A Sensible Purchase Ch. 03

"That's fine."

"Yes, Husband." She clapped her hands once, as if she wanted to applaud herself. "My stepfather often said that I wasn't worth his time, and that I was a burden to him. He was happy to sell me." Her voice calmed down. "I thought I would be someone's slave."

"Slavery is illegal in Breden. You're a citizen here."

"Should I be grateful, then, that I was born a woman?"

"Perhaps. I do want you to understand that in this land, you are precious. Many would be tempted to steal you."

Jansetta's fingers slid over one of her looped braids. As she caressed the bound tresses, she asked, "Why didn't you ask one of the noble families to sell a daughter to you?"

She heard a short laugh. "Oh, the other families aren't selling their daughters. The three princes are old enough to marry, and all of them have been visiting the highest of families to look at their daughters."

"So ... none of them want to lose their chance."

"Precisely. I could have sold my sisters by now, but I want to give them the opportunity to impress royalty."

"I haven't met them yet. What are their names?"

There was a knocking, a very gentle knocking on the wall. "I'm weary of speaking to a wall, knowing that my new bride is on the other side. Would you let me see your face?"

She licked the bottoms of her teeth, cautiously eyeing the walls. It was then that she realized where the locks were. They were in various locations, but they were small enough for her to have ignored them. As she wondered about the walls, another realization came to her, and it had her eyes widening.

Those walls had been unlocked.

Simon Thibou could have opened the walls anytime he wanted.

But he didn't ...

Honestly?

Did she, a stranger to this world, truly hold so much power over a great creature such as a centaur? Jansetta folded her arms over herself, her palms under her shoulders.

"Husband, is it true that a man here will not look into a woman's room without permission?"

"It's not done without scorn," he replied firmly. "If I had a reason, or if I had permission, I'd open the wall, but otherwise, I wouldn't do so."

"Why?"

Two more knocks were on the wall. Jansetta imagined he was either banging his fist, or his head, against the wall in frustration. "Women are so much more delicate than the men here. We must treat women carefully. An abused woman is likely to miscarry, if not, she would at least put bitterness and pain in her children's lives. A centaur is unlikely to treat the women in his family unjustly. If his brothers, friends, or neighbors learned he mistreated any of the women in his family, he'd likely be beaten and have his women stolen away. Women are cherished here, Jansetta."

"That sounds like an opportunity for a vicious woman to ruin a man's life."

"Perhaps so." Another knock on the wall. "Please open the wall, oh please. I'd love to see you again."

A delicious feeling went through her mind, something similar to vanity. This moment with her husband was something she wanted to cling to. Her head turned to look at a mirror, and she asked, "Am I so beautiful?"

"Certainly, Wife! Your hair is a river of nectar!"

Her teeth flashed at her from behind a smile as she preened under the compliments. "My Husband certainly wishes to see his wife."

"I'm stretching my leash. I'd love to see your nose again. It's a delicate thing, straight and smooth. It suits your face."

Her fingertips graced her cheekbones. "Is that so, Husband?"

"Certainly, it's a melon seed, a beautiful little seed with an inviting set of lips. Dulcet lips, so full that I almost thought you were stung by an insect."

Those lips he seemed to fancy relaxed into a pouty expression, but only so she could better analyze her own beauty. "Would your brothers be envious of you?"

"They have yet to see you, but they certainly are envious. They've already pestered me about you."

Jansetta smothered a laugh. Then she asked, "If women are so rare in Breden, then how can men learn how to seduce them?"

A small tap on the wall, then a few thumps on the earth. "I'm not certain if I should answer that question. You might be offended by the answer."

Janetta faced the walls again. She noticed that some of the walls had horizontal divisions, turning a panel into two walls in one. "I'm not a naive child. I had a very blunt stepfather. I know of many ways of men." Or at least, she knew many ways of human men. She winced at her pessimistic thoughts.

"Oh, is that so? Then perhaps you won't mind knowing the truth. It's not as if the women born and raised here are unaware of it." There was a warm scraping noise, as if one of his hooves was digging a bit at the earth. "Sometimes, a lower class, or middle class family will wish for more money. The mistress will likely have birthed several children for her husband in the past, but she will have reached her natural state of infertility. So, she will ask her husband to entice men into their home, or anywhere else that the wife would feel safe in, so that she may give ... lessons."

