Maybe that all was just a dream. That’s all I could think of it, not when Nate was right across from me. I figured he thought me prudish living with him but not wanting him to see me naked. The scars were too large to fully hide, the fact I wasn’t normal was something I was terrified of him finding out. We built the trust I needed to tell him over the years we’d been together.

He was respectful, hands folded on the table while he waited for me to speak. It took me awhile to form my thoughts, even though I had been practicing how to say it to him for what felt like months. The minute it was to be discussed, my mind couldn’t remember how it was I wanted to start. How was it the doctor explained it to me when I hit puberty? When the things we’d discussed in health class that were supposed to be separate happened to me. Remembering it, their words had been too simple, maybe simple was better.

Simple wasn’t what came out of my mouth. He stared at me, fist covering his mouth. I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. He said he needed a moment, I told him I understood. He left, the last I ever saw of him. If the roles had been reversed, I couldn’t say I wouldn’t act the same way.

A comb pulling at a knot in my hair pulled me out of the haze, out of the real dream. It was a little room, a curtain pulled closed in the doorway making it feel smaller than it was. There was a small window carved in the stone, too high for me to reach on the bed I sat on. It didn’t matter anyways, my small frame would never fit through it anyway. The walls were painted with gold letters, geometric shapes that felt very calming. I was coming back to myself.

The comb tugged at my hair again, and I turned my head. I glimpsed the woman with the odd colored hair that Noa had kissed before she set my head back. “Don’t move, ‘ioia,” her voice was like silky chocolate. “You have such soft hair, but it’s a tangled mess.”

“I’m…where?” I wasn’t slurring my words anymore, that didn’t mean speaking still came easy to me. “Who…?”

Her fingers ran through my hair, long nails scratching at my head in such a relaxing way. “Relax, ‘ioia,” her hands massaged around my skull, “let Atu’e take care of you.” She finished combing the knots out of my hair, resuming her massage on my head and neck. “There,” she smoothed down my hair. “Let’s get you all prettied up. You’ll need to redeem yourself to the rest of the harem.” She got out of bed, studying me. She twirled a strand of curly blue-green hair around a finger, blue cat tail swishing back and forth in thought. “Yes, yes, he really does have a great eye.” Atu’e shoved a finger in my face when I tried to speak.

She dressed me in silk cloth, layers upon layers of airy silk. Blues, reds, gold and purples all coming together in one regal outfit. I felt like a princess; I slapped my cheeks at that thought. She pulled as much of my short hair back as possible, then draped me in jeweled necklaces, bracelets, and rings. She dusted something over my lips and eyelids before taking a step back to admire her handiwork.

She led me by the hand, still a little unsteady on my feet, past the curtained doorway. It was few women at first, them circling me like sharks in a flurry of ears, tails, and color. “Malawashi?” A few breathed. They pulled me into hugs, tears streaming their cheeks. “Oh, Malawashi…Praise Kišwa,” one held me for a long time, “I knew you’d come back to us.”

The excitement died down with the entrance of a tall woman, black hair tied up in an intricate braided bun. She exuded an air of importance, her sandaled feet seemed to float off the ground as she walked. “Are you all ignorant,” her pale yellow eyes scanned each woman, “or just dumb?” Her eyes landed on me, and I shrunk under her assessment. “Malawashi is gone,” she pointed a manicured nail at me, “and you will never replace her.” Nobody moved as she took my chin between her thumb and forefinger. She sniffed me just like Noa had, her face crinkling. She recoiled, “What is an intact male doing here?” She wiped her hand on her skirt, disgusted.

“Aya,” Atu’e spoke from behind me. “If this is male, then,” she leaned over me, her hands pushing up my excuse for a bosom, “why does she have these?”

“Strip it then!” Aya started to regain her composure. “You’ll see, Atu’e, my nose has never led me wrong.” She readjusted the bracelets and bangles on her arms. “And if I am wrong, then let this be a lesson for it to learn its place.”

No one listened to my protests, undressing me as if I were a store mannequin. I stood in the center of their circle, face in my hands in shame as they all eyed. I had the curves and softness of a woman, breasts that had never been all that to look at. Before I had made the decision to remove them, to mar my skin with scars, I wore bras slightly larger than training bras. I could feel their eyes move down my body, past my stomach where a large, fading scar had been just the night prior. They stopped at my pelvis, at the only part of me decidedly male. My embarrassment only skyrocketed when I felt something drip down my leg.

I heard a thump and picked my head up just enough to see a woman on the floor. A few women and a man tended to her while the rest looked on in disbelief and shock. “It-It…Kišwa,” Aya said. “You’ve been cursed just like her.” She made a hand movement over her torso, two fingers dragging an invisible thread between her breasts and down her stomach. “I want you out. Giju,” a man appeared next to her, “tell my husband I want the mongrel out.”

