This 8-10 sentence blog hop is hosted by The Weekend Writing Warriors. (Click the link for the list of participants, or rules if you want to join!)
This is from a WIP, with the placeholder name of “Bluebeard,” very loosely based on that fairy tale. Every year on the Winter Solstice, a sorcerer takes a sixteen-year-old girl as his bride, divorcing her and exiling her before he takes a new bride the next year.
Summary: The sorcerer has married the narrator without much interest, spelled them into the tower, told her to make dinner, then join him in her study, where he began an interview where he asked for her skills and goals for the year of marriage.
“What is your name?”
I stared at him for a moment, before recovering myself. “You didn’t need it before, why do you want it now?”
“Are you going to make me hunt it down, you difficult woman?”
“Gwyn,” I said. “My name is Gwyn, sorcerer.”
“I don’t see why you judge, when you clearly don’t know mine.”
“It’s Aamir, but people call you the Mire.” I refrained from commenting on what I had learned about how he’d gained such an inauspicious title.
* * *
This story is very loosely based on Bluebeard. The sorcerer is cursed, and the brides are caught up in the curse, though the nearby villagers don’t know how or why. He keeps the kingdom safe with his magic, and his brides tie him to a land he couldn’t otherwise protect. There are other ways to do this tying–but his curse demands a bride.