Chains of Faith - Chapter 1: The Last Day

[IsabellaRose]

While Lena and Silvia’s bond grew stronger within the cloister, Lena’s thoughts often drifted to her family, especially her younger sister, who was now a year closer to her own fate—entering the cloisters. The idea of her sister enduring the same suffocating environment weighed heavily on Lena’s heart.

Lena was allowed to write to her family, though the letters were carefully scrutinized by the Divine State censors before being sent out. Every word had to be chosen carefully, every sentence crafted to ensure it sounded appropriately obedient, cheerful even, so as not to raise suspicion.

In her letters to her younger sister, Lena wrote of her time in the cloister, framing her experiences in the language of duty and service, using the words the censors would expect to see: “I am learning much about obedience,” or “The Mothers have been kind in guiding me to my role.” Her sister, still too young to understand the full weight of those words, believed that Lena was happy, that she was thriving in the cloister as the Divine State had always promised.

But hidden within the carefully constructed sentences, beneath the layers of forced optimism, Lena had begun to weave in something else—a message meant not for her sister, but for her mother.

Lena knew her mother was clever, more so than the Divine State gave her credit for. She slipped in subtle phrases, references that only her mother would understand, allusions to stories they had shared long ago, stories that spoke of defiance and quiet rebellion. The messages were disguised as innocent lines—“The garden is well tended, though it sometimes feels overrun with weeds,” or “I am finding strength in the light that is often hidden beneath the surface.”

When Lena’s latest letter arrived, her mother read it as she always did, her expression neutral as she scanned the surface of the words. But then, something clicked. The familiar phrases, the carefully hidden hints, stood out to her in ways they wouldn’t to anyone else. Lena’s words, though cloaked in obedience, spoke of resistance, of a heart that had not been fully broken by the cloister.

Her mother’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what Lena was trying to say. The message was clear, though subtly conveyed: Lena was not happy, and she was not willing to submit. There was rebellion in her heart, a quiet, dangerous rebellion that could cost her everything.

Carefully, her mother folded the letter and placed it back where her younger daughter could find it. She said nothing to her family, keeping her discovery a secret, but the knowledge weighed heavily on her. Lena was in danger, caught between the rules of the Divine State and her own growing defiance.

And with her younger daughter soon to follow in Lena’s footsteps, the stakes had never been higher.

[IsabellaRose]

Chapter 5

Lena had become everything the cloister expected her to be. She wore the mask of the obedient, subservient woman so well that no one questioned her devotion. She had memorized every tenet, perfected every curtsy, and recited her prayers with such grace that she was held up as a model student. Beneath the surface, however, Lena’s mind was constantly racing, calculating, planning her next move.

Now, as she entered her final year in the cloister, the stakes were higher than ever. This was the year when the young women would be paraded before potential suitors—both the younger men closer to their own age, and the elder leaders of the Divine State, men who sought to add another beautiful, obedient wife to their ever-growing harems.

Lena had always known this was coming, but the reality of it hit her harder than she expected. Her first interview with one of the elder leaders was a stark reminder of her position in this world. She had been brought into a grand, ornate chamber, the walls lined with portraits of the Divine State’s greatest leaders—men who had shaped and controlled the society she now lived in. The man before her, an elder leader in his fifties, looked at her with the cold, calculating eyes of someone assessing property rather than a person.

He asked her questions, though none of them were about her as an individual. He asked about her family’s background, her ability to perform household duties, her understanding of the rites, and whether she would be able to bear children. Lena answered each question with the carefully measured, demure responses she had been trained to give. She knew what they wanted to hear, and she gave it to them effortlessly.

But the longer the interview went on, the more she realized that she was little more than a commodity to these men. They weren’t interested in her thoughts, her desires, or her future. They were interested in what she could bring to their homes—obedience, beauty, and children. She could see it in their eyes as they sized her up, as if placing bids in their minds on how much she was worth.

At one point, the elder leader leaned forward, his gaze settling on her with a look of quiet greed. “Your father must be a lucky man,” he said, his voice low. “The offers coming in are quite substantial. Men are eager to claim such a prize.”

Lena felt a chill run down her spine, though she kept her expression carefully neutral. This was the reality she had always known, the future she had been trained for, but hearing it said so plainly made it feel even more degrading.

“The highest bidder,” the man continued with a smirk, “will be making quite the payment to your father. It seems your hand is in high demand.”

Lena nodded, her head lowered in feigned humility. Inside, though, her heart pounded with a mixture of disgust and dread. She had known this moment was coming, but she hadn’t expected to feel so powerless in the face of it. She was being sold—her worth determined by the size of the payment a man was willing to offer.

The interview continued, the elder leader’s questions growing more personal, more invasive, until finally, it was over. Lena was dismissed with a wave of his hand, and she curtsied, her face an expression of perfect obedience, before she turned to leave.

But inside, the fire of resistance burned hotter than ever. She had spent nearly a year pretending, becoming the perfect student, the perfect servant. She had mastered the game they wanted her to play. But now, as her future was being sold off to the highest bidder, Lena knew that something had to change.

She couldn’t let them take everything from her. Not yet.

[IsabellaRose]

When Lena returned to the quad after her degrading interview with the elder leader, she felt the weight of her future pressing down on her more than ever. The ornate halls of the cloister had never felt so confining, so suffocating. Every step felt heavier as she made her way back to the small space she now shared with three other girls.

But it was the shared bedroom with Silvia that had become her sanctuary. The two of them had grown closer than ever in the last few months. In a world where trust was scarce and intimacy was dangerous, Lena had found solace in Silvia’s presence. Their bond, born from the stolen moments and whispered confessions, had deepened into something neither of them had expected.

As Lena pushed open the door to their bedroom, she saw Silvia sitting on her bed, her legs tucked beneath her, reading quietly. When Silvia looked up, concern flickered in her eyes. She could always tell when something was bothering Lena.

“How did it go?” Silvia asked softly, setting the book aside.

