nine
Later in the afternoon, when Sulim finished the few chores she had on the otherwise supposed day of rest, she was pulled aside by her mother-in-law, who had a countenance of contemplative consternation.
What now?
She should have known. Sulim had gone too long without entertaining the receiving end of Jacelah’s “concerns” about their roles in the Gardiah family. Her, the constant worrywart who is convinced we’re all going to die at any moment. Sulim, the pretty and helpful disappointment.
“We have been granted an opportunity,” was how Jacelah interrupted herself as she and Sulim sat in the small seating area of the Lord’s suite, “to seek guidance from one of the most illustrious wives in the universe. Why would you besmirch Lady Joiya’s goodwill?”
Sulim's emotions were still tangled within her chest, reaching into every ventricle, every crevice of her heart.
Anger? Not useful. Fear? Too selfish. So she settled on annoyed, because that was how she truly felt as her mother-in-law laid into her about foregoing the most important marital duties of her twenties.
“Last I checked,” Sulim said, tempering her tone, “Lady Joiya has not reached out to me for free counseling. She does not strike me as the type, either.”
“You must seek it out on your own,” her mother-in-law scolded. “Whatever issues you are having with my son, she can help!”
Sulim scoffed, the first sign that this “conversation” was going to hell. Sure enough, Jacelah narrowed her gaze and slowly crossed her arms on her chest.
“We don’t have any issues,” Sulim asserted. “We get along well, if you haven’t noticed.”
Jacelah’s arrogance was not born from narcissism.
Sulim had learned this the hard way over the past three years, from the first time they met—and she looked at me with this critical gaze—to long past the wedding day when the newly-minted mother-in-law looked Sulim up and down and declared, “So, this is how it is.”
Instead, such looks came from the innate anxiety women like Jacelah carried around.
Because, despite their own traumas, each Lady-in-training like her had been given clear rules for their future marriage.
First, they were to be the best in their class when it came to domestic management and refinement among hostesses.
On those ends, Jacelah earned enough gold stars to be lauded on the entire Federation nobility circuit.
Second, she must procreate to the best of her ability.
Jacelah had been open with Sulim about the pressure to bear heirs.
And in a patriarchal structure that heavily preferred sons, meaning Jacelah was pregnant as soon as a doctor signed off on it after Graella was born.
When Sonall was born, Sulim did not doubt that it alleviated much of Jacelah’s anxieties, aside from keeping her children alive and healthy.
As for why she didn’t have a couple more…
That could have rested on Vern as much as Jacelah, since Sulim had never once seen a sign that Vern fancied anyone, let alone his beautiful wife. Once they had a son, that was it.
Well, there was the other son… Sulim knew about that, unfortunately. There isn’t much that I don’t know.
The third and final expectation was to ensure a good marriage for the family’s primary heir. After that, a Lady could expect some light retirement, if she fancied it.
So, here was Sulim, the heir’s wife. Staring down the woman who had made a terrible lapse in judgment and now blamed herself for everything.
“You do not have sex,” Jacelah blurted.
Sulim gasped, although the sound did not leave her head. Instead, it bottled up inside her chest, warring with those emotions that now clamored into her atria with a Warning! Warning! As the blood thundered in her ears and the color drained from her face, Sulim hissed, “We do!”
“Not often.”
Ah, there was the color again. Sulim knew it had appeared because both of her cheeks were hot, and her nostrils flared with every recent memory of her husband touching her. At all!
“Not. Your. Business.”
Sulim had leaned forward to say that, hoping that just for a second, Jacelah would falter.
Instead, she said, “It is my business. My son’s happiness was at the forefront of my mind when I signed off on your fortuitous marriage.”
She chuckled. “Ah, he was so smitten with you. Still is. I see it in the way he looks at you. With yearning and pining, as if you’re still waiting!”
“He just looks like that all the time!”
“Most would kill for a husband who looks at them like that! Don’t you think I know!”
For that brief moment, Sulim saw the truth behind her mother-in-law’s eyes.
She’s jealous. Maybe Jacelah didn’t realize it, but it wasn’t like it was a secret that Vern had the passion of a turnip about to be chopped up for dinner.