Atu’e took me back to the little room, dressing me again. She had wiped the blood from my thigh, folding the cloth between my legs, telling me everything would work out whether engaged or married, Noa had always made sure his women were taken care of. She sat with me while I wallowed in pain and self-pity waiting for Noa. I couldn’t do the cramps anymore, it didn’t matter to me if that was the only way I could have children. I had the choice when I hit puberty, and the crippling pain made it clear which path was correct for me. It pained my mother that she wouldn’t have natural grandchildren, but my parents had put my wellbeing foremost.

Atu’e lit an incense stick to put my focus on something other than the pain. It smelled like a flower garden, and while it was relaxing, it didn’t do much to ease my mind. My arms didn’t move from their position wrapped around my middle; she stroked my hair, and I asked her who Malawashi was. She told me not to worry about her and to try to relax while we waited for word from Noa.

There was a small commotion outside the curtain after some time. Eventually, it made its way to us, the curtain being pulled back to let our patriarch enter. He was fully dressed now, layers of muted silk lying across his body. He looked at me, clearly in pain, and only glanced at Atu’e. He knelt by the bed, ears almost flag against his head, listening to her explain the actions that led up to this point.

He stood, picking me to protests from Atu’e that he would get blood on his clothes. “A little blood is nothing,” he said. “I will be taking Sae and reassigning a few eunuchs.” He readjusted me in his grip, “Let the others know, especially Aya, that this kind of behavior will get you sold off.” It was so selfish listening to her ask if her position as a wife was still guaranteed, seeing as she was on my side. “Atu’e, you are too kind for your own good.” He kissed her before leaving, a different pain overtaking my cramps.

Some of the wives gave me dirty looks, jealously clear on their faces that Noa was showing me preferential treatment. The most obvious being Aya, whatever had happened between them had jaded her entire existence. He barked orders at two men, Nu’ibi and Kaibi, the two of them leaving to the dismay of a few of the harem. Before we left, he singled out Aya in front of the all the women, telling her, “Find a different way to get my attention.” If I wasn’t too focused on my own pain, I would’ve stuck my tongue out at her. I had all the attention she so desperately craved.

I rested my head on his shoulder as we walked. He smelled like lavender and mint, something so comforting about that smell. It hadn’t even been a day, or maybe it had, and the poison made me sleep for longer than I thought, either way everything seemed to drag on. Too many things happening at once, and not even a second to let it sink in. I breathed in his scent, tears welling at my eyes as I remembered why I felt solace in it.

Nate had always smelled like it. All the times he had held me came back in one rushing wave. I would never be able to feel his arms around me again, never be able to see him smile, see his face crinkle in worry. All because we had trusted each other, and I opened my stupid mouth. I should’ve known he’d react like that, everyone always did when I told them. I kept telling myself that this one would be different. I rubbed my eyes, my hands coming back wet, not aware I had even started crying. Maybe it would’ve been different if I had decided to caste away my masculinity. At least then, I might’ve been able to guilt one man into staying through a kid.

Noa’s chest rumbled with his deep voice, bringing me back to lavish hallways and jingling bracelets. “We’re almost there, ‘ai’ata,” he said, his voice soft. “Is the pain too much? I can—”

“It’s not that,” I said, wanting to burrow myself in his scent. “Well…it’s not only that.”

He was silent for a while, face filled with quiet contemplation. He didn’t speak until we entered a room, setting me on a plush bed.  “If it’s something I can help alleviate from you, then please tell me.” He undid my hair, fingers lingering.

I made him stay with me. I wanted him to unknowingly fulfill Nate’s role for my own benefit. I curled up on my side, head resting against his soft tail with a hot waterskin against my stomach. Noa took his work in the bedroom, sending Nu’ibi to postpone any unimportant meetings, leaving Kaibi to fit the doorframe with a curtain. The smell of mossy incense filled the air, mixing with Noa’s scent before gently being carried by the breeze out of the room.

I buried my face into his tail. “I hate my body.” I hoped he hadn’t heard my mutterings, but he had, asking if this was due to Aya’s actions. “No,” I pressed the waterskin deeper into my stomach, “I’ve always hated it. And…everyone I’ve ever told act like Aya.” Nate’s face as he walked out, his note came back to me. “Even if they don’t say it…I know they think of me as a freak.”

I could imagine his ear twitching. “The Yu’ottu Empire may have one national religious doctrine, but” the weight of that “but” laid heavy on me, “past the Gnaou’i Mountains, there are those who still believe in the old gods.” I heard his parchment crinkle. “They don’t see ‘male’ and ‘female’ with quite a distinction as we do, as Aya does. You would be considered the ultimate blessing, Washi’imu reborn.” I removed my face from his tail, only to find he was looking at me, ears back against his head. “I have ninety-nine wives, ‘ai’ata, and not a single son. I have lain with men in my youth, and women in adulthood.” His ears popped up. “I do not care what my wives look like, in which colors or manners of dress they don. If you can bear my children, ‘ai’ata, I will keep you safe.” He placed a hand in my hair, “And if that child is a son, I will give you the world.”