Within the Cleaved Knot Legal Services, sitting at the kitchen table while Lydia effortlessly creates dinner.
Bethel softly bangs her forehead against the solid oak table. Replaying every word she used towards her almost first client.
She could see the young woman's frail frame, her wide, terrified eyes, the barely-there whisper of her voice.
She remembered her own careful, composed words, the perfectly logical and utterly heartless explanation of public scrutiny. She had used the language of the law to a woman who spoke the language of fear, and in doing so, had chased her away.
"You're going to give yourself a headache, Bethel," Lydia said, her voice soft but firm, as she approached the table with a clean cloth. "Supper's almost ready. Best to eat before it gets cold."
Bethel lifted her head, the imprint of the woodgrain a faint line across her forehead. Her eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were filled with a weary self-loathing.
"I pushed her away, Lydia. I saw a woman standing on the edge of a cliff, and instead of offering a hand, I rattled the loose stones at her feet."
Lydia knelt beside the table, gently dabbing the cloth against Bethel's forehead. "No, you didn't, my lady. You were honest. Her fear pushed her away. You just showed her what she was already afraid of."
To be honest, Bethel tried to explain what would or will happen during the process. It made sense, but looking back, she notice her words may had come off a bit brutal. Especially directed towards someone who lived their life quietly...
"Bethel... since you were a little girl, you hardly had to hold back your words. Your siblings made it easier for you to speck your mind without restriction. You didn't mince words towards people older than you for one second." Lydia set down two sets of cutlery.
"Other lawyers these days are more concerned about two things. Their ability to leech their clients, and their public image. My lady, you don't have anything, much like a blank chalkboard. What you put out will stand out enough for others to know the name Bethel Green"
A steaming plate of food was place before her. It's scent would leave a stuffed man salivating for a spoon full. In Bethel case, quietly pushing it around after taking a few bites. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy Lydia cooking, Bethel even found they tasted wonderfully better then highly acclaimed restaurants.
Josephine situation occupied her thoughts, the sight of those bruised wrists. Bethel never experienced what Josephine is going though... she glanced down at her own wrists. Finding the stalling difference between them, comparing them in her mind.
"Lydia... how long does a bruise take to recover?" Bethel asked, the question hanging in the quiet air.
Lydia stopped eating, a spoon clutched in her hand. Her gaze softened as she looked at Bethel. "It depends on the bruise, my lady. A minor one? A week, maybe less. A bad one, a week to turn yellow, and two or three more to fade completely." She paused, her voice dropping lower. "But those marks you mentioned... those were old, Bethel. Weeks old, and new ones layered on top. They don't have a chance to recover."
Bethel looked down at her plate, her appetite completely gone. The thought of Josephine walking around with those hidden marks for weeks on end, a constant, silent testament to her pain, made her blood run cold.
"So, waiting for her to come back was never an option," Bethel said, her voice a low murmur. "She won't come back."
Lydia nodded slowly. Taking a careful glance at Bethel, practically hearing the sounds of scratching on parchment In her lady head. The repeated process of balling up ink stained parchment of a failed idea before making up a new one.
Smiling, 'My lady isn't the type to give up and wait for the next one... at least she is determined.'
Bethel pushed away her plate, "I'm going back to my office, there's much to do"
Picking up the half finished meal, Lydia nods, sensing it was going to be a long night. "I will leave a sandwich and a pitcher of water on the table. I expect the sandwich to be eaten and not left to waste. Much like this meal"
No matter what Bethel prioritize, for Lydia, the well being of her lady health stands above all else. Feeling Lydia stabbing gaze, having momentarily forgotten the dinner rules her maid lay down.
'To not leave behind leftover food'
Sitting back down, just to appraise Lydia wrath. Consuming the last spoonfuls while gulping down water to ease it in. Bethel was once again reminded the importance of Lydia care. Never take it for granted...
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Late into the night, there wasn't a surface in Bethel's office that didn't have an open book or pieces of parchment on it. She paced the room, combing through volumes of Criminal Law and Family Law, her mind a frantic machine fueled by a cold, righteous anger.
She slammed Vol. 4 of Family Law shut with a frustrated sigh.
"No, not this one either!" she muttered. "What type of kingdom doesn't implicate a law for domestic abuse!"
