Everything would be fine, I kept telling myself, while I knew it very much wouldn’t be. Time flowed ever so slowly, my hands shaking ever so fast. I didn’t want his kid, but I didn’t hand a choice in the matter. If we were going to do it, I’d rather get it over with. At least, that’s what I had thought until Noa walked in smelling of mint and lavender, and something else sweet. I pretended to be asleep at first, hoping he had the decency to let me sleep.

He had laid down unbearably close to me, kissing the back of my head, the back of my neck. His hand slid my skirts up my legs. “Don’t you dare!” I got out of bed before he could grab me, pushing the fabric back down. “Really? You’d…You’d—I was sleeping!” I crossed my arms to hide the tremble in my hands.

Noa propped himself up with his arm, hair messier than I had ever seen it. “You have no right to refuse me, Sae, vii’ta.” He eyed me, more a wolf watching a lamb than human. “Are you scared?” I was scared, there was no doubt in my mind about that, but I didn’t want him to know. His ear twitched, he moved to sit at the side of the bed. “It’s alright to be afraid,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t want the eunuchs to hear. “The anatomy of those in Ny’yom’a is quite different from those in the proper Empire. I won’t let it hurt.”

I took a step back as he stretched out a hand. “What…do you mean by that?”

I felt cornered as he stood, unable to move even through the large gap that separated us. “You’ll have to find out.” He continued stalking towards me, my back against the wall. He nuzzled against my cheek, acting more and more like a wolf. He placed his hands squarely on my hips, hips I now hated. “I can only wait so long,” his voice took on a gruff edge. “I’d rather not force you, Sae, but I will.”

I pushed him away, taking a breath to formulate my fuzzy thoughts. “I don’t want to sleep with you.” I felt the fear rise in me like it did at the market. His ears stuck up, canines ever so slightly visible. I chose my next words as carefully as I could through the murk. “I…don’t feel comfortable…with you seeing me…naked.” His lips unfurled, I had a chance, a small chance, to convince him not to impregnant me now that I had a little of his sympathy. “And I’ve lived as…as a man until a few weeks ago.”

He slammed his hands against the wall by my head. I started to feel lightheaded against his scent, or maybe it was the powder making its way to my brain. “I believe I’ve said things that are rightfully summed up by ‘I don’t care’.” He stepped closer, his body almost pressing into mine. “If you have my child—if you have my son, everyone who is upset with our marriage won’t be able to touch you.” He leaned forward, eyes staring straight into mine, which I was certain were unusually dilated. “I don’t wish to repeat myself, Sae, but I can only wait for so long.”

                                                                         ***

It was awful, the feeling of withdrawal from the powder, the feeling of forced consent. I wanted to cry, to dig him out of me before it took hold. I didn’t move, not with him clinging to me. He wasn’t Nate. I didn’t want his love. I didn’t want his children. I buried my face in a pillow, muffling any sobs that may escape. I felt his weight bear down on me, his mouth near my ear. Dread filled my stomach as he spoke, “Until you’re carry my child, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

And, so, we did. Days blended together, each subsequent encounter led to me taking more and more darkbloom powder. I had it in my head a baby wouldn’t take if my blood was hostile to it. I would rather be forced day after day than have to acknowledge day after day my body had changed, had reverted to its true self. I didn’t know what the true world was anymore, they were both filled with colors, with vague memories and faces, familiar scents. Maybe I was really dying, this was all a fantasy brought on by a coma. I kept waiting to wake up.

It had been weeks—how many, I wasn’t sure—of our nightly activities, of me upping my dose of darkbloom powder. Maybe it had been a month of eating little, of not wanting to leave my room, of feeling awful with myself. Eventually, I stopped putting up a fight against him, but I never told him he could do what he wanted. I thought he had finally lost interest the first night he didn’t undress. I got violent when he told me my scent had changed. I threw anything near me at him, I didn’t care if he were to retaliate. I didn’t want his child.

I was toying with the idea of ending my life as I felt the effects of the pregnancy, as I watched my stomach grow. It was the only way I could assume control over myself once more. I didn’t owe Noa or this child anything. The thought took hold, the only thing I felt I could live for was to end it all. Maybe if I died here I’d go back to my life in New York. Maybe I would die for real, get to go to some version of the afterlife and leave out the rest of eternity in pleasant joy.

My attendants left me alone in the bath, called away by another wife or a servant of higher status. I was utterly alone in the large hall, and the thought took hold. I dunked my head under the water, staring at the ceiling through the ripples. I watched my breath escape me in a trail of bubbles, feeling my lungs burn for air. To break the surface that was within reach. I closed my eyes, letting water fill my mouth, my nose, my lungs. I could be at peace, not beholden to another’s whims any longer. It filled every inch of me, lulling me into a weary sleep.

Until I spit it all up, naked, shivering on the tiled floor by the bath. Servants crowded around me, sitting me up, helping me expel the water from my lungs. They dried me, dressed me, holding me upright on my feet before handing me off to Noa who looked at me with an emotionless façade. “Sae, vii’ta,” he picked me up, “we are to talk.”

I had heard those words before, every past relationship ending the same way. It brought me a small flicker of hope, before it was plunged out by my own lamenting. He would never divorce me, not until I bore this child, and even then, if it wasn’t a son, I’d be added to his collection of brides. Ruled under Aya then, I already knew I was a freak, I didn’t need her reminding me of it.

He placed me in a chair, one of the few I had seen in his estate, in his bedroom. I hadn’t been back since the first day, waking up hungover. He knelt in front of me, reminding me of a loyal dog. “You’ve been unwell,” he said, voice soft. “Please, tell me before you do anything drastic. I can bring you to people who can help.”

I rubbed my nose, my heart beating too fast, my hands threatening to shake. “Noa,” my thoughts were coming in too quickly, I needed more powder. “You’re the cause.” I balled my hands into fists, hoped sweat wouldn’t soak through my clothes.

He hung his head. “You’ll have to be specific. I’ve done many things, vii’ta.”

I breathed in, calming myself. “You…You forced me into…into all of this.” I pushed my palms into my eyes. “I don’t resent the child, I resent you, I resent myself.” The words I spoke to him where things I hadn’t wished to even think about, hadn’t wished to even admit to myself. “I don’t want the kid to die but I wouldn’t feel any remorse if it did, Noa.” I stared at my wrists, devoid of any jewelry. “I want to die because of you.”

“You would deny my child life for your own selfish wishes?” He didn’t raise his head.

“I didn’t want this kid!” I stood, he finally picked his head up. “Where I come from, silence doesn’t give you any right.” I walked away from him, finding my own way back to my room through blurring vision.

He followed me, grabbing my wrist. I broke out of his grasp without hesitation. “Would you want to go back?” He asked. “Would seeing your home again improve your mood?”

I left without answering him, thankful he didn’t chase me further. I hung close to the wall, using it to keep my balance as I walked. I crumpled into my bed, pulling the covers over my head, grabbing the small pouch I kept under my pillow. I took more darkbloom powder than I ever had, wrapping myself up in a tight cocoon of blankets as it took hold. Colors, pleasant conversations, familiar faces lulled me to a sleep I hoped I didn’t wake from.