Lena didn’t answer right away. She crossed the room and sat down beside Silvia, her shoulders tense, her mind still reeling from the elder leader’s words. The quiet of their bedroom, the familiar scent of worn blankets and soft candlelight, was a comfort after the harshness of the interview.

“It was…” Lena started, but the words felt too heavy. She glanced at Silvia, seeing the same understanding in her eyes that had been there so many times before. She didn’t have to explain it all—the interview, the leering gazes, the realization that she was nothing more than a prize to be won. Silvia understood. She always did.

Without saying another word, Silvia wrapped her arms around Lena, pulling her into a gentle embrace. Lena leaned into her, the tension in her body slowly easing as she rested her head against Silvia’s shoulder. The closeness between them had always been a source of comfort, a place where Lena could let her guard down and just be.

The two of them lay back on the bed, curling up together the way they often did at night, spooning beneath the thin blankets. It wasn’t about romance or desire—it was about the warmth and safety they found in each other, the knowledge that in this cold, unforgiving place, they were not alone.

Lena closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of Silvia’s breathing calm her racing thoughts. The weight of the world outside their room faded for a moment as they held each other, their bodies close, their hearts beating in sync.

“I don’t know how much longer I can pretend,” Lena whispered after a long silence. “I don’t want to be someone’s… prize.”

Silvia’s hand gently squeezed hers. “We’ll figure something out,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure. “We always do.”

And for now, that was enough.

[IsabellaRose]

Lena and Silvia shared the quad with two other young women, Isolde and Marina, who bunked together in the other bedroom that attached to the common room.

Isolde was a quiet, reserved girl who kept to herself most of the time. She was deeply pious and seemed to fully embrace the teachings of the Divine State, or at least, she projected that image outwardly. Isolde rarely spoke unless spoken to, and her compliance had earned her favor with the Mothers. Beneath her compliant exterior, however, Lena was uncertain whether she truly believed in the Divine State's teachings or if she was simply a survivalist like Lena, doing what she must to get through the cloister.

Marina, on the other hand, was a more social and outspoken girl, though she remained within the acceptable boundaries of behavior in the cloister. She had a bubbly personality and was good at playing the part of the obedient, pious woman, but unlike Isolde, there was a certain playfulness to her that suggested that she didn’t take it all as seriously as she should. Marina often found subtle ways to bend the rules without outright breaking them, and while she appeared carefree, there was a sharpness to her intelligence. She was quick-witted and observant, and Lena suspected Marina was more like her and Silvia that she let on.

As Lena settled into the final stretch of her time in the cloister, the dynamics within her quad shifted subtly. The four women—Lena, Silvia, Isolde, and Marina—had begun spending more time together, relaxing in their shared common room and enjoying the privileges that came with their elevated status. The looming reality of their future roles as wives to elder members of the Divine State was always present, but for now, they were encouraged to bond, to build the friendships that would carry them through the rest of their lives.

They were given private meals, time to chat without the constant oversight of the Mothers, and the freedom to talk openly about what was to come. The quad had been deliberately chosen—these four women would likely be married into the same harem or to husbands whose estates were near each other. Their lives would be intertwined, and it was clear that the cloister wanted them to form bonds that would last. Sisterhood was the word they were given, though it felt more like a carefully curated alliance.

Silvia, with her natural warmth, had taken to this closeness easily. She had always been tactile, her touches gentle and affectionate, but now she extended that warmth to Isolde and Marina as well. Cuddling, as it turned out, wasn’t reserved for Lena anymore. Silvia’s arms would often wrap around Marina’s waist as they sat on the floor together, or she would lean her head on Isolde’s shoulder during one of their private meals.

It shouldn’t have bothered Lena, but it did. The intimacy she shared with Silvia—the secret moments they had stolen when they were alone—now felt less special, less unique. Silvia’s affection for the others was innocent enough, but it left Lena feeling more alone than she expected.

One evening, as the four of them sat around the low table in their common room, enjoying the rare luxury of a private dinner, Lena found herself watching Silvia as she laughed and leaned into Marina’s side. Marina, ever the playful one, teased Silvia, and Isolde smiled quietly at their banter.

“You’re so easy to fluster,” Marina giggled, nudging Silvia with her elbow.

Silvia chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “I’m not flustered. I just enjoy being close to my sisters.”

Lena forced a smile, though her chest tightened at the words. Sisters. That was what they were supposed to be, but for Lena, Silvia had always been more than that. And now, seeing her affection spread to Isolde and Marina, Lena couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She had thought their bond was different, special, but now it seemed like Silvia’s warmth wasn’t just for her—it was for everyone.

“You’ve always been the cuddly one,” Isolde remarked, her tone light. “I’ve never met someone who enjoys physical closeness as much as you do.”

Silvia shrugged, a playful grin on her face. “It’s comforting. We’re going to be family, after all. We should enjoy being close to one another.”

Lena’s heart sank a little as the others nodded in agreement, and she silently picked at her food, lost in her thoughts. The sisterhood they were being encouraged to form was necessary for their future lives, but for Lena, it made her feel more isolated from Silvia than ever.

[IsabellaRose]

Something woke Lena in the middle of a night like any other. There was no sound, nothing obvious, just a feeling. She looked to Silvia’s bed, but she was not there. She wondered if something had woken Silvia as well. She stretched and rose from bed, heading out into their common room to see what Silvia could be up to, but she wasn't there. She was not in the small lavatory, either. It was strange. Where could she have gone?

Lena heard a sound from Isolde and Marina's room. Perhaps one of them was also awake, but just in case, she decided to peek inside rather than knock and wake them. She cracked the door and peered inside, and there, in the sliver of moonlight shining in from their bedroom window, she saw Silvia in bed with Marina. Their bare bodies writhed, their faces buried between each other’s legs as they performed unspeakable acts on each other. Lena barely kept from letting out an audible gasp and backed out of the room, closing the door a bit too loudly.