"Lessons?" Jansetta was grinning. Her body trembled from caged laughter.

"I understand it's an excellent way to earn money. It's a service many unmarried men desperately crave, and the husbands monitor their wives' health to be certain that no diseases are spread."

"And the upper classes do not give ... lessons?"

"They don't need to. They don't need the money. Although, I have heard of some noblewomen happily giving out their lessons in exchange for their husbands' influence at the royal court, or even for their own influence without their husbands."

What a culture!

No longer could the laughter be confined. It fell from Jansetta's lips as easily as the lovely waterfall so elegantly portrayed on the walls.

"Similar arrangements have been made in my homeland, but I don't believe they are anywhere near as valuable as in this place!"

"There are more women there, and so, they don't have as much worth there."

"I suppose." Jansetta stood up then, thinking that maybe it wouldn't be bad to let him see just a bit of her. He had already seen her before. It wasn't as if her general appearance was a great secret. Besides, he could have opened the walls, climbed in, or reached in, and grabbed her, but he didn't. This man had restraint.

She shuffled her feet against the mats, loving the luxurious feeling of having padding everywhere she stepped, even if it wasn't anywhere near as thick as a pillow or a mattress. When she was close to a panel of two walls, her fingertips lightly touched the painted sky on the upper wall. It was a beautiful summer sky. She imagined it would be something of a hollow comfort during the winter.

"Your mother was very kind. She gave me some of her jewelry."

His voice seemed louder. "There should have been many beautiful clothes for you too. Do they fit you well?" Was he across from her? Were they close to each other with only the wood between them?

"She seemed to believe the clothing fit me well."

"Would you let me see? Please?"

It wouldn't do to be obstinate with the man everyone in society recognized as her husband, now would it?

She found a groove to dig her fingers into. Then she slowly slid the upper wall aside until she was looking at the red tunic and beautiful necklace of Simon Thibou. The raised state of the floor she stood on allowed her to almost feel as though she was beside a human man of normal height.

The fabric rose and fell with his breathing. His hand slid into her view. It was a great hand with long fingers and short nails. There was a slight line of something dark under his lunulae, where they met his nail beds. Still, a mild aroma of soap and perfume was about him, as if he had earnestly tried to clean his fingernails, but some stains were far too stubborn.

There was a ring there too. A large ring of gold that had the geometric family crest engraved on it. Jansetta wondered if she was ever to have a similar piece of jewelry.

Goodness! She'd been in the place for less than twenty four hours, and she was already thinking of possible gifts!

She frowned as she silently berated herself for her entitled thoughts.

"You're upset," the man said. "I'm sorry. What can I do?" That hand of his went up to her chin, jaw, and cheeks, which surprised her and had her flinching, but she didn't step back. The rough warmth of the hand encased her face.

Her head was tilted backwards, and she was soon looking up at very preoccupied set of eyes, dark green eyes ... only the most vibrant leaves could hope to compare to them. She was so entranced by them that she forgot to notice his thick nose with very wide nostrils ... until she happened to look down a little. Now that she had a moment to consider centaurs, she wondered if their noses were similar to horses' noses. They were nowhere near as large, but they were comparable in some ways.

He snorted at her, but not in a derisive manner.

There wasn't anything upsetting going on ... except ... Jansetta suddenly thought of the goddess she was expected to sacrifice to, but she said, "I ... I'm not upset."

"You're not?" He sounded so deep and warm!

Jansetta felt a quiet little tremor, but she kept her voice firm. "I'm fine. I have no complaints." Well, she had several complaints. She was in a foreign land with foreign gods and no choice in her future, not that she had ever expected much choice. If her stepfather hadn't sold her, he would have arranged a marriage for her with someone. She might not have seen her husband's face until the wedding, might not have even spoken to him until the wedding night.

"If you have a complaint, you need to give it to me. A suffering wife leads to a suffering family." His hand slid away, but it went to her shoulder. Her clothing protected her a bit from the warmth, but she still felt some of it.

For a reason Jansetta couldn't place, her eyes pointed down to his mouth. His lower lip was slightly thicker than the upper one. "I cannot think of anything to complain about."

