by Luna Voss
“The first restriction placed upon an Unproven Bride is the burden of silence,” the Kyrzon priest continues. “From now until the completion of your mating ritual, you will not be allowed to speak. Not a word. To anyone. This is so that our chief may discern your true character, without being fooled by the deceptions of the tongue.”
Instantly, I feel the urge to clear my throat, and then stop myself. Shit, does that count is talking? That’s definitely not the same thing as talking, right?
I can already tell this is going to be hard.
“The second restriction placed upon an Unproven Bride is the burden of clothing,” says the priest. “From now until your bonding ceremony, the chief will not be allowed to see you at any stage of nudity. You will wear clothing in his company at all times. This is so that our chief may discern your true character, without being distracted by the temptations of the flesh.”
Yeah, I like that restriction even less than the first one. I thought the one bright spot in all this would be Gurrak having his way with me, just like he did during the carriage ride. Now they’re telling me I’m not even allowed to undress around him? I do my best not to let my disappointment show on my face.
“The third restriction placed upon an Unproven Bride,” begins the priest, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes —there’s another restriction?— “is the burden of of the lips. Just as you are not allowed to use your mouth to speak, you are also not allowed to use it to kiss. This is so that our chief may discern your true character, without being influenced by the seductive ways of humans. As with the other restrictions, you will obey this rule faithfully until your mating ritual is complete.”
I can’t help but laugh a little bit internally at this one. We’re not allowed to kiss? The whole thing seems kind of silly.
But it’s clear that none of the Kyrzons around me think that it’s silly. They all look deadly serious, their faces somber. Gurrak is beaming at me, his face proud. It’s obvious that this ritual means something to him.
And so I nod, careful to avoid letting even a quiet “mhm” slip past my lips.
The priest turns back to the crowd, raising his arms above his head. “Warriors, I introduce to you Julia of Clan Gurrak, new candidate for the mother of our clan.”
“May she prove her worth a hundred times over,” the crowd chants back in response.
Chapter Ten
After my weird ritual introduction to the clan, the whole group starts to walk en masse into the Clan Gurrak settlement. Now that my eyes are adjusting to the light, I can see that the place where we have been assembled was actually a clearing in the woods outside the Capitol, just outside the city’s entrance.
Chief Gurrak walks next to me, talking and laughing with several other warriors. The fact that I’m not allowed to speak feels painfully restrictive, considering that I’m meeting for the first time the people who will eventually become my extended family. I want to introduce myself to them, to give them an idea of who I am.
Of course, I really have no idea what I would even have to talk about with a tribe of savage warriors. The life I’ve led up until this point has been utterly different from theirs in every single way. They were raised to be strong, to fight, to dominate those around them and to take what they want from this world through strength.
I, meanwhile, was raised to be meek. To fear everything about the world outside the walls of New Sutter. To simply go through the motions, doing my part until the time came to surrender myself and become the purchased mate of an unfamiliar alien.
Growing up as a Kyrzon Bride in New Sutter, strength and independence really aren’t important or valuable attributes at all.
What’s important is the ability to persevere.
And that, I realize, is exactly the quality that’s required if I am to complete my period of being an Unproven Bride successfully.
And so, drawing on the resilience that my upbringing has taught me, I keep my mouth shut and act as a silent observer as we walk through the settlement.
I see buildings around me. Huts, tents, places that look like family dwellings. I see clotheslines strung between them, garments very much like the ones I’m wearing hanging to dry.
Apparently this is what a Kyrzon city looks like.
In front of us, in the middle of the settlement, I see a very large structure, the placement of which makes me think of the ship in New Sutter. A town center of sorts, perhaps.
“This is Castle Gar,” Gurrak tells me as we approach. “Once you have become my Queen, we will live here together.”
Castle Gar is not a grounded spaceship. Instead, it’s made out of stone. It is by far the nicest and most permanent-looking building in the entire city. In a way, it reminds me of the castles that I’ve seen in Earth movies. I almost feel like there should be a knight in shining armor standing out front.
We file into the castle and enter what appears to be a dining hall. The room is huge, with long, wooden tables spanning its length. Upon each table is a tremendous spread of food, mostly made up of dishes that I don’t recognize.
I guess this is my first opportunity to sample Kyrzon cooking.
Gurrak and I sit down next to each other, and the warriors that he has been talking to take their places around us. There’s no blessing or ceremony around the food; everyone just digs in and starts eating. I follow suit, only now realizing just how hungry I am.
The food is good. Kyrzon cooking is apparently very agreeable to the human palate, with similar use of flavors. I find myself especially enjoying a thick, hearty stew made from a type of meat that I don’t recognize.
Around me, the warriors continue to talk, paying me little heed. Gurrak introduces me to several of them, but without being allowed to join in the conversation, I quickly find myself bored. I amuse myself by looking around the hall around me, taking everything in.
