Page 18 of Vows of Sacrifice
“I’ve stopped counting. So, it’s up to you. And you?”
“What about me?”
“Your age.”
“Eighteen years old.”
Once again, he choked on his food.
“You’re just a baby!”
He grabbed his cup to fill it with red wine and drained it in one gulp. I watched him pour himself another.
“I’m not a baby. Or a child.”
His eyes lowered briefly to my chest.
“Yes, indeed,” he then muttered.
He tried to hide his amused grin by raising the cup to his lips while I furiously readjusted my shawl.
“I was talking about responsibilities,” I explained.
“Yes, yes.”
“I am serious!”
“I know. Massim mentioned it. You helped your father administer the kingdom.”
I opened my mouth to contend, but his last comment cut me off dead in my tracks. I pursed my lips, just long enough to think about what I was going to ask him, and more importantly, how.
“Are you against this?”
Dovah raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Against what?”
“For a woman to take on the responsibilities of a man.”
“You mean do a man’s job?”
I nodded, then waited nervously for his reply. He studied me for a moment before speaking again.
“To be honest, before you, I’d never asked myself that question.”
“Well? You do have an opinion on the subject!” I pressed, impatiently.
“I would say this: if that’s what she wants and she proves herself competent, why not? For me, it’s only the results that matter. How you get there is just that, a means to an end.”
At least one thing seemed to be looking up with this situation. I was better at managing land than knitting shawls.
“You look happy. Did I say something right?”
I nodded again, unable to supress the smile that stretched across my face. I wasn’t a conventional wife, and the idea that he wasn’t against my deepest aspirations gave me some hope for the future.
“Is it the idea of working that puts you in such a state of joy?”
I burst out laughing, a laugh that I immediately stifled by pressing my napkin against my mouth. I didn’t know how he managed to be funny and make me smile when I wanted to hate him with all my soul.