How that man produced two emotional children who get caught up in their sentimentality watching Earth broadcasts, I have no idea!
It drove Sulim half-crazy. Give her a husband like Vern any fucking day.
She had half a mind to quip that she and Jacelah trade marriages, just to get a rise out of her. But even at her angriest and most embarrassed, Sulim knew better.
“I’ll have you know that I love your son. I wouldn’t have married him if I didn’t.”
“Which is why I implore you to beseech Lady Joiya’s help. She knows a few things about having a successful marriage.”
Why do I care! No. Sulim couldn’t say that. Instead, she said, “Something tells me that she and I are not exactly in the same situation.”
“Sulim.” Oh, God. Oh, no. Here it came. “I will not rest until I have a grandchild who can carry on this family name long after I’m gone.”
This time, Sulim narrowed her gaze.
“You knew the terms when you married my son.”
“And you knew, through him, that we weren’t going to have children for at least the first two years of our marriage.”
“It’s been two years.”
Sulim chewed the inside of her cheek. Don’t tell her.
Not about the myriad of ways she had assured there would be no surprises these past three years.
All of it was reversible, but Sulim had no intention of going back.
Not as long as I’m sharing a bed with a man.
Sonall knew it, too. That was the secret they shared.
I told him I wouldn’t marry him if I was expected to have his babies.
He told me he would never pressure me to do that. His family, on the other hand…
Well, Jacelah was right about one thing. More than a few women would kill to be in Sulim’s position, warts and all!
“I know you were fairly worldly when you married.” What the hell did that mean! “I looked past that because I knew you were still the type to commit and be monogamous.”
“Yes, not all of us were virgins when we met our husbands.”
Jacelah’s nostrils matched the shape of Sulim’s. “But my son did not have such opportunities. You are the one he knows best.”
“You have no idea how much tail he chased in Yarensport.” Sulim spat that out before she could stop herself. “Legendary. Broke more than a few hearts.”
“Be that as it may…”
“He’s slept with more people than me. Let’s get that straight. So don’t give me this woe-is-Sonall because you think he didn’t get a chance to sleep around, living all the way out here. We were both adults when we got engaged. And, yes, I am monogamous, thank you for noticing!”
“Do not raise your tone to me.”
“I think I have every right to raise my tone to you, Jacelah. Be grateful I’m not swearing like a Qahrainian sailor right now.”
They hit this impasse with more animosity between them.
She started it. Yet Sulim had always known that things would lead here eventually.
As the months and years wore on, more than one person with the last name Gardiah would become antsy over her lack of desire for her husband.
It’s one thing when it’s just him I have to worry about.
Should she tell Sonall that his mother wormed her way into their sex life?
He would die. And probably give her a look that implied he didn’t know what to do about it besides making ludicrous lovemaking sounds when they thought Jacelah might be hovering outside their bedroom door. Why are guys like that?
“Look.” Sulim knew she couldn’t leave this room without offering something to the woman who courted anxiety like a new beau.
“I understand what’s at stake here. I knew when I joined this family that it would rest on my shoulders one day to figure this out. And I will. I promise that there will be someone of this family’s blood to inherit one day. I know how important this is. Just…”
She closed her eyes and sighed, spine straight and shoulders back.
“Let us figure that out. For all you know, we’ll go at it like breeding stock, and nothing will happen.”
“Thank you for the lovely visual, Sulim.”
“You’re the one bringing up how you can tell if we’re doing the deed or not.”
“At any rate,” Jacelah said through gritted teeth. “Think about it.”
Instead of saying what was really on her mind, Sulim sighed again, saying, “I suppose it does not hurt to beseech her counsel on my own thoughts.”
“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”
Sulim couldn’t take it anymore. She saw the opportunity to leave that Void-forsaken room and took it, purposely following the backstairs down toward the kitchen so she could avoid potentially bumping into her husband around their own room down the hallway.
The backstairs also gave her a convenient escape to the back porch, where she sometimes went to contemplate the forest constantly encroaching on that side of the property. Especially on days it rained, like it had started since Lady Joiya’s sermon a few hours ago.
