āYouāreā¦different. Iāve never met a girl like you.ā
She stares at him, hands stilling over her sword.Ā āWhat?ā
āAll the girls in my village are so boring,ā he says.Ā āSo focused on finding husbands that they donāt bother learning about the world.ā
āGirls in your village arenāt allowed to own property or vote,ā she says, somewhat incredulous.
He winces at her tone. Need she be so harsh? āWellā¦itās not like theyāve ever needed to, weāre a very progressive village and I always vote in favor of their needs. Youāre not like that though, you fight for your rights yourself.ā
āThey are fighting for their rights,ā she says. She sets down her sharpening stone, a frown stretching across her face.Ā āNo voting, no property, no wages of their own to purchase necessities. Besides finding a kind husband, what else do you think they can do to find a good future?ā
āTh-they could leave,ā he says. He did not expect the conversation to go this way. He expected her to blush like she had when he complimented her sword skills. He finds himself oddly defensive.Ā āThe men in my village arenāt slavers. The girls can leave any time.ā
She snorts.Ā āOn foot? Your village is a hard, three day ride from the nearest city and thatās by horseback. And, even if they made it, what skills do they have? What references? The risk is too high for any woman to leave, thatās as good as trapping them.Ā The fact that it takes me holding a sword for your opinion of women to change just shows how small-minded you are.ā
Ā He bristles, unable to refute her.Ā āLook, I was just trying to pay you a compliment! Thereās no need to attack me.ā
āTrust me,ā she says, standing when he moves to loom over her. Theyāre of near equal height and, if he was trying to intimidate her, he fails.Ā āYouāll know it when Iām attacking you. This isnāt it.ā
He doesnāt seem to hear her, flustered to be seeing her eye-to-eye. āFurthermore, I think Iād know what sort of girls I grew up with! Theyāre timid and lack a desire to explore the world.ā
āThe world you created for them doesnāt take long to explore,ā she says. Her sword is bare in her hand.Ā āMarry or descend into poverty. Bear an heir or be cast into poverty. Behave or be thrown into poverty. I was there for a week and figured it out. But,ā she continues, looking him up and down,Ā āmaybe I shouldnāt be so quick to judge. After all, youāve lived there your whole life and you still havenāt figured it out.ā
He splutters.Ā āThatās notāthere are other optionsāā
āWhen the revolution is done,ā she says, coldly,Ā āand your people are forced to give women rights, see how many stay and how many leave. See how many suddenly discoverĀ their wander-lust. See how many end up like me.ā
She leaves him there and stalks off to the edge of camp. She leaves him there with his mouth opening and closing, and heart pounding in his chest.
She leaves him there with the unsettling realization that he doesnāt want the women in his village to end up being like her, so different and strong. Because, if they did, where would he be? Where would his home be?
Itās an upsetting realization to have, mid-revolution. No chance to back out now.
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