Call it boredom. Call it fate. Call me aldulterous. But just don't judge me.
You have no idea how taxing it is, pretending to love a man your father chose for you to marry. A man who is not kind, not intelligent, not funny, not handsome, not charming. A man who to me, has no attractive qualities. Of the thousands of suitors that hoped to inherit my mortal father's throne by marrying me, many so much more handsome and charming than my husband, I was not allowed any say in the matter. This life that I would not have chosen, this forced pretense -- it eats away at me every day.
Of course I feel badly about leaving him. And I feel worse about abandoning our daughter. But for the first time, I felt something -- anything. For the first time I experienced an emotion that I never imagined I could feel in this life. It was as though the gods intervened when we met and gave me a taste of the life I could have had. And now that my senses have come alive, he is all I want. I want to feel, to taste, to touch, to experience love, to be happy.
But I fear that my husband will not allow us much time together. Surely when he returns to find me gone, he will come after us with all the force afforded to a man in his position. The very power that, by my father's decree, made me his wife.
This post is part of Kevin Apgar's Grassroots Blogger Book Marketing Campaign (GRBBMC) for the upcoming release of the very talented Paul Davidson's new book, The Lost Blogs. If you want to read the possible blogs of hundreds of other historical figures (though much better-written, I'm sure), click here to pre-order your copy of Paul's book. At the end of this five-day contest/exercise, the characters of all participating bloggers will be revealed. If you wish, you can leave your guesses in the comments.