The sound of the door closing must have awoken Isolde, because Lena could hear her cry of shock and the ensuing sobs as Isolde told Marina and Silvia that they would be sent to the service centers for sure. Marina argued that it would only happen if Isolde turned them in, and Isolde insisted that it was her duty to do so. Lena slowly backed away, none of them aware that she saw a thing as she sneaked back to her bedroom and climbed back into bed.

Lena's heart pounded in her chest as she lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. Her mind raced, replaying the scene she had just witnessed. Silvia, the person she trusted most in the cloister, had been in Marina's bed, their bodies entwined in a way that left nothing to the imagination. It was more than just a betrayal of trust—it was dangerous. And now, Isolde had seen them too.

Lena tried to control her breathing, her hands trembling as she clutched the blanket. She had backed out of the room quietly, making sure none of them saw her as she returned to her own bed. She didn’t want to be part of whatever was about to happen next.

Isolde’s sobs echoed in her mind, her panicked words about duty and turning them in to the Mothers. Silvia and Marina had argued, pleading with her, but the fear in their voices told Lena everything she needed to know. This wasn’t just a private indiscretion—it could ruin them all. The threat of the service centers loomed over everything like a dark cloud, and if Isolde followed through on her promise to report them, Silvia and Marina could face unimaginable punishment.

Lena’s thoughts churned. Should she do something? Could she stop Isolde? Or would it be safer to stay hidden, to let the events play out without her involvement?

Her mind was filled with doubt, but one thing was clear—everything had changed. The fragile bond of sisterhood that the cloister had carefully cultivated between them had been shattered in a single night. Now, they were all at risk, and Lena wasn’t sure who she could trust anymore.

[IsabellaRose]

Lena's hands trembled as she sat before the Inspectors, the cold stone walls of the room making the space feel even more oppressive. The weight of what had happened pressed heavily on her chest, but she kept her face neutral, her eyes downcast in the way she had been taught. She had to be careful—one wrong word, one slip, and everything could unravel.

They asked their questions in that cold, detached manner that was meant to intimidate.

"Did you notice anything unusual in the behavior of Silvia or Marina?" one of the Inspectors asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.

Lena shook her head, keeping her voice steady. "No, sir. I saw nothing suspicious."

"Nothing at all?" another Inspector pressed, his voice laced with suspicion. "No conversations, no signs of improper behavior?"

"No, sir," Lena repeated, her heart pounding in her chest. She kept her hands folded in her lap, doing her best to appear calm and compliant. "I assumed everything was as it should be."

There was a long silence as the Inspectors exchanged glances. Lena's stomach churned, but she kept her gaze fixed on the table in front of her, waiting for the next question. She knew what was at stake. If they thought she had known and failed to report it, she could be sent to the service centers too.

Finally, one of the Inspectors nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Very well. You are dismissed."

Lena stood, her legs shaky beneath her, and left the room as calmly as she could manage. The moment the door closed behind her, she let out a shaky breath, her hands still trembling. She had gotten through the interrogation, but the weight of what had happened was far from over.

Silvia and Marina had been locked away, isolated from the rest of the girls. Prepared for the service centers. The punishment for their actions was swift and brutal, and there would be no escape for them. Lena had tried to distance herself from it, to convince herself that it was out of her control, but the guilt lingered. She had known. She had seen. And she had said nothing.

Now, Silvia and Marina would face a fate worse than anything she could imagine.

Lena made her way back to her room, her mind racing. She had survived the interrogation, but at what cost? She had lost two people she had grown close to, and the fear of what could happen to her still lingered.

[IsabellaRose]

As Isolde wept into Lena’s arms, her body trembling with the weight of what she had done, Lena forced herself to hold her, to murmur the soothing words she knew Isolde wanted to hear. Isolde clung to her like a child, her sobs muffled against Lena's chest as she rambled about duty and righteousness.

“They were… they were sinners, Lena,” Isolde choked out, her voice shaking. “I had to do it. They couldn’t be allowed to… to disgrace the Divine State, to lie with those men. They’re supposed to be holy men.”

Lena's arms tightened around her, though the gesture felt hollow. Outwardly, she projected comfort, her hand stroking Isolde’s hair as though she was consoling her sister, but inside, Lena’s mind raged. Isolde, with her naive compliance, her blind faith, had destroyed two of the only people Lena could trust. Silvia and Marina were gone now, and all because Isolde had been too devoted to the twisted teachings of the cloister to see the truth.

“They were sinners, yes,” Lena whispered, her voice soft and filled with false empathy. “You did what you had to do.”

Isolde hiccupped and buried her face deeper into Lena’s chest. “I loved them like sisters, but they betrayed us. They betrayed everything. I couldn’t—” Her voice broke, and she started sobbing again.

Lena gritted her teeth, swallowing the bitter anger that simmered beneath the surface. “You’re right,” she said, her voice calm and soothing. “You couldn’t let them bring shame to the Divine State.”

But inside, all she could think was how stupid, compliant, and blind Isolde was. The same system that Isolde so fervently upheld had taken Silvia and Marina away, and now Lena was trapped, pretending to care, pretending to be loyal when all she wanted was to scream.

She continued to hold Isolde, the lie on her lips, while inwardly cursing the girl who had torn apart the fragile sense of sisterhood they had once shared.

[IsabellaRose]

As Lena sat alone later that night, her mind raced with conflicting thoughts, each one more suffocating than the last. She had spent so many nights with Silvia, trusting her, letting herself believe that their closeness was a form of comfort in the midst of the nightmare that was the cloister. But now, in the wake of what had happened, Lena’s perspective began to shift.

Had she been blind? Naive?

She replayed all their moments together in her head—the way Silvia had always touched her, the hugs that lingered, the nights they had lain close in bed, spooning for comfort. What had once seemed innocent, a refuge from the isolation, now felt tainted. Lena couldn’t help but second-guess every touch, every look. Had Silvia been attracted to her all along? Had she been silently objectified, even by the one person she thought she could trust?

Her chest tightened with anger. The idea that Silvia, who had been her confidante, might have viewed her the same way the men of the Divine State did—as an object—made her stomach churn. All this time, Lena had believed their closeness was born from a shared struggle, a mutual need for support in a place that sought to strip them of everything. But now, with the knowledge of Silvia’s actions with Marina, she couldn’t help but question everything.

