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Summary
It was Richter's duty to make more Belmonts—stronger Belmonts. His family was quite involved in the process of doing that. He would be marrying, but not for love or anything ridiculous like that.
Which was the crux of his current problem.
Richter is nineteen when he’s told he will marry in less than a month.
Simon breaks the news to him as though he is telling him about the weather.
——
“And now you’re telling me that I have to—,” Annette's breath catches, “That I’m going to be forced to—” she couldn’t even say it. “I did all of this so that I could be free, Cécile.”After all, black or white, women were never truly free, were they? Not fully, anyway.
“Oh, Chéri,” Cécile’s eyes are filled with sympathy, “You mustn’t think of it that way.”
“How else am I supposed to think of it, then?” Annette hisses, “You’re going to marry me off to some white man I don’t even know. A French man, right?” She scoffs, disgusted. “Those people were the ones who enslaved us to begin with!”
“Annette,” Cécile shakes her head, “How do you think freedom is maintained?”
——Annette, Richter, and a marriage of convenience.