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Ihave oft tested you.Youhave proven yourself to me.Itswerved and juddered inLouisa’schest, snapped her to staggering stillness.Because— because yes, she should be rejoicing that she’d finally proven it, she’d shown him, she’d gained his approval, his permission…
ButKillikwas still talking aboutthem.AboutLouisaandUlfarr, apart, separate from him.Right?Andhe’d even fucking broughtSuneinto it, and that truth jolted deeper, harsher.DidKillikreally think he could just handSuneover toLouisa, did he really still think — was he really still planning to — to —
“And,”Killikcontinued, so soft, he was still talking, still touching her, damn him,damnhim. “Andmayhap soon, you andWolfshall also welcome a son of your own, also.”
Ason of their own.Louisastartled, stared, butKillikjust kept talking, kept smiling. “Agood, strongSkaison,” he said, lower. “Ason ofWolf’sown blood, and yours.Ason who shall know only safety, andpeace.”
Ason.Ason.Ason.
Andit was that, finally, that sliced through all the wailing mayhem clamouring inLouisa’sskull.Andescaped in a shrill, grating laugh, echoing cold and empty through the trees.Ason, a son, a son…
“No,” she hissed, atKillik’slying,lyingface. “No.Ican’t.”
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Shecouldn’t.
Itcame out like a curse, spat stark and decisive and furious intoKillik’sface.Andyes, yes, she’d wanted to see him twitch like that, to see the confusion flicker in his eyes, because he was such a lying tyrantsnakeand she was saying no, no,no.
Shewaited whileKillikfought to find his composure again, drawing up his breath from the earth.Andeven putting on that look in his eyes again, that soft tolerant warmth, as if he wanted to comfort her, as if he fuckingcared.
“Breathe,Louisa,” he murmured, with another light, infuriating pat to her face. “Youare a strong, hearty, capable woman, and there is naught you cannot —”
ButLouisalaughed again, or maybe it was a sob, or a roar, as she slapped his hand away from her. “No,Killik,” she snarled. “Ican’t.Itried, andItried, andItried, and —”
Shehad to haul for her own breath, drag it up from the earth, fight to see through her blinking clouding eyes.Shecould say it.Shecould finally admit it.Shecould speak truth, face it, fucking face it,Ifear you not,Ifear you not…
“Ican’t,” she choked. “Ican’t have sons.Ican’t have — children.Atall.Ever.”
There.There, she’d said it, she’d faced it, but curse her, she was shaking, she was weeping, the water escaping hot and miserable from her eyes. “Itried,” she gasped, toward the ground. “Itried so hard.Iwanted children — so much.”
Therewas only silence, ringing sudden and empty all around them, andLouisagulped for more air, more truth, face it, face it. “Ihad — four miscarriages,” she croaked. “Oneof them at — six months.Ialmost —Ialmostdied.”
Thepure panic of that day, of how she’d screamed in agony in the latrine asGladyshad hovered and wept, still blazed with too much horror to bear — and she whipped her head back and forth, dragged her shaky hands down her face. “Afterwards, once we finally got the physician” — another too-loud laugh — “it turned out it was — it was all because of the infectionScallgave me.Theinfection that almost killed me.Itkilled all my children, too.”
Shewas fully sobbing now, and twitched all over at the feel of a touch, tentative on her back — but oh, it wasUlfarr, justUlfarr, and she lurched toward him, buried her face in his solid chest.Andthen shuddered and wept as he stroked her, so gentle and careful, his heartbeat racing beneath her hot, wet cheek.
“Iam so sorry to hear this,Louisa,” he whispered, into her hair. “Thismust have brought you such grief.Suchfear.”
Itseemed to only make her sob harder, weeping as she perhaps hadn’t wept in years.She’dkept it shoved down for so damned long, keeping it deep and secret and forgotten, because it could never be fixed, not ever.LordScallwas dead, and that had been the only answer, the only victory, and…
“Youdid not… scent this upon her,Killik?” cameUlfarr’svoice, quiet and perhaps almost accusing. “Wouldthere not have been… some trace?”
Louisaflinched, because — wait.Ulfarrmeant — he meant he’d wanted to know about this.Becausehe thought this was important.Damnit,damnit —
Witha flailing flap of her hands,Louisashoved away from him, staggered away from that warm, steady strength. “Therewere — complications,” she rasped, wiping shaky at her eyes. “Fromthe stillbirth.Ihad to have my womb — removed.Itwas apparently a miracleIsurvived, and the fever that almost killed me at least killedScall’sinfection too, so maybe — maybe it affected how it scented —”
Shewas babbling, spitting it out too fast and too urgent.Andwhy was she even saying this, giving them this, throwing out all her pain and grief before them —
Butthen her swollen, bleary eyes foundKillikagain, found his stunned, staring face.Andyes, yes, that was why she was saying this.Shecouldn’t bear forKillikto claim that yes, he had long ago smelled the truth of all this upon her, and he hadn’t thought to mention it toUlfarr, because it hadn’t fucking mattered.
Because— it did matter.Itdid.Itwas there on both their faces, shouting atLouisa, scraping like sharp claws up her spine.Ulfarrlooking so pale, so haggard and sad, whileKillik’swatching eyes flashed between shock, and disbelief, and finally, rage.
“Why,” he hissed, very low, “did you not tell us of this, woman?”
Louisa’squivering mouth opened, the truth hovering so close, so dangerous, so deadly.I’venever told anyone, ever, because it gave me — because thenIhad — because then they might suspect —
Butno, no, no, and she quaked all over, dragged desperately for air, for truth.Forother truth, for some part of it she could say, please —