Had Silvia ever truly cared for her, or had Lena just been another body to her, another person to project her desires onto? The thought festered, and her anger only grew. The betrayal wasn’t just in Silvia’s relationship with Marina—it was in the idea that Lena had been used, seen not as a friend, but as something more.

Lena clenched her fists, her jaw tight as the weight of her emotions bore down on her. She had been deceived, both by Silvia and by her own need for connection. The anger swelled inside her, a fire that only seemed to burn hotter with each passing minute.

And now, with Silvia locked away, about to face a fate worse than anything Lena could imagine, there would never be a chance for answers.

[IsabellaRose]

The courtyard was filled with noise as the girls lined up to watch the procession of shame. Silvia and Marina were dragged forward in chains, their heads bowed, their faces marked with the harsh red ink that labeled them as traitors. The air was thick with tension, the atmosphere charged with a cruel energy as the girls began to do what was expected of them—throwing scraps of garbage, spitting, shouting insults at the two women who had once been their friends.

The Mothers Superior stood at the edges of the courtyard, their expressions stern as they watched, ensuring that every girl played her part in condemning the traitors. It was a lesson in loyalty, in obedience. To show mercy would be seen as weakness, as rebellion, and no one wanted to suffer the same fate as Silvia and Marina.

Lena stood among the other girls, her stomach churning as she watched the spectacle unfold. She could hear the jeers, the cruel laughter, the sound of rotting food being hurled at the two women. Her fingers tightened into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to keep her composure.

When Silvia and Marina were dragged past her, Lena’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. Silvia—the person she had shared so many moments with, the one who had once held her close—was now a shadow of herself, her face pale and her eyes hollow with fear and shame. But even through the humiliation, their eyes met for a brief moment.

In that instant, Lena saw it. Despite everything, despite the betrayal and the punishment, Silvia and Marina were still her sisters. There was no hatred in their eyes, no resentment. Only the shared understanding of what they had been through, what they were about to endure. They were about to be lost to the service centers, but they were still human, still the people she had known.

Lena’s heart screamed at her to do something, to show them that she hadn’t abandoned them, but then she felt the cold, watchful gaze of Mother Elara on her. The weight of the entire cloister pressed down on her, demanding compliance.

Swallowing her disgust, her sorrow, Lena forced her face into a mask of disdain. She spat on Silvia and Marina as they passed, the act tearing something inside her. It was the ultimate betrayal, but it was the only way to survive. To keep herself safe. To avoid suspicion.

As Silvia’s eyes met hers one last time, Lena knew she had seen through the charade. But there was no time for regret, no room for anything other than the oppressive force of the Divine State.

When the procession moved on, Lena stood frozen, the taste of bile in her mouth, her heart heavy with the weight of what she had done.

[IsabellaRose]

After Silvia and Marina were taken away, the cloisters became an increasingly isolated and suffocating place for Lena. Though she and Isolde were held up as examples of what a pious woman should be—obedient, faithful, willing to sacrifice even their closest bonds for the sake of the Divine State—the admiration from the Mothers Superior felt hollow. The praise only deepened the emptiness inside her.

The other women in the cloister began to fear her. Lena, the one who had been part of the group, the one who had shared in the same moments of quiet rebellion with Silvia and Marina, was now seen as someone who had turned against her own sisters. The price of survival was heavy, and she paid it every day in the cold, wary glances from the other girls.

Her only remaining companion was Isolde, the girl who had turned in Silvia and Marina without hesitation, believing she was doing the right thing. Isolde clung to Lena, always seeking her approval, talking about their shared “purity” and the rewards that awaited them for their devotion. But Isolde’s blind faith, her complete submission to the teachings of the Divine State, grated on Lena more each day.

Lena knew, deep down, that Isolde was brainwashed. She could see it in the way Isolde recited the tenets of their faith without question, in how she could justify any cruelty, any punishment, as being part of God's will. For Isolde, there was no doubt, no conflict. She was the perfect disciple.

But for Lena, the isolation, the facade of piety, and the loss of Silvia and Marina had hollowed her out. Every prayer, every act of obedience, felt like a lie. And yet, she continued to wear the mask, pretending to be the model woman, even as the loneliness consumed her.

In the quiet of the cloister, where she was both admired and feared, Lena realized she was more alone than she had ever been.

[IsabellaRose]

As the months passed, Lena perfected the art of conformity. What had once been a mask, a necessary survival tactic, began to feel more and more like a second skin. She carried herself with the grace and obedience expected of her, every action carefully aligned with the teachings of the cloister. The praise from the Mothers Superior no longer felt hollow—it began to fill a part of her that had been empty for so long.

When they commended her for her devotion, her diligence, and her piety, Lena felt something stir inside her. Was it pride? Or had she simply worn the mask for so long that she had started to become what they wanted her to be? It was a question she no longer had a clear answer to.

Then came the day when it was her turn to stand on display in the courtyard, one of the girls chosen to be presented to the men of the Divine State. The younger girls watched from a distance as Lena and the other soon-to-be brides were lined up, dressed in tailored dresses meant to highlight their figures and femininity.

As the men—both young and old—passed by, they commented on the girls, assessing them as though they were pieces of property to be admired. Lena, standing tall and graceful, felt their gazes settle on her, their murmured comments about her figure reaching her ears.

“She’s beautiful,” one of the men said, his voice appreciative as he pointed out the curve of her waist, the softness of her features.

“Perfectly shaped,” another added, his eyes trailing over her form. “A fine addition to any household.”

Lena should have felt disgusted, objectified, just as she had when the elder leaders had sized her up during the interview. But instead, she felt a blush rise to her cheeks—a flicker of pride. They admired her, praised her for her beauty, for her womanly assets.

And in that moment, Lena didn’t know if she was still pretending or if she had begun to give in.

