"I'm glad we could reach this agreement."
I stared at the plate of roast chicken and vegetables in front of me. Both of my hands clutched cutlery, resting on the table. I'd lost. I was empty now beyond the feeling of guilt eating away at me. I was sat between my father and Tamlin, who had yet to speak besides the polite niceties.
I listened to myself breathe. I didn't know what conversation was happening, beyond Aled continuously speaking his appreciation for my father's kindness. That 'kindness' was what brought me here to stop the possibility of war between courts.
In, out. I counted through each breath, wondering if knowing I breathed was proof that I lived.
"She's a unique creature. Eyes are too big, but her mouth seems to even it out," Aled murmured. My eyes lifted from my plate to meet his gaze across the long table. His two older sons were sat on either side of him and his wife, my father and I at the opposite end of the table.
He and his sons were studying me like I was a prized mare being presented. I exhaled and returned my gaze to my plate.
"She takes after her mother. A unique beauty, it's what urged me to marry Odessa," my father responded. I wondered how my mother reacted to that comment, though I didn't look up to see.
"She is not as proportionate as the females I've seen in your villages. Does she not get exercise?" Aled asked. My fingers tightened around my knife and fork.
"Freyja gets in her walks, occasionally she runs," my father answered, voice tight as if he wished for me to take it as a scolding.
"Perhaps a daily stroll in the gardens will tone her muscles. We'd like her to be presented as part of the family," Aled answered. I exhaled shakily. "Her breasts are small compared to what I see as wide hips and stomach. Perhaps a healer could create a potion to grow them. Surely, once she and Tamlin are married, pregnancy will grow them."
"She is not yours to judge!"
I jolted in my seat, eyes shooting to my mother. Her reddened and swollen eyes were narrowed on Aled, teeth bared like a feral wolf destined to defend her pup. It amused me that she didn't find that strength when my father had his fingers inside of me.
"Odessa," my father warned, a hand on her wrist. To anyone else, it looked like a soothing touch, but I knew well that those fingers would be bruised into her skin.
"I can understand how a mother feels that her child is to be protected, but Lady, I hope you understand that your daughter is now my property. She is a member of the Spring Court, and I will look upon her as I wish," Aled snapped.
Exhaling slowly, I looked to him again. His thin muddied blonde hair was brushed back, exposing the freckles along his forehead. With a strong jaw outlined by a neatly trimmed beard and green eyes that rivaled the grassy knolls beyond the window, I could see how some could find him handsome. I did not, not when I knew the thoughts he had.
Alex's eyes met mine, a glimmer of pride in them. I was seen as a prize to him, which I found foolish. I was a piece on his chessboard in the game with my father, and with me, both Lord and Lady were in check.
"My wife does understand, Aled. She is having a difficult time parting with the girl. They have spent much time together, you see? Odessa has been training Freyja in her role as Lady," my father answered tightly.
"Ah, well I hope that the disobedience was not passed to the daughter."
I glanced to the oldest sons, Emyr and Dafid. Both had green eyes on me. Dafid's hair could be considered a brunette, though his freckles and eyes were the same as his father and brothers. Emyr had rich blonde hair just like Tamlin beside me, though his was cut short above the ears. Tamlin's grew long to his shoulders. Aled's silent wife, Carys, who stared at her husband's hands as he ate, had the same golden tone as Tamlin and Emyr.
I turned my eyes back to the plate.
"I cannot help but wonder why you did not make this offer when Freyja was in maturity. A female is most fertile after her first bleeding," Aled murmured around a bite of his chicken.
"For obvious reasons, Aled," my father grunted out. "When Freyja had her first bleeding, the war had been going for several years. There was no agreement to be made on the battlefield."
"Tamlin may have been young, but I would've enjoyed a cunt in my tent," Emyr chuckled, knocking an elbow to his father's arm. As I met his eyes, I felt my face heat, embarrassment hitting me with just how important I really was. I was a body to be used for breeding.
"Emyr," Aled snapped. His son still laughed, eyes dropping to my chest. My mother had dressed me in an "alluring" gown, as she had called it. The tight corset pressed my breasts up and squeezed my waist so much, I couldn't fathom eating a bite.
Tamlin cleared his throat beside me, his head bowed as mine had been. I looked to him, at the muscle jumping in his jaw. What I didn't miss was the yellowing tint to his skin above his cheekbone. An old bruise, it looked to be.
"Something to say, son?" Aled asked. His voice sounded awfully condescending.
"No, sir," Tamlin rasped beside me. I frowned as I looked to my full plate again. He seemed as broken as I.
