Anastasia

I’m an artist, but no one knows it. I have a personality, but no one knows it. I make choices, I think, I breathe, but I may as well not. I don’t matter. I’m not my own person. I belong to my father, and, soon, I will belong to my husband.

My brother, Damianus, sells my art and pretends it's his. It’s the only way it can be done.

And now my father says it’s time to marry. I will be someone else’s property now.

Damianus married Constantina three years ago. She is my best friend now. She swears she’s happy and that my brother is kind to her. Damianus has always been kind to me, but I’m his sister. And even so, it means nothing. Just because he is good to her, doesn’t mean my husband will be to me.

He might not love me. He might not even like me. And I have no say in our relationship. I belong to the men in my life and that’s it.

I haven’t yet met the man, but my father tells me his name is Leontius. He sent me a silk gown yesterday. It’s beautiful and my favorite color. Still, it means nothing.

I’ve been having dreams of men that I love. It sounds silly, but in the dreams, I do always love them, and I know they love me. Perhaps the gods are showing me what I should expect. I can’t see the men’s faces from my dreams, but each night there is a new one and I’m full of love and happiness. I wake up and I’m one day closer to marrying a stranger.

I can hold out hope that Leontius will be good to me, but I have to accept that I will never be free. Maybe

I will be lucky like Constantina. Maybe I will be very lucky like the mystery women from my dreams.