[IsabellaRose]

The weeks leading up to the ball were an exhausting blur for Lena. Every waking moment was dedicated to perfecting the skills she had been taught throughout her time in the cloister. The Mothers Superior drilled the girls mercilessly, ensuring that every curtsy was flawless, every dance step graceful, every moment of service a testament to their obedience and submission.

Lena moved through the whirlwind of preparations with a strange sense of detachment. The repetition of it all—the curtsies, the kneeling, the endless practice of serving tea and wine—had become second nature. The expectations no longer felt like burdens; they were simply part of her routine, her role. But even as she went through the motions, she couldn’t shake the growing tension in her chest. The ball loomed large, not just as a test of everything she had learned, but as the moment her fate would be sealed.

Her gown fitting was one of the few moments of quiet during the chaotic week. She stood still as the seamstress adjusted the fabric, her hands expertly smoothing out the fine material as it was pinned in place. The dress was beautiful—soft, flowing, designed to highlight her figure while maintaining the modesty required by the Divine State’s standards. It felt strange, though, to see herself in such finery after months of plain, utilitarian clothing.

“You’ll make quite the impression,” the seamstress said, stepping back to admire her work. “The men won’t be able to take their eyes off you.”

Lena nodded, though the compliment felt hollow. She knew what was expected of her, but beneath the surface, the question lingered: Was this really the life she wanted?

The week passed quickly, and before Lena knew it, the day of the ball had arrived. The girls from the cloisters were gathered together, their faces pale with nerves, their gowns pristine. They whispered to each other in hushed tones, trying to calm their racing hearts as they prepared to step into the grand hall where the men awaited.

Lena stood among them, her heart pounding in her chest. She had worn the mask of conformity for so long, and now, as she prepared to enter the ball, she wondered if there was anything left of the girl she had once been.

[IsabellaRose]

As the other girls fidgeted nervously, their hands shaking, their faces pale with anxiety, Lena stood apart, her face a picture of serene calm. Where once her expression had been carefully crafted, a mask of obedience to survive the cloister, now it seemed to radiate with an unshakable tranquility. The acceptance of her fate, the acceptance of her role in the Divine State, had settled into her with such ease that it felt natural. There was no longer a struggle, no longer a question of whether she was wearing a mask.

Her beauty, which had always been evident to those who observed her, now seemed to glow with an inner light. The tension, the fear, the rebellion she had once harbored—whether real or imagined—had faded, leaving behind a woman fully at peace with her submission to the divine order. In the eyes of the Divine State, she had become the ideal—perfectly molded by the cloister, untouched by doubt.

As the doors to the grand hall opened, the other girls hesitated, their steps uncertain, but not Lena. Her head held high, her steps graceful, she walked forward with quiet confidence, her gaze steady. She no longer felt the need to pretend, to hide behind a mask of piety. This was who she had become, who she had always been meant to be.

The men in the hall—elder leaders, sons of the ruling elite—watched as the women entered. Their eyes lingered on Lena as she moved with effortless grace, her beauty undeniable, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the nervousness of the others. She did not falter, did not waver, and for the first time, she felt no fear of what lay ahead.

For Lena, the ball was no longer a trial, but a culmination. A moment in which she would step fully into the life she had been prepared for, without hesitation, without regret. The path before her was clear, and she was ready to walk it.

[IsabellaRose]

As Lena moved gracefully through the grand hall, she could feel the weight of every gaze upon her. The men, their eyes hungry with desire and admiration, the other girls, their expressions laced with jealousy, and the Mothers Superior, watching her with a quiet, almost smug pride. They all believed they were witnessing the perfect creation of the Divine State—obedient, graceful, submissive. She was, in their eyes, the ideal woman, molded perfectly by the cloister.

But as Lena glided through the room, her serene mask firmly in place, she felt a flicker of doubt deep inside. Was this truly who she had become? Or had she simply worn the mask for so long that it had become impossible to tell where the mask ended and she began?

The calm, radiant beauty she projected was what they expected, what they wanted to see. But underneath, Lena was no longer sure if she was pretending or if she had lost herself entirely to the role. She had been trained so thoroughly, so relentlessly, that her performance was flawless. And yet, a quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered doubts, reminding her of the girl she had been before, the girl who had once questioned everything.

Had she fooled them all, or had she fooled herself?

As the night wore on, the men continued to watch her, their admiration evident in every glance. They saw what they wanted to see—a woman perfectly aligned with the Divine State, ready to be claimed, to be owned. But Lena, standing tall and poised, wondered if she was still the same person she had been before, or if she had finally become the perfect reflection of what they had wanted her to be all along.

The thought gnawed at her as she smiled demurely, curtsying to yet another elder leader. The mask was seamless, but somewhere deep inside, Lena wondered if there was anything left behind it at all.

[IsabellaRose]

The night unfolded in a carefully orchestrated sequence, designed to showcase the women in their most submissive and servile roles. Lena moved gracefully through the hall, the weight of a wine jug in her hand as she poured for the men seated at long, ornate tables. Her every movement was deliberate, precise—the perfect example of the training she had received in the cloister. Each time she served a man, she would dip into a low curtsey, her eyes demurely lowered, until she felt the subtle shift, the unspoken command that a man wanted to see her face.

In those moments, when she lifted her gaze to meet theirs, she knew the effect it had. Her eyes sparkled with a promise—obedience, devotion, subservience. She knew exactly how to look at them, how to give them the illusion of complete surrender while maintaining control of the situation. Each smile she offered was carefully measured, a hint of warmth, a subtle suggestion that she would give herself to them and them alone.

One after another, the men fell for her. The younger ones, barely more than boys themselves, were enchanted by her beauty and the quiet confidence she exuded. The older men, seasoned leaders of the Divine State, were drawn to the spark in her eyes—the fire that she let them believe only they could stoke.

Lena felt their admiration like a weight on her shoulders, but she wore it well, playing the role they expected of her. The perfect woman, the obedient servant. And yet, as she moved from one man to the next, she couldn’t help but feel the growing dissonance inside her. They were falling in love with a projection, a version of her that had been crafted by the cloister, by the Divine State. They were not seeing her—they were seeing what they wanted to see.

