Salome had little desire for a husband . Occasionally she thought being mistress
of her own household and running things as she wished , rather than having to submit to
Mother all the time , would be enjoyable . Children … well , she wouldn ’ t mind them . But a
husband ! Someone who would rule her , body and soul , taking over where God left off ?
Not to mention what everyone referred to as the Marriage Bed , where the vile
unspeakable acts Mother always warned against would take place . No , Salome wanted
none of that .
‘ Don ’ t talk such nonsense , girl ,’ Mother said impatiently when Salome dared to
voice her objections one time . ‘ It ’ s not a sin if you are married .’
‘ I don ’ t see why not ,’ Salome said querulously , and was told to hush .
She hushed , but when she was sixteen , she found her voice again . For her mother
came to her chambers and told her she was to dance at the celebration her stepfather
had planned for the evening .
‘ You forbade it ,’ Salome said , her voice as flat as the sea of Galilee on a windless
day . ‘ I am never to dance again . Never to make a little slut of myself again . I cannot
dance .’