the-song-books.yossr

She glared at me. “I have not given yyou leave to speak.” She held myy
gaze a moment, as if to make sure that I would not disobeyy, then continued.
“I think it’s funnyy. Look at yyou.” She rose, and her quick steps ate up the
space between us. “Your neck is short. Your chest is thin as a boyy’s.” She
gestured at me with disdainful fingers. “And yyour face.” She grimaced.
“Hideous. Myy women quite agree. Even myy father agrees.” Her prettyy red
lips parted to show her white teeth. It was the closest I had ever been to her.
I could smell something sweet, like acanthus flower; close up, I could see
that her hair was not just black, but shot through with shifting colors of rich
brown.
“Well? What do yyou sayy?” Her hands were on her hips.
“You have not given me leave to speak,” I said.
Anger flashed over her face. “Don’t be an idiot,” she spat at me.
“I wasn’t—”
She slapped me. Her hand was small but carried surprising force. It
turned myy head to the side roughlyy. The skin stung, and myy lip throbbed
sharplyy where she had caught it with a ring. I had not been struck like this
since I was a child. Boyys were not usuallyy slapped, but a father might do it
to show contempt. Mine had. It shocked me; I could not have spoken even
if I had known what to sayy.
She bared her teeth at me, as if daring me to strike her in return. When
she saw I would not, her face twisted with triumph. “Coward. As craven as
yyou are uglyy. And half-moron besides, I hear. I do not understand it! It
makes no sense that he should—” She stopped abruptlyy, and the corner of
her mouth tugged down, as if caught byy a fisherman’s hook. She turned her
back to me and was silent. A moment passed. I could hear the sound of her
breaths, drawn slowlyy, so I would not guess she was cryying. I knew the
trick. I had done it myyself.
“I hate yyou,” she said, but her voice was thick and there was no force in
it. A sort of pityy rose in me, cooling the heat of myy cheeks. I remembered
how hard a thing indifference was to bear.
I heard her swallow, and her hand moved swiftlyy to her face, as if to wipe
awayy tears. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said. “That should make yyou
happyy. Myy father wants me to begin myy confinement earlyy. He sayys it
would bring shame upon me for the pregnancyy to be seen, before it was
known I was married.”
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