[Complete] Eroh has reached his seventeenth spring and has finally become a man. With manhood comes a gift: marriage to the woman he loves. But when a strange new woman from another world enters his life, he is stuck with the decision to honor his...
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I felt like I was in a dream. No. Dreams are more pleasant. This was a nightmare...
My father's grip was tight enough to tell me he was angry. That he knew I had kept my first blood from him. And that this was my punishment for keeping it quiet. Why else would he offer my horn without my knowledge? He never did such a thing to my sisters. Even when Heathren kept her own first blood secret for six months. This was out of spite. I knew better, and I failed to tell him.
Woogah! Woogah! Woogah! The crowd erupted.
I looked between the faces. Each grinning; some with blackened teeth, others without a row, most bright gold. All grinning at the decision that would be made. The decision Eroh would make.
Eroh ...
When I turned towards the young horn, I expected to see Eroh delighted by my father's announcement. It stunned me to find him dazed, like I'd struck him again in the cheek. It made little sense. Had I hurt his pride enough that he'd given up. That he no longer wanted my horn? He confessed his love only an hour prior ... could somebody fall out of love that quickly? Did all it take was a few cruel words and knuckled strike?
Enoch chuckled, rubbing his digits through thick mane. "Who will you choose, my boy? They're both prizes to be had in their own respects."
Prizes? I felt my eyes narrow. I am no prize to be won.
I felt the urge to cross my arms and glare at the Lord Horn, but held back my impulse. If I showed my genuine feelings, it'd only make my father squeeze harder. I was already a disappointment. His only hope would be if Eroh chose me. Which he would ... wouldn't he? Inside, a burning, squeezing feeling took my breath away. I clutched my chest. A strange, frightening thought cloaked my mind, causing my body to shiver. What if Eroh didn't choose me?
Again I brought my eyes upon him, trying to read his aquatic blue eyes. When that didn't work, I tried to get into his head. Would he really want to spend the rest of his life with that? I grimaced, looking upon Breeba. The God's were cruel to her; never blessed with anything but weight. A weight that'd strain the back of a horse and was uneasy on the eyes. The same weight that hung on each of Barthrax's kin. I was always thankful my mother chose not to marry him. She loved him at one time ... why I would never understand.
Eroh took a steady breath, "I am honored by both of you lords. This was a surprise, I do admit. If you, please, give me a moment."
Why does he need a moment? My forehead wrinkled as I shifted my weight onto my left leg, placing a hand on my hip. He could have my horn, all he'd have to do is say it. He was right, and I was wrong ... his father was giving him that choice. I envied him at that moment. A woman never had choices, it seemed. Only orders that we'd often have to obey. And if we were too weak or disobedient, they punished us. That's why we were women ... cause no man carried our strength.