"Yes you can, especially with that face you made." His fingers tightened over her shoulder. It didn't hurt.

Could she safely push the boundaries here? Jansetta took a breath and forced a smile. "I want to tell you of my worry, Husband, but I've only just arrived, and I don't want to insult your family."

A little shake, that was all, a tiny little shake, that was what Simon gave her shoulder. He was smiling as he did it, and he didn't shake her hard enough that her body jolted. It was just enough of a movement for her to notice it. "Don't let the sadness fester. Tell me what concerns you."

Her lips parted as she almost said it. Her body and head turned to look at the goddess statue.

She heard his voice as her eyes traced the statue's facial features. "Chussan? That's our childbirth goddess. She has other attributes you can look to. She's considered to be a goddess of erotic love and feminine dancing."

Feminine dancing? Jansetta frowned again, but then her face softened as she remembered that centaurs, if they did dance, most obviously danced differently than human women.

She almost voiced her worry again as she turned back to look up at him, leaning in, her fingers curling over the edge of the lower wall. He smelled rather ... pleasant, like fresh earth, green leaves, sweet flowers, and something mildly dusty with a hint of straw.

But she couldn't bring herself to be so intolerant.

Simon's thick, black eyebrows rose as he looked down at her. His hand receded, and he weaved his fingers together, lowering them behind the wall. "Your people have different gods, I imagine?"

A heavy, free sort of exhale came out of her. "We do."

"Would you be uncomfortable sacrificing to Chussan? I'd understand if you are."

Her whole body seemed to liven up. Her hands flew to her bosom. Her eyes seemed to grow. A light smile bloomed. "Could my husband be so understanding?!" She even gave a tiny hop, making her own little thud for a change.

He nodded, and his eyebrows slid down as his face relaxed. "You aren't required to sacrifice to Chussan, but we won't make any shrines to your gods. I hope you understand."

"That's completely reasonable." Her smile grew. "I'm so pleased to know I won't be forced into a religion."

"I'm pleased to know you're pleased." Simon's fingers rose, and then they drummed and beat on the lower wall. "We need to go to Anath tomorrow. I hope you'll forgive me for demanding that you come. I'd never force you to do anything, but my mother has made a strong argument, and I agree with her. You must come."

Jansetta wilted a bit, but not out of sadness. She wilted out of gentle confusion. "Why must I go?"

"We need to have a pair of clogs made for your feet. If your shoes don't fit you, your feet might touch the dirt. An upper class woman's feet never touch the dirt. It would be an embarrassment for the men in her family."

She wanted to groan at him. Certainly, she might want to feel plush soil on her toes at least once in her life!

Jansetta decided to ask, "Will we see to any other errands tomorrow?"

Simon's humanoid back straightened with what was likely pride. "Shopping, of course. The women in my family must have their luxuries. My brothers have their needs too, and my servants could always use more supplies." He reached out to her then, stroking one of her braids with his fingertips. "When The Soothing is finished, you'll be taken to the city again, to a temple to have our names recorded as a married couple. I'd like to show you the temple."

She felt the blood leave her cheeks. Her voice was quiet. "The Soothing?"

One of his fingers curled around the braid. His eyes followed his movements. "It's the time before the couple's names are recorded. For native women, The Soothing is a short period, because they know what to expect, and men often try to court them before negotiating prices with their fathers." He put his fingers to her shoulder again, but he didn't make a tight grip. "For foreign women, The Soothing is longer. This is because they are often frightened and need to be comforted."

"I suppose that's sensible." She calmed down, feeling warmth return to her face. She had worried that The Soothing would be a horrible sort of ritual, but it seemed to be the term for the period before a wife is legally recognized. She did wonder, though, why they had to wait to go to the temple. Perhaps it was a gesture of mercy to the foreigners who needed time to adjust? Perhaps it was meant to give the husbands time to see if they were happy with their wives, so they could sell them to someone else if they weren't?

"The lunch hour is nigh, but not quite here." She heard his hooves as he stepped back from the walls a little. "Would you like to play some music while we wait? We happen to have a recorder." His neck stretched as he peered around her. "Ah, I see Mother has found it for you. If you wish, you may close the walls. An upper class woman is only seen when she wishes to be."