"Well, despite their marriage needing to be officiated by our priestesses, I will be having the two of them sharing a bed. Now that Freyja's fertility has dropped, they need a head start," Aled announced. My eyes shot to him in surprise. I hadn't expected to be placed in a room with Tamlin already. When the maids collected my trunk, they told me it would be going to my chamber. I assumed it would be mine alone.
"They're young, I'm sure that the festivities will begin tonight," my father chuckled. I watched as he sipped his wine, glancing to me. I wanted to curl into myself.
"Well, our feast has finished. Let us retire to my study with whiskey while the Ladies take a stroll in the gardens," Aled spoke, rising from his chair. I watched as our plates vanished, including the cutlery in my hands, and each person standing. I sucked in an unsteady breath. A calloused palm was held out to me, making me turn my head.
Tamlin stood beside me, holding his hand out. Disgust rolled through me as I took it and allowed him to lift me to my feet. He didn't meet my eyes as he pressed his lips to my knuckles and turned away. False politeness, that's all it was.
"Come," my mother murmured, slipping her hand onto my arm. I looked to see Carys pressing a gentle kiss to her husband's cheek before walking to us. The males all walked out the wooden doors in silence. Carys still held her wine glass as she approached, waving a hand to opposite doors that looked to the gardens.
We walked slowly beside Carys, truly on a stroll. She pulled open the doors and slipped out onto the white painted balcony, her pale lips pulled into a smile as she looked over her shoulder at us. It was night now, the grounds lit by torches and the moon. A chill ran over me as my mother tightened her hold on my arm and lead me down the stairs after the Lady.
"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Carys asked as she gazed up at the blossoming trees that lined the cobbled walk into the gardens. My mother hummed- though it sounded more like a growl. I looked down at her slender arm, covered in the satiny sleeve of her gown. I wondered if I would miss her dearly when she left. My mother was truly my only companion during my life, especially during the war when Rhys couldn't visit me.
My mother had made me a dress fit for the Spring Court with its puffed short sleeves and flower embroidered corset bodice. The lacy underskirt felt too rough against my skin. I did not like the blush fabric nor the delicate roses that lined the wiring of the bodice. It was too intricate, too embellished. I felt like those small decorated cakes we often got from the Windhaven bakery on special occasions.
"Freyja, dear, it will be a joy to have another female within the estate," Carys cooed, though she didn't look at me as she laid her fingers beneath the head of a red rose and smelled it.
"How can you let them speak of her like that?" My mother asked, her voice hushed and broken. I stiffened just as Carys did. She rose slowly, casting her gaze to us.
"That is how all males speak to us, or of us. We are their possessions, Lady. We are here to sweeten their image and give them their sons."
My mother scoffed and I sensed that fiery part of her roaring to life. I couldn't help but see her as a coward for only letting it burn when around another powerless female, though I was no more brave when it came to those males. I wouldn't be able to stand up to them, not anymore.
"We still exist, Lady. We breathe, we live, we think. I cannot believe you'd be fine with him speaking of a child like that," my mother argued, her hand slipping from my arm.
"Freyja is not a child, Odessa. She is grown, and she is now marrying my son. You cannot protect what is not yours."
I swore the world grew still around us. I did not hear the buzz of insects or the hitch in my mother's breathing anymore. My mother had been docile and compliant for my entire life, but I've seen moments of her fire. I felt it swelling now.
My mother inhaled sharply as though preparing herself for a word battle with this female, but a voice called out to us from the balcony.
"The High Lord requests your presence, Ladies!"
My mother's shoulders fell as Carys's lifted. She rose a brow, sipping her wine, and walked around us. Her heeled shoes clicked against the stone. I began to turn to follow, but my mother caught my arm. I met her eyes, seeing the growing tears.
"I'm so sorry, my baby. I'm so sorry," she whispered, shoulders shaking. "I didn't think it would be like this. When I first heard of the marriage, I was so excited for you to travel our continent and find somewhere else to live, even if it was with these monsters. It's so much worse than I thought."
"Mama-" I began, but she shook her head. Her trembling hand brushed my hair back and cupped my face.
"Don't speak, my child. I need you to understand that I did not expect things to go this way. I didn't expect your father to- I didn't think he would go that far. I'm so sorry, my Freyja. I'm so sorry for what has been done to you," she cried. I couldn't speak, even if I wished. I didn't have words for her. My mother pulled me into her chest, hand splayed across the back of my head. My eyes didn't burn, my throat didn't tighten. I was dried of tears, even for her.
My mother pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to my head before smoothing my hair. She then wiped her tears and forced a wobbly smile on her lips before nodding. I nodded back, unsure why, and then she began to lead me back to the estate. With each brush of my slippers against stone, my heart pounded a little harder. Within those doors, my mother would be gone and I would be left in the bed of a male who didn't want me.