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XIV. THE PROTECTION OF A SISTER
IVY Salvatore was no fool. She knew what life would entail for her; being married off, birthing children, and dying early in her life unsatisfied with the little she had done. It was not her destiny, but her reality. A cruel fate deemed her purpose due to the time she was born— women were simply something to be had; a trading piece for men to bargain over and use to strengthen their own name. She knew what was expected of her by her father, but it didn't mean she would simply bend at the knee.
Even at the mere age of nine, Ivy Salvatore was a force to be reckoned with. With a short stature, kind eyes, and a sweet voice, no one expected anything from her except for her to be a dutiful wife and a loving mother; however, they didn't know the girl that lay just beneath the surface.
Sure, she was kind and gentle, but the world she lived in shaped her in ways others didn't grasp at first glance.
They couldn't tell from her innocent aura that she spent her Thursday evenings gambling with grown men in her town, that she spent the early mornings practicing defense or any of the other things that didn't fit the exterior she presented.
Ivy had learned a handful of valuable life lessons, but those that she felt most important were her ability to defend herself and her skills in terms of observation.
Her defense skills came naturally— a skill taught to her by her brothers. Many men felt entitled to a body that is not their own, a soul that is not theirs to take. So, her brothers took it upon themselves to teach her defense mechanisms— anything that would protect her.
Her observation skills came naturally. She had to be aware of her surroundings, particularly in her home.
Her vision was sharp— able to spot something out of the corner of her eye.
She knew how to listen to the sounds around her; trained to listen for the heavy staggered footsteps of her father, the harsh clang of the glass of a bottle against wood, or the cruel blow of skin against skin.
That was how her eyes did not waver from their place by the pond— despite the bright beaming sun glaring down on her, causing a minor squint. The sun glowered against her skin, making the skin warm to the touch and Ivy's brain feel fuzzy.
With the air thick and dense combined with the heat, Ivy could feel the sweat gathering near her hairline, using the back of her hand to brush it off; her eyes still never wandering from the spot beside the pond.
