Knock, knock, knock.
Cyrah squeezed a groan inside her throat and closed her eyes, hoping to make the visitor vanish. She needed only one guess as to who stood on the other side of her front door.
Leo shouted, “Cyrah? Are you home?”
The book in her hands closed with care, and then remained motionless. She debated pretending to be asleep.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
She set the book gently on the end table by the chair as she stood. With four long strides Cyrah rushed to reach the door before he knocked it down. She yanked the bolt sideways and swung the door partially open toward her.
Leo sighed in relief. “Thank goodness.”
“You will never convince me that you were seriously concerned for my well being,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow.
“I absolutely was. I came by midday to apologize and you were not home.” Sincerely, he asked, “Am I not to worry for the health of my future wife?”
Ignoring the rest of his statement, her expression relaxed and she questioned, “Apologize?”
“Yes. I was abrupt with you earlier, not prepared to ask for your hand in marriage properly,” he explained earnestly, and pushed her arm aside to enter the small cottage.
Following him to the fireplace, Cyrah protested. “Have you no manners? You were not invited into my home where I live alone.”
Leo reached inside the light jacket he wore over his pine green tunic and from a pocket retrieved a flat, square box, which he held out in earnest. “Cyrah, there is no other woman in this village who has such rare beauty, no one who compliments my masculinity the way you do. It would make me happy to have you accept my offer of marriage, and these gifts.”
She spied the box suspiciously with her hands folded together and watched intently as he impatiently removed the lid to reveal exquisite jewelry. A necklace of sapphire gems that matched her eyes attached to a gold, slender chain, along with a perfectly shaped diamond set inside a golden ring. Her breath ran shallow with fear. “Leon, this is- I am not- Wait.” Shock dissipating, she turned suspicious. “I thought you came to apologize.”
“At the time, of course, for rushing into a marriage proposal without being prepared. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I overwhelmed you earlier,” he said, convinced beyond a doubt this was the only explanation to her dejection earlier that day. “I knew you wanted to say yes, but I had no gift to offer you. That was thoughtless. Thus, I am here to ask again. What do you say, my bride, will you marry me?”
Cyrah closed her eyes as she inhaled, and her heart plummeted as if an anchor weighed it down to her stomach. Exhaling, she looked at Leon and with conviction said, “This is exactly why I do not belong here. I am not the woman you want to marry.”
Determined, he pushed the jewelry box closer to her. “Your beauty is beyond measure, even when you’re upset, and you will be more so in wearing this ring and necklace. There is no convincing me that we should not be married. The other girls in town pale in comparison to you.”
She stepped back on the toe of her shoe and jerked her head away from him. Her eyes lifted and settled on a square mirror hanging on the angled wall of stairs leading to the second floor. What she saw was not freckled flesh, dark hair, and bright blue eyes, but the intricacies within, the depth of her wild spirit, the desire to do more with her life than marry and bear children. “That is kind of you to say, but you need to–”
“It is truth,” Leo declared.
“Listen to me,” she snapped and ensnared his gaze with hers. He was insulted that she would dare cut him off, but she was offended by the interruption. “That is exactly what I mean. You desire a woman who will agree with your every thought. One who will smile and laugh at even your most pathetic joke. You want a woman whose only purpose is to raise your children and upkeep your ego. You fail to realize that is not the woman I am.”
“You just have not learned your place yet, Cyrah. Every woman wants to be a man’s prized possession.”
She scoffed. “Not I! I can fight, I can hunt, I can make repairs, read, write, and do math. I have a brain with my own ideas. Before you go proposing, it might have been nice of you to ask what was on my mind.”
“We can make this work,” he insisted, watching her walk away.
She groaned, and moved around furniture toward the front door of her cottage. “The answer is no, for my sanity and your own. I will not marry you. Please, leave.” She pulled the door open wider.
Leo marched toward the door and slammed it shut behind her. Startled, Cyrah jumped and filled with dread when the gift box clattered on the floor. He gripped her shoulders and forced his lips to hers before she found her senses. As their lips touched, she thrust her fist forward into his cheek with a smack. He stumbled back, surprised by her strength.
“Get out of my house, Leon,” she yelled hysterically, yanking the door open again. “I am not afraid to defend myself!”
“You have no idea what you want. You will regret this! No one can say no to me,” Leo bellowed. “When you are living alone and scared, with no one to protect you or provide for you, you will wish you accepted my offer.”
Despite his tough words, he made no motion to leave. He held out the palm of his hand to Cyrah on a strand of hope she might change her mind. She leaned sideways, far enough to grab the hilt of a short dagger disguised against her boot. She brandished the narrow blade and pointed its tip close to his throat. “I would rather end up alone than be with a man as dull and ignorant as you. Leave,” she growled, glaring darkly.
This defiant act of hostility sent Leo hastily retreating to increase distance between him and the dagger. For every step he took backward, Cyrah stepped forward to close the distance until she was close enough to draw open the door. He never took his eyes off the knife, so when he searched for the first step down from her stoop, he tumbled and landed sprawled on the ground.
Cyrah laughed cruelly. “How do you expect to protect me, if you cannot defend yourself from a woman?” The words hung in the air before she closed the door, shoved the lock in place, and stabbed the knife back in her boot. Staggering toward the chair, the book guided her like a beacon. She prepared to drown in all consuming anger and to find her thoughts in a state of mayhem. Instead, she felt a rush of relief. The tension in her chest vanished. Her heart soared with hope that this confrontation meant Leo would finally take the hint and cease his advances. A laugh escaped her for the moment she had feared him. At last, breathing more easily, she curled up with her new book and read until her eyes were too heavy to hold open.
Kilena Shrelack 