Still, Lena played her part flawlessly. Her eyes, her smile, her graceful movements—all of it was calculated, perfected over the years. And as she continued to serve, she could feel the weight of their desires pressing down on her, their expectations rising with every glance, every word.

But even as she won their hearts, Lena couldn’t escape the quiet voice in her mind asking if she had already lost her own.

[IsabellaRose]

As Lena made her way toward the back of the hall to retrieve a fresh jug of wine, Mother Elara stepped into her path. The sudden appearance of the older woman startled her for only a moment, but Lena quickly adjusted, dipping into a low curtsey out of habit. She could feel the weight of Mother Elara’s gaze, the same critical eyes that had watched her every move since the day she had entered the cloister.

“Lena,” Mother Elara said, her voice smooth, almost warm. “You are the belle of the ball tonight. The men cannot take their eyes off you.”

Lena kept her gaze lowered, as expected, but she felt the strange thrill of pride at the compliment. She had been prepared for this moment, trained for it, and now she was being rewarded with praise from the woman who had once doubted her.

Mother Elara stepped closer, her voice lowering as if confiding something special. “I must admit, Lena, I had my doubts about you when you first came to us. You were stubborn, defiant even. But now…” She paused, letting her words hang in the air. “Now, you have become a true model of what we seek in our women—divine submission, perfect obedience. You carry yourself with such grace, such quiet strength. I am proud of you, as if you were my own daughter.”

Lena felt her heart skip a beat. Mother Elara’s words, spoken with a maternal warmth, should have comforted her, but they only deepened the conflict within her. Was this really who she had become? The pride in the older woman’s voice cut through Lena like a knife, because in that moment, she realized that she had succeeded so completely in wearing the mask of obedience that even Mother Elara believed it was real.

She forced a smile onto her face, the practiced, demure expression that had won her so many hearts tonight. “Thank you, Mother Elara,” Lena replied softly. “I have only sought to serve as you’ve taught me.”

Mother Elara smiled, the gesture softening her usually stern features. “And serve you have, beautifully.” She placed a hand gently on Lena’s shoulder. “I knew you had potential. You’ve fulfilled it.”

With that, Mother Elara gave a small nod of approval and stepped aside, leaving Lena to continue her duties. But as Lena walked away, the weight of those words bore down on her. She had been praised as the perfect woman, the model of submission. But at what cost?

The mask she wore had become so perfect that even she struggled to tell where it ended and where she began.

[IsabellaRose]

As Lena stood quietly at one side of the grand hall, her hands folded demurely in front of her, Isolde sidled up beside her, barely glancing her way. They were meant to remain poised and silent, ever the picture of obedience and grace. But Isolde’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and she couldn’t keep the words from slipping out in a barely audible whisper.

“Did you hear?” she whispered, leaning just slightly toward Lena. “The Divine Leader himself is here tonight.”

Lena’s stomach tightened at the mention of the Divine Leader, the most powerful man in the entire state—the one whose word shaped their world, whose authority was absolute.

Isolde continued, her voice filled with eager anticipation. “I heard he’s looking for a new wife. His first succumbed to illness not long ago, and now…” She paused, her excitement palpable. “The rumor is that he’s had his eye on you, Lena.”

Lena’s breath caught in her throat, though she kept her face composed, her eyes forward. The thought of being selected by the Divine Leader felt like a wave of cold dread sweeping through her, but she couldn’t show it. Not here. Not now.

“And,” Isolde added, her whisper growing even more hushed, “I’m in the running to join his harem as well. Isn’t it wonderful? We could be sisterwives, Lena. Imagine that! We could spend the rest of our lives together.”

There was a giddy excitement in Isolde’s voice, as if this was the highest honor she could imagine, the culmination of everything they had been trained for. Lena, however, felt the walls closing in around her. The possibility of being married off to the Divine Leader, the man who held absolute control over everyone in the Divine State, wasn’t something to celebrate—it was a prison from which there would be no escape.

But she forced a smile, the mask of obedience slipping effortlessly into place. “Perhaps,” she whispered back, her voice calm, betraying none of the turmoil raging inside her.

[IsabellaRose]

Lena's mind raced as she stood beside Isolde, her outward composure hiding the panic that had begun to grip her. If the rumors were true—if the Divine Leader truly had his eye on her—then her carefully laid plans for escape would be crushed before they even began. Being trapped in his palace, constantly watched by the military, would be the end of her freedom, the end of any hope of slipping away unnoticed.

She had envisioned a different future for herself, one where she was married to a lesser member of the church or a minor government official—someone important enough to ensure her safety but distant enough to allow her the freedom she needed. A large estate, perhaps, with rooms to disappear into and a husband too busy with his duties to pay her much mind. In that kind of life, she could have maintained the mask, playing the role of the obedient wife while quietly plotting her escape.

But the Divine Leader's palace? There would be no such freedoms there. No space to breathe, no moments to slip away. The Divine Leader was always surrounded by his guards, his home a fortress from which no one could easily flee.

Lena knew she needed to find out if the rumors were true, and she needed to do it quickly. If her name was truly being considered for such a fate, she had to act before it was too late. But how? The hall was filled with men, and the Mothers Superior were watching them closely, ensuring their every move was perfect, every smile in place. She couldn’t afford to make a wrong step now.

But she also couldn’t afford to wait.

[IsabellaRose]

The music swelled, and before Lena could act on her thoughts, the first dance began. She, along with the other women, gracefully took her place in the line, heart pounding beneath her calm exterior. The dance was one she knew well—traditional, formal, a showcase of grace and obedience where partners exchanged in a steady rhythm.

As the men approached, one by one, Lena felt their eyes on her. Each time she turned to meet a new partner, their gazes said more than words ever could. Hungry looks, filled with desire and possession, scanned her up and down, assessing her as if she were nothing more than a prize to be won. Some smiled at her with a sickening charm, while others barely bothered to hide the leering glances that spoke of darker intentions. A few offered her curt, demeaning stares, as though she were an object, a body to be used for pleasure, not a person with thoughts, hopes, or dreams.