Sulim burst out of the door, letting it slam shut behind her. She inhaled the misty air and instantly regretted not bringing a sweater. She could go back inside for her rain jacket hanging on the tack, but something about the crisp but damp air invigorated her senses.
She smelled smoke. At first, she thought it was from the chimneys somewhere on the property before she realized it carried a heavier undercurrent.
“So much for thinking this was a private place to fret over one’s lot in the universe.”
Sulim spun around. She hadn’t seen Mira standing there. No, leaning. She leaned against the wall, one arm tucked beneath the other as she smoked something from a wooden pipe.
“Ah…” Sulim almost forgot what had upset her so much when she saw that equally serpentine stance in such a simple Temple tunic and trousers. “Nobody hangs around out here.”
“I seem to have a knack for finding your hiding spaces.”
Sulim turned back around, facing the rain. “What are you hiding from?”
“I should be asking you. You seem quite irate.”
“I asked first.”
A chuckle tickled the back of Sulim’s head. “My mother.”
Something about that piqued Sulim’s interest. “Oh? You might be the only person in the universe who tires of her company.”
“You might be surprised. Her mother-in-law isn’t her biggest fan, either.”
“Mothers-in-law are like that.”
“Is that who you’re hiding from?” Mira barely let a pause escape her. “Or your husband?”
Sulim turned toward her again, but Mira had pushed off the wall, slowly approaching the balustrade. The smoke from her pipe curled beneath Sulim’s nose before being whisked in another direction by the moist breeze.
“I’m not hiding,” she said. “Just trying to clear my head.” She turned that head back toward the forest line several yards away.
Mira followed her gaze. “It’s a nice view for clearing one’s head.”
“Sometimes, you can see the wildlife poking out. You know, deer and such.”
“Must be peaceful.”
The tension finally eased from Sulim’s shoulders. “I’m sure it still doesn’t compare to where you’re from.”
Mira shrugged. “Everywhere is different. My mother’s natal estate is gorgeous, though. Right against the big mountain range that cuts the continent in half. We’re on the eastern side, where it’s warmer and drier. Lots of arid plant life and colorful fauna.
I used to love going to the cemetery to look for kidwips.”
When Sulim expressed she didn’t know what those were, Mira explained, “They’re these critters that burrow in the earth and are amphibious in the right environment. Really stupid, though. In Julah, we have an insult that calls someone a kidwip.”
Sulim looked between the misty forest and the beguiling woman standing next to her. “We don’t have views like this or that on Qahrain. It’s entirely flat on most of the continents. Very few tectonic plates to create those kinds of majestic views. Just nothing but flat farmland.”
Mira tapped her pipe against her lips. “And the oceans?”
“The only thing with any beauty. Smells like shit, though.”
Mira grinned. “I’m sure that’s not the only beautiful thing from Qahrain.”
Sulim did a double-take at that, but Mira had already moved on. Is she flirting with me?
“You’re stressed,” Mira said. “I’m not feeling great, either.” She leaned in closer, moving her pipe out of the way so her smoky, warm mouth came dangerously close to Sulim’s ear. “What say we get out of here and find a place to scream into the Void?”
I’m hearing things. Things Sulim wanted to hear, not things that she should be hearing. “Where…” She cleared her throat, pretending that Mira’s presence didn’t rattle her. Those pursed lips. That gently sloping nose. Those slender, deep brown eyes that peered right into her soul.
And the way her hair brushed into her face when the breeze kicked up again…
“Where would we go?”
Mira bit back a smile. “You’re the one who knows all the good hiding places around here.” No, there it was—the kind of grin that once landed a fatal blow to Sulim’s soul. And there I was, on my back… As if she ever truly had any say in the matter. “You lead the way.”
Don’t do it. Don’t take her anywhere.
Sulim washed those thoughts away with the next splatter of rain hitting her cheek with the breeze. “Let me get my coat.”
As she entered the house to grab what was on the nearest tack, Mira said, “Beautiful.”
Dare Sulim believe that was about her?