"So... you're going to do it to the letter tonight, right? The full, correct maintenance process?" Marcus asked.
"Yes," Candy replied, flatly.
"No eye rolls. No tone."
"I said yes, Marcus. Sheesh." She folded her arms. "But maybe stop patting your lap. I know where you want me. It's just the frosting on the humiliation cake."
"Sorry. It's for clarity. Sometimes it's the bench..." he stopped, seeing the look on her face. “Right, you get context. Never mind. You ready?"
"Just... give me a minute," she muttered. "I'll nod when I'm ready. I need to get in the right space."
She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. It wasn’t the spanking that got to her; she’d learned to suffer through that. No, the real humiliation was the ritual. The positioning. The thank-you. The sir. The sickening sweet tone she was forced to respond in. When she was allowed to pass just barely, to roll her eyes, express sarcasm, maybe make a joke, well, that gave her back some power but this? This was going to suck.
While Candy prepared herself mentally, Marcus thought back to what had brought them here. It had started during the regular check-in from Mrs. Prim and Sergeant Strapforth. Candy had been getting them too many fines. They had gotten a stern chastisement from Mrs. Prim and the Sergeant. If this kept up, they'd be looking at increasing corrective measures. Not to mention Marcus' bank account was taking a serious hit.
"You're already over your limit for this week," Mrs. Prim pointed out. "If you don't bring the numbers down by the end of the week, it's another fine."
"Well, how do I do that?" Marcus asked. Candy stood next to him, eyes cast down, hands folded, putting on her best "good girl" act for the two reviewers.
"You could give her extra chores," Mrs. Prim suggested. "Additional corrections. But a big one is to earn new affirmation pins or behavior ribbons. Where is your ribbon rack and pin board?"
Candy and Marcus exchanged a glance.
"Uh," Marcus said, rubbing the back of his head. "I've heard of them. We see the ribbons and pin sashes on women out and about..."
The Sergeant frowned. "You don't have her pin board up yet? Mr. Elwood, you must reinforce her good behavior with the visual of her success."
"Well," Marcus responded, hesitantly, "the thing is, she, uh... hasn't gotten any yet."
There was a pause. Mrs. Prim sighed. The Sergeant raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve been married for 3 months,” Sergeant Strapforth said, almost in disbelief.
“Yes, well…” Marcus trailed off, rubbing his shoulder and looking down awkwardly.
“Have you at least logged the affirmations she’s received?” the sergeant asked.
“Uh… I didn’t realize I was supposed to,” Marcus admitted.
Mrs. Prim, sighed again, and reached into her satchel, pulled out a pamphlet and handed it to Marcus. "Start there. Beginner sashes, ribbons and pins. We’ll have the full almanac sent next week. And be sure to tune her compliance crystal to record for them."
They left, bewildered.
"Great," Candy muttered. "Another gods-damn pamphlet."
Marcus flipped through it later that night. A few in and he stopped. He re-read it, then looked up and grinned from ear to ear. "Oh... oh, this will be perfect. 'To the Letter.'"
He had begged her that day. "You heard Mrs. Prim. We're over our sass quota. If we don't bring it down, it's another fine. Or worse."
She'd agreed. Begrudgingly. She’d do the maintenance spanking to the letter. And if she did…
Marcus’ thoughts were interrupted when Candy looked up and nodded. He resisted the urge to pat his lap.
"All right, Candy. It's time for maintenance. Over my lap, please."
“Yes sir,” she answered. moving stiffly into position. He lifted her dress and rested a hand on her back. Raised his other hand, then SMACK.
"One, sir," she said through gritted teeth. She kept the perfect poise, hands on the ground, back at the correct angle.
"Two, sir."
"Three, sir..."
When they reached ten, he paused. "You okay?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you for asking."
When it ended, she stood and adjusted her dress.
"Thank you for maintaining me, sir," she said. With just enough sincerity. Her wrist gem chimed. A warm lavender glow.
"Is it over, sir?"
"Yes. It's been logged."
"Thank the gods," Candy yelled. "That was so fff—reaking hard."
"Hey," Marcus warned with a smile. "You got the maintenance credit. Let's not blow it on tone."
She flopped onto the couch. "I’m gonna need chocolate. Or a medal. Or a week off."
"I can get you two out of three."
The sash arrived the next morning. Paddlewick moved fast on some things.
"You're wearing it to dinner," Marcus said, buttoning her coat. "It's your first Cherry Dot. That means something."
"It means I counted to twenty without swearing. Barely."
