Julia

Rasna, Europa.

The farm girl was chosen that summer, despite her furious protests. Barely seventeen when her parents promised her to a balding old knight – A decision she’d make them regret, all too soon.

Julia frowned angrily. Pressing her hands over her ears, she tried to block out the drunken laughter of wedding guests eating beside her brown leather tent in the woods. She stiffened.

“Mama, you’re tying my dress too tight!”

“Stop fidgeting then!” said her mother, a cheerful country woman, taking two steps back. “There! Done! You look beautiful!”

The slender white wedding dress, embroidered with red roses, fit Julia well, but looked dull compared to her jewelry – a large shiny gold necklace and matching bracelets – gifts from the rich, powerful knight who’d demanded to be her husband.

A woodland breeze ruffled the tent’s thin walls. Mouthwatering aromas of sizzling grilled steaks and delicious pancakes began seeping in. Julia’s worried frown deepened. You’re lucky, Mama had said. He has a mansion nearby, with servants to help you cook for him.  But Julia felt as lucky as a fresh fish on a dinner plate.

“I don’t think I can do this, Mama. Who marries an old man?”

“…A wise woman,” Mama nodded sternly. “Local men aren’t perfect – Your father stunk of goat-cheese when we first met…”

“…but he still does.”

“My point, exactly.”

Julia smiled despite herself. Mama smiled back.

“Lord Turnus is very rich; the woods are beautiful and everyone’s happy. Darling, you won’t do anything to spoil your own wedding party will you? Please don’t – your father and your brothers will be very angry.”

Mama’s soft voice quivered with worry; her eyebrows raised. 

 “You’re not planning mischief, are you?”

Julia rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Good,” sighed her mother, quite relieved. “I’m done. Now go out there, sit by Lord Turnus and look pretty. Cheer up! – Don’t be a cranky goose!”

With that, she shoved Julia quickly out of the tent.

The grassy meadow was surrounded by towering mountain pines whose large green leaves swayed gently in the cool afternoon wind. A crowd of sixty or so wedding guests cheered as Julia moved between their tables then sat in her bridal chair. She feigned a smile. 

Her father – a successful local farmer – sat proud as a peacock, across a wooden table, laughing with his future in-laws, till he saw her grab a heavy wine flask. Suddenly, two large soldiers lifted her up in the air, and carried her off to a distant tent, kicking wildly, much to the hearty laughter and cheers of the crowd.