Thread: Odette (Montresor & sweet.nothings)

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart naught be all else to me, save that thou art - thou my best thought, by day or by night waking or sleeping, thy presence my light. Be thou my wisdom, and thou my true word I ever with thee and thou with me, Lord. Thou my great Father thine own may I be, thou in me dwelling and I one with thee. Riches I heed not, nor vain, empty praise thou mine inheritance, now and always thou and thou only first in my heart, high King of heaven, my treasure thou art. High King of heaven, my victory won, may I reach heavens joys, O bright heavens sun! Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my vision, O Ruler of all. Be Thou My Vision - Audrey Assad Sister Odette sang the song while standing in the middle of her cell. The melodious voice was like a heartfelt prayer. Worship and praise and prayer had always been at the core of her religion, and singing a song was no less of an offering to God. Although having sung hundreds of songs millions of times, this had been the first time Odette had found her spirit within these walls to do so. Her personal prayers were lacking direction. It wasn't to say that she didn't pray for the pious servants and slaves who had been visiting her lately, or pray for Rogier, or for Antoine, or for the hungry and homeless and everything else under the sun that needed to be held up before the Lord. But personally, Odette was struggling with her relationship with God right now, and she just didn't know how to pray for this. She knew God wanted her here because she could see Him working through her. But Odette was facing some challenging circumstances that were testing her own understanding and strength in faith. Instead of stumbling around words in a prayer that felt cluttered, the next best thing to do was to just sing. And so Odette sang, letting the words of the song become her own prayer as they fell from her heart. Rogier's intended purpose for her had been a bit mysterious at first. His elaborate words You will be as my chattel low as a dog fed on table scraps, and willing as a newly wed wife wouldn't stop running over her mind. They made her sick when she first heard them, and they still did. Through the weeks it became clearer, though. The mystery had fallen off and she had come to realize there was no mystery at all to his spoken promise. Rogier Montressor had meant every single word exactly as it stood, literally. She was to take Antoine's place, so she assumed she would now be his prisoner for that had been what Antoine was to Rogier's claim, and Odette had agreed for life . But somehow she had a feeling her state of imprisonment would be vastly different than what the Winemaker endured. Given Rogier's twisted interests and all the perverse sin happening within his realm, Odette feared that she was entering into one of Dante's seven layers of Hell. Earlier in the day she had been washed and groomed and prepped, and all of this effort towards the presentation of her body only validated that Rogier had plans for her flesh. It made the song she sang carry even more weight for Odette. She tried to drown her anxiety away with it, because truth be told, she felt like she would break apart into a million pieces today. If it went as far as loosing her virginity it would set her back in purity. she had never imagined these circumstances would befall her journey. She had dressed herself back into her nun's habit, and prayed that the robe would keep her from falling apart. The woman was least concerned about Rogier's preference. The Marquee had acquired a nun, and a nun was what he was going to get. The days leading up to this event had been spent with her Bible and a needle and thread. The abbess had managed to mend her habit to the best of her ability. She was certainly a better singer than she was a seamstress, but the task had been done with moderate skill and exceptional care. She even had the favor from a servant girl who washed the garment several times with lye soap and water to get as much of the blood stain out as possible. The ensemble was nearly complete if it weren't for her confiscated rosary and cross, which she dearly missed. Sister Odette sang and prayed until the sun went down right up to the moment she was retrieved by a guard to be taken to the Marquee. Rogier had allowed her to witness the release of Antoine earlier this morning, no doubt to leave no question within her mind that he had followed through with his end. From the distance where she was permitted to stand, privately in the shadow of a corridor, she could see the swell in the belly of the Winemaker's wife. At least , Odette had thought, the woman wouldn't have to care for the baby alone. It was Rogier's, of course. It was a shame really, that this nightmare was far from over for them. They would be reminded of Rogier when they looked into the baby's eyes, and one would wonder if Antoine and his wife would keep the little curse or do away with it. None of this was right. Antoine had been a prisoner wrongfully sentenced...and so would Odette inherit that fact. Her stomache was in knots by the time she had reached his bedchamber. She paused only far enough into the room so that the Guard could depart and close the door behind. It was nerve-wrecking to lay eyes upon Rogier again, but she did so with resolution. The sister politely waited for him to break the silence first. By now the young lord's question didn't surprise the Abbess any at all for she had observed how the boy entertained a philosophers mind. Colossians 322 had been brought up several times over the past few weeks with the servants and slaves who sought her cell, so the verse was quite fresh in her mind already. Colossians 322, slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything and do it, not only when their eye is on you and to curry their favor, but with sincerity of heart and reverence for the LORD. Odette recited the verse without fault under the guise of a steady voice. It was the best way to urge her courage up out of her churning gut. She then took a deep breath and answered him, resting her hands at her sides, There are no riddles in God's Book, only parables. It means exactly what it says, lord Montressor. But I'd like to make clear my understanding, that I am a prisoner , not a slave. And with that, I am a prisoner being wrongfully held under barbaric reasons, for that was Antoine's cup which I do now take up. Would you agree, or am I to be corrected? But either way it stands, she continued, desiring to add. I'd like for you to know that I am nothing but a servant at heart, and for the sake of my heavenly Father I intend on obeying you in sincerity, with as much subservience as possible. I do not know why you bartered Antoine for me, but I will uphold the generosity with a slave's heart.