A DAMSEL'S CHOICE
The problem with being born is one does not ask to be. Marigold might have made peace with the fact that she was brought into this world without her consent. Her only karma was that she had been born with the damning symbol her mother carried. If she was not blemished, she might have had a good life. Her mother might not have taken her life and her father might have loved her. She would have a family name to go with the name Marigold. Marigold Renold had a nice touch to it. But the universe had a funny way of threading the fates of the people it hosted.
Marigold looked at the man who had let her rot in the four walls of the goddess Adora's temple and couldn't help but scoff. An unprecedented situation that the man could not control had somehow changed the lot in her favor. Although, Marigold refused to think of things in that light. Because this was simply a means to an end. The King's hand wanted to save his skin. That was the only reason this opportunity presented itself. She thought hard about it. She could refuse her father and feel a sense of momentary joy. The Goddess knew her heart. A stone image built for her reverence stood only a few inches away from where they both stood after all. But if there was truth in the words her father had spoken, Marigold could admit to herself that it would be a foolish decision to make. Obliging to her father's request could become a matter of life and death. If he had paid silver and gold to continually keep her a secret and ensure that she grew up safe in the confines of the temple, there would be talk when the King demanded the execution of the Renold house and she somehow survived it. Her head would follow. A dead woman could not become a temple sister. The difficult life Marigold had grown into had thought her that. Dreams and ambitions could be altered. Death on the other hand was permanent. She had to be smart about this.
"Is he rich?" Marigold proceeded to ask after the long stretch of silence. The man I will be marrying?" Marigold added to ensure her father got the message.
Lord Birley got the message alright. A crooked smile plastered his mouth. "Sir Layne Grimoult is an exceptional soldier working for the divine swords, an elite task force assigned to put down malicious Arcan kind."
A shiver spread through Marigold's skin when she heard her potential husband hunts her kind. "He hunts down Arcan?" Marigold rephrased, hoping her father would remember the whole reason for her tortured existence in the first place.
"Yes." Lord Birley supplied. "The divine swords are a sub-entity of this temple. Their job is to keep the citizens of this good kingdom safe from Arcan who use their gifts to terrorize humanity." The Lord's statement was followed by a long pause, almost as if he was keeping something from Marigold. "You will be fine."
That made sense. Marigold was willing to stick with that at least. She was not a threat. She had never hurt a fly and she was not activated. But something about this carousel of madness still made her embittered. Just when she was close to achieving something with her life, she was being thrown back into the life she had tried so hard to forget. This was not her choice. This was not what she had begged the goddess to fix in her life since she learned what a prayer was.
"Get your things then," The Lord cleared his throat. The man did not waste a breath. He had gotten what he wanted and what he needed next was to finalize the process before his abandoned daughter had a change of heart.
"Now!?" Marigold exclaimed. She could not fathom that her father would take this moment to demand more from her. "You forget how strange this situation is. I accepted your demand to marry a complete stranger to save your skin and you immediately want to whisk me into this man's house. I need some time. At least give me time to say goodbye."
He held up an imperious finger. "I would gladly give you more time. But the gentleman is also an impatient man. He wants to get the King's command out of his way as soon as he can. I would really appreciate it if you stop claiming that all of these are for my sake. It is for the family's sake, child, and no matter how much you hate me or that family name. It is engraved into your soul just like that blemish on your back. I see no reason for you to say goodbye too. I know for a fact that you have no friends and the only figure that show you compassion in this temple. The Sister. She only does it because it is a charge she is supposed to fulfill by her position within the fold."
His words were like a dagger flaying the skin ever so slightly in a way that hurt the most yet ensured the victim's continued survival.
"I do not care," Marigold retorted in a calm voice. She would not have this stranger whose only duty as her father was to bring her into existence and secretly throw money in her direction in a bid to keep her; his shame a buried secret. "Come and get me tomorrow or forget anything I agreed to. You forget so quickly that I am not at your mercy Father, you are. There is only so much an abandoned daughter can take. Who is to say I want to save this family? Who is to say I don't want this family to burn flesh, blood, and bones for all you have put me through? It would be the best revenge and I wouldn't mind it if the only consequence is that I follow you to the grave."
Lord Birley swallowed. His expression was difficult to read too. Marigold could tell that her outburst had kept him in check. She might have agreed to his proposal. But the man also knew that his daughter was volatile material and rightfully so. In the long run, there was no telling what would actions she would take against the Renold house in righteous rage. The lord figured it was wise to give the girl some space to breathe.
"I can give you the grace of today to say your goodbyes. Is that fine or do we all burn?" His tone suggested he wished they didn't, while he acted like he was doing his best to stay composed under pressure knowing that if not, Marigold may just burst out again. But Marigold could see the glow in his eyes. Her father knew he had won.
She took a deep breath. "That will work. Thank you." Marigold then bowed out of a sense of duty than actual respect. Her father was not a father and he never had been. This was a business deal. He got to keep his neck and name. She got to gain a new name and a new life.
"The carriage will be here to pick you up by dawn." The Lord informed his daughter. "Be ready." Then with one last look in her general direction, he left the room.
Marigold stared at the closed door long after he had closed it. How could this possibly end well? The tears she had managed to rein in finally started to fall. They flowed freely now as her mind replayed the events that had just transpired. Marigold's legs buckled and she fell to her knees. The tears continued to pour and a scream broke past her lips. A scream echoed throughout the temple. Her body trembled uncontrollably but she couldn't help herself. Marigold crawled to the beautiful statue of the goddess Adora. She hugged the cold marble, pressing her cheek to the woman's feet as if it were her mother, hoping somehow the statue could absorb her pain and relieve it of all the anguish building inside of her. The goddess seemed unimpressed. If any, Adora was the furthest thing away from comforting Marigold. Marigold cried.
"I do not want this, Adora. Let this travail go, please!" She sobbed. Her cries sounded pained to even her own ears. The pain seemed so overwhelming. "Let me just be a sister. Let me just serve you. I promise... I promise to worship you till I die, Adora."
But what followed was radio silence and it hurt to admit. But Marigold Renold, the true first daughter of the King's hand had reason to believe that it was because she was Arcan. A specie that betrayed the goddess. A stain on humanity. That killed her a little.