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I dared to lift my head, refusing to cough or whimper from pain. There, with the dining hall now silent around us, our eyes met and I refused to look away.

I knew I was supposed to submit, but I couldn't. The pain was meant to remind me of my place, yet it didn't. Instead, I was enraged, wishing there was some way for me to fight back.

But that was impossible. If I tried, this would only get worse. All around us were other men who'd jump in to help Gideon. Such an act of defiance would get back to Ms. Lawton, who would fill my free time with chores. Every Righteous in the compound knew that if a woman refused to be meek and subservient then she would be ground down until there was no other option.

And yet I stared, refusing to look away. It was the only act of defiance I had left.

"Merienne is done with childish things," Gideon told me. "You will not seek her out. You will not ask her for help. She has duties and responsibilities, and I will not have a group of girls interfering in my life! Do you understand me?"

I said nothing, but my mind was stuck on those wounds. If I just reached up, I could grab the one by his hip. The pain would drop him to his knees. I knew the sutures on his chest must have been strained. For all I knew, the injuries were red and infected, and for a moment I dared to hope this man would be taken by a fever for what he'd done to us.

But my mouth didn't move. I didn't lift my hand. All I did was stare. On the far side of the table, Callah had her head bowed over her meal, doing her best to act as if she was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was safest. It would keep her from getting noticed.

Gideon could feel the defiance in my gaze, though. "Do you understand me?" he demanded again before swinging.

Once more, pain exploded on the side of my face. This time, the hit was hard enough to knock me back. The world around me felt like it was spinning.

I knew his weaknesses, but I still couldn't defend myself. I was well aware of how to hurt him, but my body was too frail and delicate to even protect myself. No matter how hard I wanted to fight back, I couldn't. Gideon would simply keep hitting me over and over until I gave in.

So I lowered my eyes as I sat up again. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kobrick," I whispered. "I understand you. It was never my intention to interfere in your marriage. I will not do it again." And this time, my eyes stayed on the ground.

Meek.

Dutiful.

Submissive.

That was what a woman should be. It was the only way to protect ourselves. Fighting back was foolish and a sign of pride - a sin. It was how the Devil made his way into our minds. In all our classes, Mr. Cassidy stressed how important it was for women - always women - to learn our place and never dare step out of it. So I sat there, waiting for Gideon's approval.

The man grumbled under his breath, but just when I was sure he'd kick me again, he turned. Thankfully, Meri had found her feet, so when Gideon stormed towards the hall, she fell in behind and beside him with her head down and her hands clasped before her. He didn't even bother to check if she was following.

I hated all of it. Worse, I despised the ones who'd witnessed this and had done nothing to stop it. Men or women, it didn't matter. No one cared if we were trying our hardest to be proper ladies. No one was worried about how much those blows had hurt me.

Oh, and they hurt. My head was throbbing. My gut felt like fire had been set free on my skin. Before I even thought about moving, I quickly ran over every inch of my body with my mind, trying to see how bad the damage was.

Nothing was broken. I couldn't be sure I wouldn't heave if I moved, but I also couldn't stay on the floor forever. So, pulling in a deep breath, I did my best to get back to my feet in a modest manner. Keeping my skirts around my legs was easier said than done, though.

My head wanted to swirl. My body screamed in protest. I could feel the bruises growing, but all I did was smooth my skirts down, dust my hands off on them, and then reclaim my chair. The food on my plate was probably cold by now, but that didn't matter. I'd eat it as if nothing had happened, because it was what women were expected to do.

I barely had the first forkful between my lips before the hum of conversation returned. Not surprisingly, the loudest voice was a man's.

"Looks like Mr. Kobrick is doing well with his new bride."

Another man laughed. "You sure can't say he's sparing the rod."

"Ah, but it's hard for those girls to adapt to their new status," a third man added. "They're so spoiled as children, and then everything changes."

"Which is why it's good that he's training her early," the first man said.

I wanted to look, to see who was talking, but I didn't dare turn my head. Right now, I had too many eyes on me. For the rest of the night, all the women would be dissecting what I'd done wrong and how to prevent such a foolish mistake themselves.

But Callah didn't have that problem. With her head down, her eyes were flicking from side to side. She kept her fork moving from her plate to her mouth, yet when she saw me watching, my friend dared to offer a weak and sympathetic smile.

"Who?" I asked.

"Mr. Saunders, Mr. Morgan, and Mr. Myers." She took another bite, chewing quickly before she continued. "In that order."

"Anyone else staring?"

"Everyone," she breathed. "Ayla, are you okay?"

"Nothing broken," I promised.

"Then eat fast," she said as she scooped up the last bite. "I don't want to leave you here alone."

"Go," I told her. "I'll meet you in our room."

She swallowed her food and lifted her head. Those green eyes of hers were sad. The look in them matched how I felt: hopeless. But with no more words shared between us, she gathered up her things, stood, and headed towards the wash area.

I simply continued to eat. Bite after bite, I put the food in my mouth and then chewed. I didn't look around. The last thing I needed was for anyone to think I cared about their opinions. No, if I acted as if that entire ordeal was normal, then everyone else would forget about it quickly.

But it hurt. Chewing hurt. Gideon's first hit had been to my cheek, and now my jaw was throbbing. His second was to my temple, and my brain felt like it was pulsing in time. The third was the entire side of my face, and I could only hope it didn't bruise.

At least my stomach wasn't refusing food, though. Oh, my belly hurt, but that was mostly the muscles. Muscles which would only be worse in a few hours, reminding me for days to not misbehave.

Finally, I finished my own meal. Like everyone else, I carried my plate back to the wash area, and then I headed for our room. I didn't rush. I didn't check to see who was looking at me. I merely kept my eyes straight ahead, doing my best to convince myself everything was fine. This was normal. I wasn't bothered by any of it, so no one else should be either.

But the moment I was in my room, the facade fell away. Callah hurried to close the door behind me, then helped me to my bed. Finally, I could moan in pain. Here, alone, I didn't have to fake it, and she knew.

Are sens

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