She tossed the book back on her desk and snatched up the Church Matrimony Laws. Reading a few pages was infuriating, no different from the others. The entire section on opposite-sex marriage was so antiquated and biased, it took every ounce of her will not to use the book as a weapon.
Reading a page out loud, trying to hear if it sounds better then in her head.
"Within a marriage, the head of the family (husband), is entitl-!" Bethel couldn't finish those words without trying to bite her own tongue off. She pushed onwards, needing to finish what she started...
"Entitled in deciding what goes on between him and his spouse (wife). Any discord that arises are to be handled by the family head (husband) as their word is binding. If an issues gets out of hand, a priest can conduct a wellness visit."
Taking a deep breath as she continues. "Where the family head (husband) will pay a small fine for any disturbance his spouse (wife) has created. In the form of a donation, the priest will conduct a prayer service. Believing their Goddess will lead the spouse (wife) back onto the right path."
Bethel grip as she holds the book increase, wishing it was the neck of whoever allowed such law to exist. As this was just one of the many similar laws within it.
'Just breath, Bethel, you already knew what you were getting into by coming to this kingdom...' trying to calm herself down. The people of this nation were already aware of what they agreed too when it comes to marriage. Even the Royal legal exam didn't include these laws as they were seen unnecessary to the kingdom development.
In most cases, they were able to treat each other with respect. This allowed them to passed down knowledge of what a marriage should be like to their children. Of course not every relationship will follow those examples. Some will turned out for the best while others for the worst. Josephine marriage is a type of example where many try to keep secret behind closed doors. Labeling it as 'Family Matters' a clear cut way in telling people to not stick their nose where it doesn't belong.
Knocking off another book left on her chair, sinking into its cushions. "Ah... just like I thought... there's only two ways out of this situation. The death of a spouse or creating a spectacle in the courtroom" While gazing at the amount of clean up before her.
She wanted to at least be able to help Josephine in her predicament. Running away wasn't an option she can even fiddle with. Coming to the capital reveal why that was very quickly.
Three years ago, Bethel and Lydia were lead here by Elara. Having helped them out of Port Sterling after things went from bad to dreadful. While seating in a carriage, waiting to be allowed entry. During an examination of a transport carriage leaving the capital beside them. A woman was being pulled out, screaming to be let go as guards handled her in place.
"LET ME GO! YOU HAVE THE WRONG PERSON!" Trying to get out of the two guards restraints while frantically kicking the third guard in his face.
This resulted in angering the third guard into slapping her, repeatedly.. Her desperate pleas were silenced with each blow. Bethel, sitting beside Lydia, remained impassive, her gaze fixed on the scene but her expression unreadable.
"What is happening?" Lydia asked, her voice tight with a mixture of horror and outrage. Bethel didn't look at her, her eyes still on the screaming woman being dragged away.
"She's a runaway wife," Elara said flatly, her tone devoid of pity. "Her husband reported her to the city guards. She'll be returned to him and the next time, she won't even make it this far."
A chilling finality hung in the air with Elara's words. Lydia's eyes widened. "They can do that? They just... return her?"
"They can and they will," Elara replied, turning to face Bethel. "I may not know where in the world, both of you came from."
"The laws here are cut and dry, much thanks to the nobles and church. A spouse is the property of their marriage partner. She cannot leave without his permission or the threat of her life. Anything less is considered abandonment, a crime punishable by being returned and a heavy fine levied against her family."
The carriage lurched forward, and the scene was left behind, but the image of the woman's terrified, bruised face was burned into Bethel's mind.
Bethel sat up in her chair, the memory a fresh wound. She understood, why Josephine had been so afraid. The legal system was not a safety net; it was a cage with doors that only opened for the powerful. Fleeing was a temporary escape, a moment of freedom before the inevitable, brutal recapture.
But when did that stopped me? Sitting straight as she pulls out another parchment. I'm not the same woman, spectating from a carriage. I even discarded my birth name to make it here.
Writing down what could happen between now until standing before the three judges. Possibility of Josephine husband breaking in during the night. Chance of the church getting involved, publications getting wind of it.
It's like my brother Warren told me... If I want to make a change, pull out a sledgehammer. Being delicate with a fragile situation isn't going to save anyone.