The realization hit her with every step, every turn in the dance: none of them saw her. They didn’t care about who she was, only about what she represented—an obedient wife, a perfect servant, something to control.

Lena kept her composure, her movements flawless, but inside, the conflict roiled. How much longer could she keep this up? How much longer could she wear the mask when it felt as though her very identity was slipping away, consumed by the role they expected her to play? And more than that, if the Divine Leader truly had his eye on her, would she ever escape this life? Would she be condemned to a future of being nothing more than a possession, locked away in a place where freedom was a distant memory?

The dance continued, the weight of every gaze pressing down on her, the whispers of the rumors swirling in her mind. Time was running out, and the moment to act was slipping further and further away.

Lena's mind raced as she stood beside Isolde, her outward composure hiding the panic that had begun to grip her. If the rumors were true—if the Divine Leader truly had his eye on her—then her carefully laid plans for escape would be crushed before they even began. Being trapped in his palace, constantly watched by the military, would be the end of her freedom, the end of any hope of slipping away unnoticed.

She had envisioned a different future for herself, one where she was married to a lesser member of the church or a minor government official—someone important enough to ensure her safety but distant enough to allow her the freedom she needed. A large estate, perhaps, with rooms to disappear into and a husband too busy with his duties to pay her much mind. In that kind of life, she could have maintained the mask, playing the role of the obedient wife while quietly plotting her escape.

But the Divine Leader's palace? There would be no such freedoms there. No space to breathe, no moments to slip away. The Divine Leader was always surrounded by his guards, his home a fortress from which no one could easily flee.

Lena knew she needed to find out if the rumors were true, and she needed to do it quickly. If her name was truly being considered for such a fate, she had to act before it was too late. But how? The hall was filled with men, and the Mothers Superior were watching them closely, ensuring their every move was perfect, every smile in place. She couldn’t afford to make a wrong step now.

But she also couldn’t afford to wait.

[IsabellaRose]

As the music for the next dance began, the tone of the night shifted. This was no longer about exchanging partners in a formal line. This was a performance, a test of the girls' skills and elegance—a display crafted to show off every inch of their bodies, their grace, their flexibility, and, most importantly, their ability to work together. This dance wasn’t just about pleasing the men in attendance; it was about proving they could serve, entertain, and complement one another in perfect harmony.

Lena and Isolde had been paired together, their movements already familiar from the countless hours spent practicing in their shared common room. It wasn’t just practice, though—it was the unspoken bond they had formed, a sisterhood that allowed them to anticipate each other’s steps, to move fluidly as one. Their bodies moved in sync, twisting into the intricate, carefully choreographed poses that highlighted their curves, bending and stretching in ways designed to catch the eye of the watching men.

As they danced, Lena could feel every gaze on them—hungry, possessive, and expectant. The movements were designed to showcase their bodies, the way they leaned on each other for balance, the way their limbs stretched and curved with every twist. Their dresses, while modest in fabric, were crafted to accentuate every line of their figures, making each step a spectacle of control and submission.

Lena moved through the dance with practiced ease, her body following the rhythm effortlessly. Every turn, every pose was designed to please. She and Isolde mirrored each other with precision, their bodies arching and flowing, bending in a way that felt as if they were one. It was perfect, seamless.

But as the dance continued, Lena’s mind wandered. She felt the tension in her muscles, the strain of maintaining balance, the sharp awareness of how every movement was being watched, scrutinized, judged. The dance, for all its beauty, was a test—a performance meant to strip away their humanity and reduce them to objects of desire. And yet, Lena couldn’t afford to falter. Not now.

[IsabellaRose]

After the dance, the atmosphere in the hall shifted once again. The lights dimmed slightly, and the women were escorted to small, curtained alcoves along the sides of the grand room, places where they would have private moments with potential suitors. It was a chance for the men to speak to the women directly, to make their offers more personal, more enticing.

Lena barely had time to collect herself before she was pulled into the first alcove. The curtain closed behind her, and she found herself face-to-face with one of the elder leaders, his eyes scanning her in that all-too-familiar way. His smile was warm, but there was something possessive behind it, a quiet greed that sent a chill down her spine.

“You would be so happy as my wife,” he murmured, leaning in just slightly, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “I would make sure you wanted for nothing. You would please me, wouldn’t you?”

Lena forced a smile, her head bowed in submission. “Of course, sir. I would do everything in my power to make you happy.”

It was a line she had perfected, a response she had rehearsed a hundred times over in her mind. She knew exactly how to play the role, to give the appearance of eager compliance. And yet, with every word, she felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her.

The moment the elder leader released her, another man pulled her into the next alcove, the curtain snapping shut behind them. This one was younger, barely more than a boy, but the look in his eyes was the same. Hungry. Expectant.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, leaning closer than necessary. “You would make the most beautiful wife. Think of how much you could give me. How much you could do for me.”

Lena’s smile never faltered, though inside, she wanted to scream. “I would be honored to please you,” she whispered back, her voice laced with the false charm she had mastered. “I would serve you with all my heart.”

Each alcove was the same. Each man offered promises of happiness, of wealth, of security—always wrapped in the same thinly veiled expectation that her role would be to please, to serve, to submit. They spoke to her as though she were a prize to be won, something to be claimed.

It was infuriating. Exhausting. But Lena knew that she could not afford to let her mask slip. She played the part with precision, giving each man the same smile, the same promise that she would be the perfect wife. Inside, though, she was screaming, desperate for the night to end, desperate for some way to escape the suffocating future that was closing in around her.

[IsabellaRose]

Lena barely had time to catch her breath before another suitor pulled her into yet another alcove. The curtain snapped shut behind them, and this time, the man was younger—barely out of boyhood, his face flushed with alcohol, his movements more aggressive. His eyes gleamed with something darker, something that made Lena’s skin crawl.

