LII Girl #2
Raduna clasps a heavy hand on Khay’s shoulder. “Breathe, Khay. They waited ten years. If we rush in without thinking, we won’t save them. They’ll be lost forever. Give us a day or two.”
“That’s two more days of rapes!” Khay’s eyes are frantic, his teeth bared in agitation. “And that child, fuck! You haven’t seen her. She had Tasha’s eyes, do you understand? My sister bore them a child. I have a niece! Maybe more, maybe nephews, and I can’t… What they do to them…”
Khay weeps, falling to his knees, and tears out fistfuls of his hair in agony. Dark blue clumps fall to the floor at his sides, and he howls like an animal pierced with an arrow, his pain the most horrible thing I’ve ever witnessed.
I don’t know what to do. There is nothing in this world that can soothe him, nothing but freeing his family and bringing them home. I weep with him, shaking, and Raduna puts his arm around me while Magnar kneels by Khay’s side.
“We will act as fast as we can,” my husband says, his face drawn and dark, mouth set. “I promise you. We will save them. You have my word.”
I see it in the lines of his body, the heavy slump of his shoulders, his head weighing too much to lift, his loose, empty hands. He’s ridden with guilt, crushed by it, and Khay’s every howl, his every tear, add to Magnar’s burden.
“He shouldn’t act rashly,” I whisper, but the words are hollow. I know there’s no winning with guilt this strong, and Magnar gave his word. He always keeps his word.
“He won’t,” Raduna says, pulling me closer. “I won’t let him.”
I nod, but I don’t think even Raduna can contain Magnar when he’s so driven by Khay’s pain.
I don’t know what to do. I wish I had answers for them, some sort of way to free the women, but it’s useless.
We know too little, and we’re surrounded by enemies.
Not even Magnar’s money, and not the entire yield from his mines, are enough to bargain with stupid men whose pride was slighted.
At least, not yet. Not until everyone’s tempers cool enough to think.
It takes Khay ten minutes to compose himself. He sits numbly on the floor, looking at the hair he’s torn out with dull, thoughtless eyes. Magnar gets up, bids Raduna to watch him, and takes my hand.
“What do I do, Caliane?” he asks in a quiet, restrained voice.
I suck in a breath that cannot quench my guilt and hopelessness, because the only plan I have is weak and leaves agency in the hands of other people. Khay and Magnar will hate it.
“You wait. Until Arvi comes back and we know who the owner is. If they can’t be reasoned with, we should pretend to leave.
Gather everyone, thank Sidonius for his hospitality, inform the kings you won’t share with them.
And ride out. Let the gates close behind you.
Keep going until they send a messenger to bring you back. ”
His eyes are hollow, face devoid of expression.
“What if they don’t? What if we can’t go back ever again? What if they slaughter our women? What if they hang them from the walls to spite me? What if they send out soldiers to kill us all? Caliane, what the fuck have I done, bringing us here? Bringing you? Our baby? What the fuck have I done?”
He turns away, his shoulders shaking, and I press myself to his back, wrapping my arms around him, but it’s no use. He’s shut off, locked in a cage of his guilt and terror, and I have no way to reach him. I physically can’t if he doesn’t help me, and Magnar seems to have forgotten I’m here.
“None of this is going to happen,” I say, hoping against hope he’ll hear me.
“You are the king of Farneer, I am your queen, and the baby is your heir. No ruler of the Eleven will attack us, because they would break the oldest law of the kingdoms. In the Citadel, we are doubly protected by the Kings’ Peace.”
He exhales a long breath, his shoulders slumping, arms loose at his sides. “You’re na?ve, Caliane. Do you really believe those men are all good boys who stick to the laws? They can send an assassin or a band of hired swords and keep their hands clean.”
“Maybe, but that would set up a precedent. They are self-serving cowards. If they justify attacking you, who says they won’t do the same to another king who doesn’t act the way they want him to? Each of them is afraid of the others, and they all rely on that law for protection. They won’t risk it.”
“I’m the Agnidari Tyrant. It would be easy to justify sending assassins to my chamber.”
“You ate with them, you drank with them, you sat at their table. I think they can’t help but think of you as their equal. I hope that’s the case.”
“Hope.”
He takes a deep breath and straightens. When he turns to me, the only sign of his anguish is the weary tilt around his mouth when he smiles.
“I have to think about it. For now, you said we could make them believe we’re not affected. Would you accompany me to the city? We’ll take Raduna and Khay. I want to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t get himself killed.”
I search his face, frowning at his surprisingly quick transformation. Magnar watches me back, kind and inviting, and I frown with suspicion. His smile widens, and he presses his finger to the line between my eyebrows.
“Come on. It’s a sunny day since Raduna’s croaking about bad weather didn’t come true. We should enjoy ourselves while we can.”
I am almost certain he’s deceiving me, only, I don’t know why. Magnar lowers his face to mine, mimicking my expression. Then, faster than I can blink, he lets out his tongue and licks my cheek.
“What!” I gasp. “You licked me!”
“I did. You enjoy me licking you, don’t you, wife?”
My mouth falls open in outrage. “But not on my face!”
He laughs, wiping his saliva off my cheek with his thumb. “Where, then? You have to tell me.”
I shake my head, feeling queasy, confused, too distracted, too tired to think. Magnar presses his forehead to mine, his palm settling on my belly.
“I need a break from this. Please. I want to spend a wonderful day with you. Oh, I know. Let’s pretend it’s our honeymoon already, hm? All troubles are done with, all duties carried out, and all that’s left is you and me, our knights, and a peaceful day together.”
Oh, it’s tempting. Even his words alone make relief pour into my tight chest, my tense muscles uncoiling. I nod hesitantly, and Magnar gives me a brilliant, happy smile.