The whole environment feels so different from what I’ve experienced in Human Territory. The only thing I can relate to it is the saloon in New Sutter when it fills up with Kyrzons before an Auction Day. On the occasions that I’ve been brave enough to go in despite the Kyrzon presence, I can remember experiencing the same rambunctious energy. The aliens don’t eat sloppily, but neither do they go out of their way to be polite, scarfing down their food in the way you might expect of a clan of warriors. At the tables around me, I see Kyrzons drinking and laughing, clearly enjoying the festivities.
I munch my food and drink my drink, which seems to be some kind of wine made from the Kyrzon sugarfruit. The sugarfruit wine is delicious, and by the time I’m on my second glass, the world around me is a little bit blurry. This perks me up somewhat, and makes it easier to enjoy a situation where I’m the only person who isn’t allowed to speak. At the same time, though, being buzzed causes me to worry that I might accidentally let a word slip out, and so I decide to cut myself off after glass number two.
It isn’t until the meal is nearly over that I suddenly notice one of the Kyrzons sitting at the other end of the table is a woman. I do a double take, trying not to stare at her too obviously. I’ve never seen a Kyrzon female before.
She’s noticeably smaller than the males, but still far bigger than I am. Her form is slender, and obviously feminine, but I can see taught muscles rippling in her arms that most human women could only dream of having. Her dark hair is long, held behind her head in an intricate braid, and she wears clothes similar to the men, the most noticeable difference being that the hem of her shirt allows for a significant amount of cleavage.
She catches me staring, and makes eye contact with me. I smile at her, hoping for some kind of girl-to-girl solidarity, but she scowls, her expression unmistakably hostile. I look down at my food, taken aback. What the hell was that?
I’m even more thrown off a few moments later, when I’m jarred from pretending to pick at my food by the sound of a woman’s voice. I look up, and see that the Kyrzon female is now standing right in front of where Gurrak and I are sitting.
> “I wanted to give my best wishes to your new Bride,” she says to Gurrak, her tone light and innocent.
“Thank you very much, Zyzza,” he replies, beaming at her. “She is already making me very happy.”
For the briefest of moments, something flashes across the Kyrzon woman’s face. A quickly-hidden burst of anger in response to Gurrak telling her that I made him happy. And then her face is warm and friendly again, and she’s giving Gurrak a big hug. She leans in to hug me too, and as she does so, she squeezes my arms so hard that it hurts. I wince, trying not to vocalize in pain.
Zyzza releases me, and then turns back to the chief. “I hope she is still making you happy a moon from now, when it is time for you to decide whether or not to keep her,” she says sweetly. She hits me with the evil eye for a split second before smiling at Gurrak and returning to her seat.
Gurrak doesn’t seem to have noticed that there was anything threatening about the encounter. He smiles, looking content, and puts his arm around me.
“I love showing you off to the rest of the clan,” he whispers in my ear.
A little while later, the priest from earlier approaches. I can see now in the light that it is tattoos, and not paint, that cover his face.
“It is time for Final Words,” he says to Gurrak, and both of them glance at me.
“It is tradition that on the night an Unproven Bride begins her month of silence, she will have one opportunity to address the clan,” the chief tells me, taking my hand. “This takes place at the end of the night’s feast. Come.” He stands up, and I do the same, allowing him to lead me to the front of the room.
Every Kyrzon in the room raises their eyes to look at me. I focus my gaze above their heads, not wanting to look at Zyzza, who I have no doubt is fixing me with a hostile glare.
“You may speak,” Gurrak whispers into my ear. “This is your chance to make a good impression.”
Well fuck, thanks for warning me. I don’t exactly have a speech prepared. My mind races through what I’d like to say, and I do my best not to allow my cheeks to turn red.
“I’m so glad to be here,” I say finally, and I know it sounds lame. I can see the room full of aliens staring at me, waiting for more. I shuffle my feet, trying to channel the formal tone of the ritual from earlier as I formulate my next words.
“I shall do my best to observe your traditions faithfully,” I continue, “and to heed the restrictions placed upon an Unproven Bride. I will prove myself a worthy mate to your chief, and I look forward to the day that I can share words with my new clan.”
The warriors applaud and clink their cups together. My eyes land briefly on Zyzza, and I can see that she looks frustrated by the positive response to my speech.
“You did great,” Gurrak whispers to me, squeezing me from behind.
The priest stands up next to us at the front of the room, facing the tables. “She has spoken,” he announces in a loud voice to the assembled Kyrzons. “The next time you hear her voice, it will be either because she has proven herself, or because she has failed.”
Chapter Eleven
The chief and I aren’t allowed to sleep in the same bed until I have proven myself as a Bride, and so after the feast, I am shown to my guest quarters, which are on the bottom floor of the castle. My room is comfortable enough, and the stone walls are a big change from the bedroom I’m used to, a cabin on a spaceship.
Gurrak holds my hands as he says goodnight to me, and it’s a serious bummer that we’re not allowed to kiss. This whole ritual thing I’m having to go through sucks. It’s making it impossible for me to feel comfortable here. For fuck’s sake, I can’t even talk?
Not to mention, I’m not allowed to take my clothes off in front of Gurrak. That alone prevents most of the activities I’d like us to do together. I could probably deal with the lack of talking if Gurrak was allowed to touch me every night the way he did in the carriage.
