Red Is for Traitor

Ferguson Michel Heimmermann III was a man who looked down on people. He stood at six foot one inch, had slicked back red-orange hair, a bushy mustache, his tummy was plump to the point where I wondered if he could see his own feet, and a facial expression of constant disgust. His silk and cotton suits were tailored to fit him perfectly while his shoes would blind you with how shined they were. I automatically took a disliking to him much to my brother's disapproval. Arawn always thought the best of people and reminded me to meet Master Heimmermann before judging. He was even worse in person and hoped to never see him again, however with my luck as of late I would be seeing him everyday.
My mother offered a room for him to stay in since we needed the money he offered as rent and we now had the space. His lustful eyes roamed my mother's body and he easily accepted the offer (it was either stay with us or old widow Fanny). The night of his first day, I was moved into Arawn's room and would be sleeping with him until Master Heimmerman's stay was finished. Over dinner that we had made while at our grandmother's, Master Heimmermann boasted about his business. He owned a clothing company that was up and coming; all the rich aristocrats were coming to him for clothes. Right now furs were in from different animals. He arrived in in search of the white and blue forest cat. Arawn and I scowled and filed the knowledge away so as to find a way to keep the majestic cats safe.
As the days wore on my mother seemed to get a little better. She no longer walked in a depressed daze and on occasion she even smiled or gave a small laugh. Arawn was ecstatic that she was finally healing, but I was hesitant to actually rejoice. I wanted mother to be happy once more, however it was a strange happiness. She still barely acknowledged us and when she did it usually was to scold us. On multiple occasions she would sigh or look at me in disappointment and ask when I was going to act like a proper lady. From my peripherals I would see Master Heimmermann shake his head in disgust at me. She only ever talked down to me when he was around. I complained once to Sindri at my mother's behavior. He was quiet a moment before replying, "Sounds like what happened to my aunt Light when she was being courted by uncle Laurel. Except not in a good way."
"W'at do yah mean?" I asked as I fell back onto the grass. It was one of the few times Sindri and I were alone. Arawn was spending the day with some of the kids from the village while the rest of Sindri's pack was doing their own thing.
"You're mom sounds smitten by this Mister Heimmermann." I bolted up in a panic, crowding his personal space. "What?" His eyes nearly went cross eyed with how close I was.
"No!, S'e cahn't be!"
"Why not? Don't you want your mum to be happy?"
"Yahs, but not wit' 'im. 'e's ah terrible mahn." I fell back now with my hands over my eyes. "Do yah know 'ow mahny trahps I 'ave disahbled so 'e wouldn't 'arm t'e forest cahts? Ahnd 'e's still mahnahged to kill some."
"You can't save them all, Macha." He looked at me sadly before rubbing his cheek with mine.
"I cahn't wahit until 'e leaves."
"He will soon enough." I hummed but the acidic feeling never went away.
In the middle of autumn Master Heimmermann did leave, but he left with so much more than he came with. Arawn and I returned late noon one crisp October day to find our clothes and a few personal items packed in a chest. I looked at Arawn in panic as we watched for a moment or two a large carriage being packed in front of our cottage. "Mommah!" We called in unison as we ran into our house. We found her in her room packing the last of her things. "Mommah!?"
She turned with a smile on her face. "Good, ye ta are home. I was hopin' I wouldn't need tah fetch someone tah find ye."
"W'aht is goin' on?" I asked anxiously.
Biting her lip to try and contain her happiness, our mother thrusted her hand at us. "Ferguson has asked me to marry him." We both looked at her in silence, too shocked to speak. "We are goin' tah live with him in the city. Is that naht excitin'?"
"No-" Arawn clapped his hand over my mouth and replied more diplomatically. "Isn't this too soon?"
Our mother waved her hand, "I married- no, go get ready. We will be leavin' soon."
"I will stahy wit' grahndmothah." I blurted out. I did not want to leave, especially with a man who thought so little of me and my brother and only wanted my mother for her body. I was not stupid, I say the way his eyes looked at her.
Mother's once kind eyes looked at me in anger. "Ye will not. Ye are comin' with us and that is final. Go tah the carriage, I will be there in a moment." She dismissed us by turning her head and finishing what she was doing. I went to argue but Arawn pulled me away from the room and towards the door. As we passed the main room, I went to grab my bow and arrows but before I could grab them they were gone.
"You will not be need these." Master Heimmermann swiftly threw them in the dying fire and held me back when I went to rescue them. "No daughter, even if you will be only a step-daughter, will be running around with those. You will not need them in the city."
"Yah 'ad no rig't in doin' t'aht!" I yelled at him.
"Do not raise your voice at me young lady." He snapped as he slapped me across the face. Not expecting his to strike me, I fell to the ground before holding my cheek. Never had I been hit before. "You will remember to respect me. Now get to the carriage before we are late." I stared up at him in defiance, not backing down as we glared at each other. He was the first to break as he turned on his heels to retrieve my mother.
"Are you okay?" Arawn asked while he helped me up. He pulled my hand away to look at the red swelling area.
"Just fine." I muttered, pulling up my hood and storming off. I was tempted to continue past our ride when my mother called from behind whether or not I was in my own world again. Begrudgingly, I entered the carriage and remained quiet most of the ride. At times I silently cried for the loss of my home, my father, my mother, for not being able to tell Sindri that we were leaving, and most of all knowing that I was now a shackled girl.