“Let’s go.”
It’s early afternoon, and the city brims with activity. We walk the streets holding hands, and not only are we not gaped at, people smile at us, women curtsying, men bowing when we pass. I nod back, surprised by that warm treatment.
We go from shop to shop, and Magnar buys me perfumes, an outrageous amount of amber jewelry, a warm shawl when I grow chilly.
When we stumble into a feather fashion shop, I make him and our knights put on colorful hats with large, flamboyant feathers that sway with every movement. Magnar buys those, too.
We get discounts, the sellers happy to serve us. “Anything for Queen Caliane,” a seller of beautiful umbrellas says, adding a beautiful pair of red gloves to our purchase for free.
When I look at Magnar, he shakes his head in bafflement. Arvi stays on to question the seller and comes back, grinning from ear to ear.
“You won’t believe it. Caliane is hailed as the savior of peace in the Citadel! People say she sacrificed herself to marry the Tyrant and stop his march through the Eleven. The war is over thanks to her.”
Magnar laughs under his breath, looking a bit rueful. “Ah, yes, you made an enormous sacrifice. You’re positively a martyr! There is no greater ordeal than being my wife.”
I scoff, shooting him a quelling look. “Oh, stop it. The Citadel has been the seat of the Master of Peace for centuries. People here abhor war and revere peace. I suppose that’s why they see it this way.
I, for one, am happy. Hopefully, this message spreads fast to the kingdoms, and our ride home will be more pleasant. ”
We watch a performance in the main square, men and women wearing skintight suits dancing in a way I’ve never seen before. Their bodies seem to be liquid, stretching inhumanely, and we clap along with everyone else, delighted and awed.
After the sky darkens, we stay to watch fire dancers, who wave around flaming balls on long chains to the rhythm of drums. Magnar holds my hand all the time and laughs a lot. He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him.
Back at our apartment, he pulls me into the bedroom and closes the door. “I want to be alone with you tonight. Please. No feast today. We’ll eat in bed.”
He makes love to me, slow and sweet, and then we eat. Magnar feeds me bites of food with his fingers, watching my face with a dazed, loving smile, and I get lost in the pleasure and luxury of it. Oh, if only every day could be like this.
He fucks me again after we eat, and it’s rougher, almost desperate.
He pulls out multiple times to kiss me, and his breath is hot and frantic, hands roaming me without stopping, as if he tries to memorize every inch of my skin.
I kiss him back fervently, wishing I could say I love him. It would almost not be a lie.
When he makes me come lying on top of him, and my body locks him in, he rolls us to our sides and strokes my hair and back, my buttocks, my arms. When I try to shift away so I can see his face, he presses me to his chest with a growl.
“Stay, love. You have to stay like this. I need you.”
I don’t try to pull away again, and he caresses me with a happy sigh, his voice a low, pleased purr.
“What do you think we should name our baby? Have you thought about it?”
I shiver, tensing with unease I cannot place. “Um, I haven’t. It’s still very early.”
“Mmm. I’ve been thinking. I like Sameel for a boy. It’s an old name, true, quite unfashionable. But it means ‘beloved’. He will have all the love in the world, and I’d like to think he will be a good, just king, cherished by our people.”
I am quiet. There’s a tightness in my chest, sweat on my palms, and I don’t understand why I feel this way.
“I would love to have a son,” Magnar says, voice dropping into a soft whisper.
“But I think I’d love a girl even more. A girl with your eyes, my hair, a vibrant little thing.
I’d love to hear her laugh filling the halls of the keep.
She’d give the knights gray hair, making them run after her or fish her out of ponds.
What do you think? Could you be carrying a girl? ”
I freeze completely. It’s like a carefully built structure in my mind shatters, revealing things I refused to see, things that terrified me so much, I kept them hidden in the dark. They are out, showing me their sharp teeth.
What if it’s a girl? What if I have a daughter? A girl. A girl. A girl.
My child.
What if Magnar hurts her?
I don’t breathe, lost in this horrible, illogical, terrifying revelation. The reason why I can’t love him. Why I keep forgetting I’m pregnant. Why nothing is as it should be.
“Caliane?” he asks. “Are you asleep?”
I force myself to take a deep, even breath and let it out slowly. He hums, taking my silence for confirmation, and I ease in another breath, then another, while I struggle with my fear.
Of course, Magnar won’t do to our daughter what my father did to me. But then—my mother must have thought the same thing. I’m certain it never crossed her mind to suspect my father of such deviance.
Then she was gone, and I had no one to protect me.
What if I am gone? What if Magnar hurts my daughter?
But he won’t, he won’t!
Except, I trusted my father, too. Until his very death, I was convinced I loved him. I tried so hard to grieve him and thought something was wrong with me. I am not a good judge of character. What if I’m wrong about Magnar?
I can’t trust myself, and therefore, I can’t trust him, either.
What if he hurts my daughter?
It’s dark, only a few candles lighting the room. Magnar shifts, bringing me closer, and heaves a deep, heavy sigh.
“Let me sing it to you just once,” he whispers. “Sleep, beloved. Let it come to you in dreams.”
I frown. He seems so sad, and his words sound wrong, like a goodbye.
Magnar begins singing a soft, plaintive song, his voice low, verging on a whisper.
It breaks a few times, turning hoarse. I don’t understand the words.
His back shakes under my arm thrown around him, and he stops, clears his throat, and sings again.
When the last note rings out, he murmurs soothing, comforting words while he pulls out of me. I don’t react, because pretending to be asleep is the only way I know how to cope right now. If I look at his face, I will burst into tears, and I won’t be able to hide it anymore. I don’t know what to do.
Magnar presses his lips to my temple.
“Goodbye, my love.”