"And said 'thank you for maintaining me' without muttering."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're treating me like a woman again. We talked about that."
"I know. Sorry, I, it’s just... this is a big deal. If you get compliments, it improves your stats. Might help in the future."
She groaned. "Fine. I’ll wear it. Once."
The sash had a crimson strip, standard for first-time awards. Most wives stopped wearing the Cherry Dot after a few months. It was too basic, too easy, but as they walked to the restaurant, older women kept stopping them.
"Your first one? Good for you honey!”
"You must be so proud. He must be, too."
She rolled her eyes.
The restaurant was upscale, by Paddlewick terms; white linen, enchanted candles, five types of bread, three meats, and some vegetables. Marcus had made reservations two weeks ago, and, it was Wife Recognition day. They'd barely sat when a man approached.
"Marcus Elwood! Councilor Brentwell, Office of Fiscal Harmonization."
Marcus stood. "Of course, good to see you."
Brentwell turned to Candy. "Oh my, a Cherry Dot? Well done, Mrs. Elwood! No stammers or miscounts?"
Marcus beamed. "Clear as a bell. Didn’t even pause at thirteen."
"Thirteen's where most new wives falter. Superstition hiccup. Excellent form."
Candy smiled thinly. "I practiced breathing."
"Good for you, sweetie”, the Ministry noticed. “Cheers to poise under pressure!"
As Brentwell left, Marcus whispered, "You did falter at thirteen."
"I covered it with a cough. I’m not proud of it. Well, proud it worked."
Candy was quiet through the meal. Marcus kept glancing at the ribbon. He's treating me too much like a real wife, she thought. It curled uneasily in her stomach. Then dessert arrived. Two plates of cherry mousse, candied almond crisps, a tiny Ministry flag in the whipped cream.
"Compliments of the house," said the server. "Cherry Dot holders get free cake on dessert night. Including spouses."
Marcus lit up. "I’ve been waiting days for this."
Candy blinked. "Marcus. Did you know this came with a Cherry Dot?"
He didn’t even pretend. "Yes. It was in the pamphlet. Also, 30% off the bill. This is the most expensive restaurant in the capital. it’s a great deal Candy!"
Candy stared. "So, you pushed me to do the damn maintenance properly. Paraded me around like some award-winning lapdog in lipstick. Treated me like a wife in front of clients. All to get FREE DESSERT?"
"And 30% off."
She stared at her spoon. Relieved or furious? Both. Marcus saw the look on her face.
“Ok, look, we had to get the metrics down, and all of that helped. But we already had reservations here and this, this was the desert, figuratively and literally! Look, you'll be less mad after dessert," he said.
“It would have to be a pretty damn good dessert Marcus.” She took a bite. Considered it for a moment, then said "You got lucky.”.
He smiled. “Cherry Dot lucky.”
On the way home, he ribbed her a bit.
“Say it, come on. Admit it was a good idea.”
“Fine,” she acknowledged. “It brought the numbers down and got a tasty treat. You’re good with money and food. You happy?”
“Very!” he beamed.
"Just, next time, let me in on the plan a little earlier, will you?" she asked.
"Yeah, sorry. I got carried away. Will do."
When they got home, Marcus slowly prepared his bath as Candy sorted the mail.
“Fine. Fine. Advertisement. Fine… and, huh?” She opened one envelope from the National Guard Registry.
“Marcus,” she called. “You got a deferment for National Guard duty. Why?”
“Oh,” he said, poking his head back into the kitchen, towel around his shoulders, “we aren’t ready. You’re still settling. There’s too much to figure out.”
“Don’t do that for me,” she responded. “I’ll be fine on my own for two weeks.”
“Uh, Candy, I don’t think you understand. Women can’t be on their own here for more than six days. I’d have to find you a male guardian. Right now, the default would be my dad.”
She froze.
“Wait. You mean… he’d be the one doing the maintenance? And if I messed up…”
“Yeah. Any correction, too.”
Candy shuddered. “Ew,” she said. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Gods damn this kingdom sucks. Fine. Good call. We’ll wait… oh.”
“What?” Marcus asked. “What is… oh.”
She held up a different envelope.
It was from the Ministry of Domestic Reclassification and Integration, MDRI. They were the ones responsible for covering Cameron’s disappearance… and Candy’s sudden appearance. Candy knew they’d be in touch eventually. But it had been so long, she’d almost forgotten. She hadn’t expected it to feel like this. Cold ink. Official seal. Tidy lies, probably. They must have finally decided how to handle her. And Cameron.
This was going to be… notable.