Mary stared up at the ceiling of the bedroom she shared with her lover. She had come to Philadelphia when she was just 13. She played with her ginger curls as she flashed back to her first day with him.
She had come from just outside of Philly. Her parents had died and she had convinced the Militia to let her cross the bridge they guarded. After all, what could a little girl like her do? She told them she just wanted to see the capital of Monroe Republic. So she crossed the bridge. Before she left her home she had bathed and made sure to get every inch of her clean. She put on a navy sun dress that stopped above her knees along with a pair of old white sandals her mother had saved for a very special occasion. She had left her bouncing ringlets down around her shoulders and didn't bother with weapons or anything, not like she even knew how to use them.
Little her had crossed the bridge at the wrong time though. She remembered tasting metal in her mouth the second she smelled the sulfur. Gunshots, she remembered thinking. Then, as if in a trance she watched a Militia man kill another and he stood by watching. She looked up at him and their eyes met. She saw his lips move but only heard the sound of bone connecting with bone as another one of his men beat a person in the street.
13-year-old Mary watched with horror as a regular citizen was beaten in front of her. She felt strong arms wrap around her and she was pulled up onto a horse which galloped off towards his house.
That was the first time she had seen him. The instant he wrapped his arms around her, she had fallen in love.
Real Mary shook her head. She had been so innocent, so childish then. She remembered the days after her arrival.
She followed him everywhere like a lost puppy. She swooned and sighed over every little thing he did. Every time she spoke about him it was always, "Oh Bass!" or "Bass" sighed and drawn out like she was talking about Heaven.
And she was. She worshiped him. She thought he hung the moon. Whenever they walked places together, even if it was just down the hall, he held her hand and kept it firmly in his grasp until they reached their destination. It wasn't out of care.
It wasn't because he loved her or anything. When she thought back on it, he probably did it to keep her from wandering off or something silly like that.
Despite the reason, whenever he took her hand and held it tightly in his she knew she was going to get the treat of accompanying him somewhere.
The young her walked with her head proudly tilted up slightly as she gazed at him, watching his every move.
None of his men understood it and many of them laughed at her but as time went by he began to get more protective of his only true companion. When they laughed at her and teased her, he had other men beat them for it. He didn't tolerate any fun had at her expense.
Mary looked over at the knife on her bedside table.
Her 16th birthday had been the turning point. After three years of following him around like a peasant would a king, doting and fawning on him, he had grown protective and while he was still rough with her, his eyes softened when he looked at her and she knew he cared too.
He threw her a party with cakes and other sweets. She got to wear a fancy dress and all the officers were there with dates of their own or girls that Bass kept if they didn't have dates. General Matherson was there. He had come back after handing over Charlie and his other friends. Neville wasn't there. She had convinced Bass to get rid of him. But everyone else was there.
Then, at precisely 10:22, he took her hand firmly just like he always did and walked out of the great ballroom. He walked her to a place she had only seen the outside of. He opened the doors and walked her inside before dropping her hand. He closed the doors to his bedroom and turned back to her smiling.
"This is my present to you," he said as he took her hand and lead her to his bed where he began to undress her.
That night she had lost her virginity. He had told her about the ways of men and how men like him really only wanted one thing.
She loved his present and had loved it ever since. After that night they fell into a routine. She would arrive at his bedroom door at exactly 5:30. They would have dinner privately, together, and then she would sit at his feet like she had since her first day with him while he did some work or answered letters. Then, at 7:50, he would stand and hold out his hand to help her up. He would take her to his bed and they would spend the rest of the night there, but she was always expected to be back in her room by morning.
They had been doing the same thing for a couple years. Mary was twenty now and had lived with him for a total of seven years. After her sixteenth birthday, she never got a party. She just got a few 'Happy Birthday's from people and a present from him.
She moved her gaze back to the ceiling as he kissed down her neck, continuing his pace. She knew nothing had changed for her and knew nothing ever would.
She would only ever be his lover. She would never be anything more to him than a companion that he trusted fully. He knew he had her full loyalty and he needed nothing else. He still slept with other women and it hurt her, but she knew she could never change that so she bit her tongue and showed up at exactly 5:30 every night because she loved him and because she knew if she ever tried living without him she would dieā¦all because she fell in love with a man who's heart was guarded by an iron gate that she would never have the key to.
