraway land where he made her his wife and promised to care for her and protect her always.

But she knew that the Vasaath would not rescue her—he had no interest in her but to convert her, and she knew enough of the Kasenon to know that it was not the answer. Every step she took towards her future seemed to add another bar to her cage.