"No ... I don't see any harm in your gaze." Even if it did have her blushing a little.

Jansetta spun around, hearing her sleeves whoosh and flap in the air. She knelt onto the cushion near the table, turned again to face her new husband, and she snatched up the recorder. After a quick examination of the instrument, she decided it was adequate.

She chose a soft, lazy tune that was quite popular in her homeland. It was known for evaporating the rage out of many hearts. Small children tended to enjoy the piece when they wanted a nap.

Simon remained in his place, looking at her with a peaceful smile and lowered eyelids. At one point, he pulled his braid of black hair behind himself. Other than that, he didn't move very much. When the song was over, Jansetta bowed to him, still kneeling. Simon clapped his hands very politely.

"I'm pleased to have an accomplished bride."

She smiled and started another song. It was a more playful tune that was popular with casual dancers. Simon seemed to lean from side to side. There was a mild shifting noise, as if he was moving his legs. Jansetta couldn't see if he was. When the rhythm was appropriate enough, he clapped his hands very loudly. His smile was large ... with large teeth ... Jansetta's eyes narrowed as she tried not to cringe. It wasn't his fault that he wasn't a human man. Again, she berated herself.

When that happy tune was done, she received a much louder form of applause with cheers and laughter. "You're a lovely creature, Wife! Truly lovely!"

There was a knocking on the men's side of the area. Both Simon and Jansetta turned their eyes and heads to the sound. A masculine voice called out, probably from behind a wall, "Lunch is ready."

"Thank you," Simon said with a nod. "We'll be there soon." He turned back to Jansetta. "Mother should come to you soon, to show you where the dining rooms are. You could choose to eat in your bedroom, though," and he shrugged as he said this, "if that's what you prefer."

Jansetta laid her recorder aside and stood up. "I should see the rest of the family, so I'll eat in the dining rooms."

"Good. I'll see you soon, if you allow it." He walked towards her right, out of her view, and Jansetta heard him push a wall away. Then his hooves' beats against the dirt faded away.

Feeling curious, Jansetta padded over to the opening she had made before and let her head stick out. Across from the women's wide, there were a set of sturdier looking wooden walls. One of the walls was slightly pushed aside, revealing a metal track underneath that a centaur's leg could easily move over. Between this set of walls and the women's rooms, there was something of a hallway, lined with soil, as she had expected it to be. She looked right and saw Simon's back end as he walked down the hallway, sometimes pausing to open a wall. His black tail was evenly swinging back and forth. The red festoon of silk was still there, decorating his body.

With a shrug, Jansetta retreated back into her little world of women, closed the beautifully painted upper wall, and went back to her low seat, waiting for her mother-in-law to come to her. She decided to move her legs out from under her backside, arranging them at an angle, her bottom sinking into the cushion. This position was much easier on her legs.

A few moments went on, and then Etiennette emerged behind Jansetta, saying with a very cheerful tone, "The lunch hour is nigh, Dearheart. Would you prefer to eat in your room or with the family?"

As she turned about and rose, Jansetta said, "I believe I should eat with the family."

Her green eyes lighting up, Etiennette said, "Goodness, you're a friendly sort. That's wonderful." She waved her hand up towards Jansetta. "Come, then."

***

The dining rooms, as separated as they were, were the most social spaces Jansetta had seen since being sold to this family. First, Jansetta was introduced to two young women with long chestnut hair in braided pigtails. Frowning, both women stiffly bowed to Jansetta, who tried not to take offense to their attitudes. Onorine and Laurine were their names, but Jansetta quickly forgot which woman had which name. According to Etiennette, they were twins, and she was very proud of having birthed them.

"These girls are signs of our family's good fortune," Etiennette said as she untied the knots in her long sleeves, smiling all the while. "Do any of you wish to be hidden?" She looked up for a moment. None of the women answered her. She blinked a few times, and then she looked back to her sleeves. "That's good."

When Etiennette was content with her clothing, she knelt on a cushion beside a low table that was very close to the walls that hid the women. Jansetta and her sisters-in-law took their own seats at the table. The twins were beside each other. Across from them were Jansetta and Etiennette. Jansetta noticed the she was positioned close to a wall, so that when the women were revealed, Jansetta would be one of the most visible.