Before she could speak, his hands were on her, one cupping her between the legs, his grip firm and possessive. “You’d beg to please me,” he slurred, his breath hot and sour with drink. “I’d make you beg. I want to taste you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His words were filled with lewd promises, things he would do to her, things she would do for him. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered his vile suggestions.

Lena froze, her heart racing as his hand lingered, squeezing, pressing. Everything in her screamed to push him away, to cry out, but she knew better. In the Divine State, she could not afford to complain. She could not afford to resist. If she did, it would be seen as defiance, as a failure to submit. The consequences would fall squarely on her, not him.

For a brief moment, she wondered if this was a test—if somewhere, Mother Elara or one of the other Mothers Superior was watching to see how she would react, if she would break under the pressure. But whether it was a test or not, the result would be the same. She had to keep up the facade. She had to be the perfect, obedient woman they had molded her to be.

So Lena let the man continue, her face an expression of calm submission, even as his hands roamed her body. Inside, her stomach churned with disgust, her mind screaming at the injustice of it. But she knew there was no escape. Not yet.

She smiled softly, her voice barely a whisper. “If it pleases you, sir,” she said, the words hollow and empty, as she forced herself to endure the man’s touch, waiting for the moment it would finally end.

[IsabellaRose]

It was like emerging from a nightmare. As Lena slipped out of the alcove, her body trembling with the aftershock of the encounter, she felt the weight of his words pressing down on her. Not done with her—the threat lingered in the air, a reminder of how powerless she truly was. But what turned her skin cold wasn’t his drunken advances; it was the whispers that followed.

Potential first wife of the Divine Leader.

The words echoed in her mind, each syllable sharp and cutting. It wasn’t just a rumor anymore. Men were talking, and the idea that the Divine Leader had his eye on her was no longer just gossip. The men who had stepped in to calm the drunken suitor were not protecting her—they were protecting their own interests, ensuring that she remained unsullied for the most powerful man in the Divine State.

Lena stood still for a moment, forcing herself to breathe, to regain her composure. She could feel her pulse in her throat, her skin prickling with the cold sweat of realization. This wasn’t just a ball, and these weren’t just suitors vying for her attention. This was the start of something far darker, something inescapable.

The thought of being locked away in the Divine Leader’s palace, of being his first wife, his possession, loomed over her like a shadow. And now, more than ever, she knew she had to find a way out—before it was too late.

As Lena turned, her heart still racing from the encounter, she froze. Standing directly in front of her was the Divine Leader himself. He looked nothing like she had imagined. Younger, stronger, and more virile than the whispers of his power and control had led her to believe. His presence filled the space between them, dominating without effort, and his eyes—hard, sharp, and unyielding—bored into her as if he could see through every layer of her carefully constructed mask.

He didn’t speak at first, simply gesturing toward one of the alcoves with a casual authority that left no room for refusal. There was no hesitation, no question in his movements. He knew that she would follow.

For a brief, terrifying moment, Lena felt as though she had been stripped bare before him, her every thought, every secret laid out for him to see. It wasn’t just her body he seemed to study—it was her soul. His gaze made her feel small, vulnerable, as if he could unravel everything she had so carefully hidden beneath the facade of the perfect, obedient woman.

The mask she wore—the one that had protected her for so long—wavered under the intensity of his stare. Fear gripped her chest, twisting in her stomach, but somehow, despite the pressure bearing down on her, she managed to keep her composure. Her expression remained demure, calm, the picture of submission and grace. Inside, though, she was screaming.

With a small, controlled breath, Lena lowered her gaze and stepped toward the alcove, knowing that there was no turning back now.

[IsabellaRose]

Lena followed the Divine Leader into the alcove, her heart pounding in her chest. The thick curtain fell behind them, isolating them from the rest of the room, and the air felt stifling in the confined space. She kept her eyes down, her breath shallow, waiting for him to speak. The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, and though she couldn't see him, she could feel his gaze on her, studying her with the same intensity that had left her feeling exposed moments earlier.

After what felt like an eternity, the Divine Leader finally spoke, his voice smooth, calm, and dangerously controlled.

"You’ve impressed a lot of people tonight, Lena."

The sound of her name on his lips made her flinch inwardly, though she didn’t allow it to show on her face. She kept her hands folded in front of her, her posture perfect, as she had been taught.

"Everyone speaks of your grace, your obedience," he continued, his tone shifting slightly as he moved closer to her. "But I wonder... how much of that is real, and how much is a carefully crafted mask?"

Lena's heart skipped a beat. His words struck too close to home. It was as if he had seen straight through her, right to the core of her doubts and fears. She fought to keep her breathing steady, her expression neutral, even as panic bubbled beneath the surface.

"I am exactly what the cloister has made me," Lena replied softly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "I live to serve."

The Divine Leader chuckled, a low, knowing sound. He moved even closer, his presence overwhelming, and Lena could feel the heat of his body as he stepped into her space. She kept her eyes down, not daring to look up, afraid of what he might see if their gazes met.

"You’re a good liar," he said, his voice almost amused. "But I've been doing this a long time, and I know when someone is hiding something."

Lena’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to remain still, to maintain the mask. She knew what was at stake here. The Divine Leader wasn’t just any man—he was the most powerful figure in the entire state. If he truly suspected that her perfect obedience was a facade, if he believed that she was anything less than the ideal wife he was searching for, her fate would be sealed. There would be no escape, no second chances.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice sharp.

Lena hesitated for only a moment before raising her eyes to meet his. His gaze was piercing, cold and unreadable, and she felt as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice, one wrong step away from falling into the abyss.

"You’ve fooled a lot of people, Lena," the Divine Leader said, his eyes locking onto hers. "But you can’t fool me."

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Lena held his gaze, doing everything she could to keep her expression calm, but inside, the panic was growing. What would he do if he saw through her? If he realized that the obedient, subservient woman standing before him was nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion?

In that moment, Lena knew that everything she had worked for—the mask she had perfected, the life she had tried to build for herself—could come crashing down in an instant. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.