Page 34 of Under His Rule

He folds his arms. “The ceremony and its rituals will happen. That’s a fact.”

I make a face. “Or what?”

“The community does not change its course.” His face is stark and unmoving. “The people will bend to the rules, not the other way around.”

So I’m forced to marry a man I’ve never met who randomly picks me to fuck in front of everyone. Got it.

“This is insane,” I say.

“No, it’s inevitable,” he replies.

I shake my head and barge past him. I open the door and march out without saying another word.

But his voice still rings in my head long after I’ve gone, even when he’s out of view … but never out of my mind. “It’s your choice, Natalie. Submit … or be conquered.”

Chapter 13

Natalie

A few weeks later

Today, we’re planting apple trees. Apparently, the community does this every so often to increase the fruit supply for the ever-growing population. Of course, they let us do the hard work. That’s why the workers are called helpers, the lowest class of all. Both married and unmarried women and men plant the trees while the elders tell us where and how to do it.

All I can think of is how close the fence is and whether it would be easy to escape. Every time I turn my head, another guard walks past us, and I wonder if that’s the norm for all the people here or just us initiates … or more specifically, the captured.

If they’re watching, it’s impossible to get over the fence. But what about underneath? Would I be able to dig a hole deep enough to get out?

I look at all the huts surrounding the fence, none of which belong to us. Maybe one of them is empty. I could sneak in every day and rip out the floorboards, then dig my way out.

I know it’s a ridiculous thought, but the idea is riveting to me.

Instead of digging holes for fruit trees, I’d be digging my way out of here like some sort of poetic justice. All I’d need is for them not to notice. But how? How do you go about not getting noticed in a community full of people ready to tattle on each other?

“What are you looking at?” Emmy suddenly asks me, catching me off guard while I was checking out the perimeter.

“Ahh … nothing,” I mutter, scooping up some dirt.

“Were you planning your escape again?” She sniggers, but I throw her a dead-serious glance.

“Why are you still thinking about that?” she asks.

Gee, I wonder why.

“Because I didn’t choose to be here,” I answer. “And because out there it’s far more beautiful than this place could ever be.”

“Why is that?”

God, she asks a lot of questions.

“In the outside world, people don’t live in huts but houses. We have showers with running water that we’re allowed to use any time of the day. And we don’t eat food together,” I say.

“So you eat alone?” she asks. “That doesn’t sound like fun.”

“No, I mean … people can choose how they eat or with who,” I say. “And that goes for pretty much anything. Like jobs. And who you marry.”

“We choose who we marry too,” she replies.

I frown. “The men choose who they marry … not the women.”

She shrugs. “I don’t see the difference.”

“That’s because you’ve never experienced true freedom,” I reply.

I can’t help but be a little snarky. It’s hard to resist when these girls are fully committed to this strangely sexist ideal that goes against everything I’ve ever known.

“In the real world, men and women are equal.”

“But I don’t want to be equal,” she says, closing her eyes. “I want to serve and love and be loved by a man who is powerful and handsome.” She giggles. “And who’s good in bed.”

I roll my eyes. “You think you want that, but what if he’s not at all what you want? What then?”

She looks at me with a sincere smile on her face. “Then I accept what God has given me.”

I shake my head. “It can’t be that simple.”

“No … it’s not.” I get up and grab a new bag of seed along with some water so we can water the plants. “You don’t know what it’s like out there. You could have so much more.”

“You really don’t like it here, do you?” she says.

“No,” I reply. “I want to go back home.”

“Well, there’s no ‘back.’ You’re here, and this is your home now,” she says, adding a smile. “And you can choose to smile.”

“Smile … for what?” I mutter, toiling away at the soil.

“Because of the beauty of this world. For serving God.”

I snort and shake my head. Such a typical thing for a girl who grew up here to say.

“There’s a lot you can be happy about here if only you’d give it a shot.”

I sigh and get up. “Yeah, well, I’m not interested in that.” I clean my hands with a towel, and say, “I’m going to take a break.”

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