The Kyrzons are a more ritualistic people that I had expected. Growing up in Human Territory, this is a side of them I never had the chance to see. It never occurred to me that the tribes would have specific traditions around the claiming of a Bride.
Of course, I don’t remember Cleo telling me anything about being an Unproven Bride, or having to keep silent for a month. Things must work differently in Clan Drokal.
Lucky for her.
Cleo! Shit. She’s probably worried sick about me. If Kalish has even made it back to Drokal territory, that is. Now that I think about it, he’s probably still traveling home from the auction.
Although I don’t know what Kalish looks like, I imagine him at the auction house, waiting for the auctioneer to call my name. I imagine his surprise and confusion when the auction ends, and no human named “Julia” has been sold.
I need to get in touch with Cleo. I need to let her know what happened, and that I’m safe.
My communicator.
I pull the little radio out of my bundle of personal items. Thankfully, I charged it before I left, and it still has a full battery. The harder part will be getting a signal. There’s some kind of weird interference covering this entire planet that prevents long-range communication. The only way Cleo and I have been able to talk in the past is because she and Chief Drokal live in a grounded spaceship, and it has technology that has allowed her to boost the signal.
I highly doubt this stone castle has a signal booster. And besides, I’d be in big trouble if anyone overheard me speaking into my radio.
Still, I have to try. There could be some kind of magical spot somewhere in the castle where I’m able to get a signal. It’s not impossible, right?
I get up from my bed and creep out into the hall. It’s night, and it seems that everyone else in the castle is asleep.
Perfect. I turn on my communicator, the volume turn down low, and watch the little light that will turn green if I’m getting the signal I need.
I turn a corner. I’m not seeing anything so far, but that’s fine. The whole idea is a long shot, anyway. Whether it works or not, it’s a good opportunity to explore the castle that I now call home. I head up a flight of stairs, assuming that higher is better when it comes to getting my radio to work.
The stairs spiral upward, and soon I find myself at the top of a tower with open walls and a great view of the sky. My communicator isn’t flashing green, but it’s beautiful up here, and I’m glad to have found the place nonetheless. I walk slowly, gripping the railing, my eyes still adjusting to the darkness.
“Enjoying your new home?” says a woman’s voice from behind me.
I jump about a mile in the air, squeaking in surprise and dropping my communicator. It crashes to the ground, smashing into several pieces.
“Oh fuck, no!” I yell in dismay, diving down and trying to pick up the pieces.
Fuck is right. I definitely just spoke. I cover my mouth, horrified, turning behind me to the source of the voice.
It’s a woman I don’t recognize.
A human woman.
She looks to be in her mid-40s, thin, with long, brown hair. For a moment, we just stare at each other, and my mind races. Am I in trouble? Is she going to tell on me?
“Relax, you don’t have to look so scared,” she says, laughing. “I’m not going to tell anyone I heard you talk.”
My shoulders slump in relief, and I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Thank you,” I sigh in relief, and then clap my hand over my mouth again, horrified.
The woman giggles. “You’re really bad at this.”
I try to my mime a reply before giving up in frustration. She giggles again.
“I’m Kayla,” she says, holding out her hand. I shake it, pointing to myself and mouthing Julia without vocalizing.
“Oh, give it a rest,” she says. “I’m not going to tell on you. Although you’re right to be careful. Most people here won’t be so forgiving.”
I hesitate, and she rolls her eyes. “It’s okay! You can talk. At least, to me, up here. Look
at me, I’m a human, aren’t I? I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know what it was like to be an Unproven Bride.”
She has a point. “Okay, fair enough,” I say, keeping my voice down nervously. “Hi, I’m Julia.”
“I know who you are,” she says, looking amused. “The whole clan knows who you are. I was there when your carriage arrived. And at the feast.”
“Oh,” I say awkwardly, looking down at my broken communicator.
She looks down too. “Was this important?” she asks, nudging a piece of the radio with her foot.
“It’s a communicator,” I tell her. “I have a friend who lives in another clan. I was going to try to talk to her.”
She gives me a funny look. “Have humans unlocked some kind of new communication technology I don’t know about? Because last I remember, that kind of long-range communication is impossible on Kyrzon. Some kind of interference in the atmosphere or something.”
“No, that hasn’t changed,” I tell her. “But my friend has been able to work some kind of magic on her side that’s been making it work. She’s really good with tech. I know it was probably stupid to think I could get a signal, but I just really wanted to talk to her tonight.”
Kayla pats me on the shoulder sympathetically. “This must be a really big transition for you, huh? I remember when I was sold, 25 years ago. I thought I was going to keep in touch with all my friends who had their Auction Days around the same time as mine.”
“I take it that you didn’t?”
“No,” she says, just a little bit sadly.
“Why not?”
“For the same reasons as you. Unless they’re fighting, the Kyrzon clans mostly keep to themselves. And without long-range communication, there’s just no way. Sometimes I ask my husband’s friends to ask around when they go to the auctions, but that’s all.”