My time in the city was not really a happy one but I found ways to make it less terrible. I gave up caring what other's thought and remained me. Or at least tried to. I ran with the boys, baited my own hook, sutured up my brother or friends whenever they cut themselves too deep, continued to learn the healing arts (mainly from books without my mother or new step-father's knowledge), took care of animals and plants whenever one was ill, and remained as free as I could. However, even with trying my best I was still forced to do many things I hated and found boring. I went to etiquette school, was forced to speak properly with little to no accent from my childhood, I learned how to care for a household, how to wear a corset, and other aspects of high society I hardly knew existed.
Living in the city taught me how cruel life could really be, how oppressed women were, and it took away the innocence I thought would never leave me. My once bright world became muted much like the smogged city. My metaphorical skin became tough and almost impregnable. I was meanly gossiped about (especially by my step-sister Evanjelista) and by the time I was twelve I had very few female friends. All my male friends distanced themselves from me by the time I was fifteen. Overall, I was very alone. My only true friend was Arawn, but even he could not spend every waking minute with me. He settled into city life far better than I ever could. He was liked by many and had more friends than I had digits.
I learned the hard way that gender in the city was very important. I always knew I was female, I mean how could I not? After my eleventh year I was reminded every month. But I never thought much of it. I was surrounded by woman who did everything to be fashionable and attractive to men. I watched as my peers and step-sister blossomed from young girls into young women with slim waists, breasts that were accentuated by the dresses they wore, petite feet, and a swaying of hips that would make any man notice them. I never fell into that trend. I avoided the corset at all cost, wore dresses that barely showed cleavage, and tended to have some sort of plant material knotted in my long wavy hair. Subconsciously I knew that I was no longer a child. I had a strong lithe body the color of lightly caramelized sugar from the hours in the sun, my dark brown hair hung around my waist in a tumbling mess of waves, my breasts were firm and round, and overall I suppose someone would call me beautiful. But I never saw that version of me and I never knew how dangerous uncaring about my appearance could be until one night at a party when I was sixteen.
It was Evanjelista's friend's party and the large house was filled to almost bursting. I wandered the party in the simplest dress I could find. I had lost Arawn hours ago to different people. Some were his friends, others were prospective girlfriends, and some still were business men. I hated parties and slipped away near 8 o'clock to try and find some peace. I first found an unlocked guest, only for it to be occupied with grunts and moans. The woman's breasts were hanging out while her skirt was pushed up to her waist. Her fingers were knotted in the man's hair as her head was dropped back in bliss. The man's pants were around his knees while his hips snapped to and fro and his mouth suckling a nipple. One hand roamed her exposed skin as his other did something underneath her layered skirt. I quickly shut the door with my cheeks turning pink. I was no prude, I had seen and heard sexual intercourse, but that did not mean I wanted to walk in on. I had done that plenty on my mother and step-father. I wished they would keep that aspect of their lives to their bedroom.
Hurrying away from the couple, I found the library to be abandoned. I sighed in relief and I walked the aisles with my finger trailing along the spines of the books. It was peaceful here with no one around and the music barely above a hum. I could hear the nightlife that was usually drowned out by the bustling city. I closed my eyes and was so lost in the serenity of the room that I did not hear another person enter. Before I knew it I was pressed up against the wall with a hand over my mouth, the other pinning my arms above my head, and the man's legs forcing mine apart. I struggled but even though I was strong for a young woman I was very little match of a man.
"Shhh." The man whispered in my ear as his lips pressed into my skin. "I will take care of ]all your needs." I growled into his and continued to struggled. "Yes, just like that." His hips started moving causing me to feel his hardening penis rub against my thigh. He soon removed his hand from my lips only to replace it with his mouth; I could taste the alcohol on him. His hand started at my breasts kneading them and then moved down my body until he came across my other thigh. He grabbed it and pulled me forward, moaning as the friction caused his member to keep growing. His hips got fast as his pleasure built and he started thrusting his tongue into my mouth in time with his pelvis.
Not one to be a damsel, I became furious. Like a patiently panther, I waited for the right moment to strike. The fourth time his tongue bolted into my mouth, I bit down tearing off a small portion. He cried out and back away, cursing. "You fucking whore!" He swore and lunged at me; mouth still bleeding. I lashed out my hand and clawed his cheek. As he wailed about his face and how much of a bitch I was, I ran from the room towards the servant's passage. I slipped through the tiny hallways and went straight to the cloak room. Once I ripped my cloak from its hanger I bolted out the door. I ran all the way home, spitting blood and his alcohol. I did not stop as threw open the front door, ran up the stairs, and finally entered my room. I slammed the door, immediately bursting into tears. I felt disgusting. That man's scent, spittle, and blood was all over me and I needed to get it off. I literally ripped off the dress and once the fireplace had a suitable flame, I threw it in to watch it burn. Never in my life had I hated being a female as much as that day.
I never spoke of the event to anyone, not even Arawn. He questioned me often and subtly tried to get me to tell him but I never did. I knew he and many of the people from the party had an idea as to what happened. I mean I ran from the party like a bat out of hell and he was bleed. However, the most popular rumor had nothing to do with him almost raping me. Of course it favored him and made me look like I over reacted. I did not support or deny anything because it was futile. From that night on I always carried a knife with me and was always on alert whenever I was around people. I tried to think of any way to get out of going to social affairs and to make myself less appealing to men. I even for a short time cut my hair to my ears, but I could never erase the fact that I was a woman and men lusted for me. Funny enough, it only took a kind deed for me to be considered unsuitable for anyone.