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“Of that I have no doubt.” They grin, a sharp slash of white teeth and amusement. “I’m Ramanu, by the way. They/them.”
Maybe I should find it strange that there are so many nonbinary people in this realm, but I suspect it’s more a reflection of where I come from than where I’ve ended up. Back home is not exactly a welcoming environment for people who don’t fit in the confined boxes prescribed by the church—gender, sexuality, and otherwise.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say stiffly.
“No, it’s not.” They laugh, a musical sound that draws me in despite myself. “No one likes a babysitter, and territory leaders least of all. Rusalka is the best of the bunch, my own monarch excluded of course. Court loyalty and all that.” They wave the concept away as if it doesn’t matter. “Rusalka tells me that you’ve already decided to have a child to benefit the territory.” They don’t sound any happier with the information than anyone else has since I stated my intentions.
It’s irritating. I cross my arms over my chest. “That is the purpose I was brought here to fulfill. I don’t understand why everyone is getting so precious about someone agreeing to the very thing they want. I may not know Rusalka well, but even with the little I do know about them, I think there’s no way they would force someone into that position. So...” I catch sight of their blatant effort not to laugh, and I glare. “Back off.”
They chuckle under their breath. “With how Azazel and Rusalka are acting, I expected to find a quivering mess of a human, and yet here you are.” They circle around the counter and set a plate of food in front of me. I can’t quite define what the things on my plate are, but the smells are amazing. “You’re no wilting flower, are you?”
I accept a fork and poke at what might be a root vegetable. “I understand my past trauma makes everyone nervous, but I’m more than capable of making my own decisions.”
“So it would seem,” Ramanu muses. They sink gracefully into the chair across from me and prop their elbows on the small table between us. I almost tell them to get their elbows off the table, but realize that’s my mother talking, not me.
My first bite of the food has a surprised noise slipping free. I cover my mouth with my hand. “This is good.”
“I’m a demon of many talents.” They examine their claws, a deep black that looks similar to that of the incubi and succubi. “I do have one question, though.”
I pause in the midst of taking a second bite. This feels like a trap. “Yes?”
“You’re right. You show every evidence of being a smart person who is more than capable of making their own choices.”
I wait. This must be a trap. They’re being too nice to me. But then, hasn’t everyone been too nice to me, from Azazel, with the initial contract, to every person I’ve come into contact with since? The deep suspicion in me comes from a lifetime of backhanded compliments and condemnations. “That’s a statement.”
“Indeed.” Ramanu doesn’t make me wait long. They push their chair back and rise. “My question is one I don’t need an answer to—but you should answer it to yourself.”
I set down my fork. “Are you normally this dramatic?”
“Always.” They laugh. “Like I said, no one doubts your ability to make a decision. What I think you should examine closely from all angles is why you’re making that decision.”
An easy enough question to answer. “It helps people.”
“Mmm.” They turn away. I belatedly notice that they’re wearing some kind of tunic with the sides split and what appear to be short shorts beneath it. They pause in the doorway. “And why do you want to help people so desperately, Belladonna? Is it out of genuine desire? Or is it because you don’t think you have worth if you’re not of use?” They slip out of the room before I can form an answer.
Even so, my jaw works and I sputter, “That’s not why!” There’s no answer, of course. True to their word, Ramanu doesn’t seem to care what my answer is. And why should they? I’m doing what everyone wants. It’s incredibly frustrating that no one seems happy about it. If I’d been able to do what my parents and pastor wanted, to fulfill their requirements as easily as I’m able to for Rusalka and her territory, my family would have been beside themselves with joy over what an obedient daughter I was. Instead, all I get are questions.
Or is it because you don’t think you have worth if you’re not of use?
I slump back in my chair. I have a feeling Ramanu’s question is going to haunt me for a long, long time.
14
RUSALKA
The next few days fall into an uneasy rhythm. I don’t want to push Belladonna, to preach to her. She’s had enough of that in her life. Instead, I set about showing her around her new home. We meander through the shops in the square and then venture outward in slow spirals that take days. I show her how the homes and families are arranged: the most vulnerable of our population closer to the center, and those trained in defense closer to the edges. We haven’t had war in a very long time, but there are other dangers. Hellcats, in particular—known to eat the unwary person—not to mention the other large predators that make their homes in the forests of my territory.
The community gardens delight her so much that she forgets her nerves and shame and quizzes the head gardener, Bogdan, about the plants until he huffs in surrender and tells her that if she’s going to take up his time, the least she can do is help. I watch closely, ready to jump in if Belladonna wilts, but she just smiles and says, “Teach me. Please.”
The next day, she’s out there before I’m even up, dressed in pants and a tunic that she must have asked someone for, because I know they weren’t among the items I ordered for her wardrobe. I wouldn’t know she’d gone if I were working like I normally would be, holed up in my study. Right about now, I should be taking my coffee as I read through correspondence to figure out what needs to be responded to quickly and what can be left for a later hour.
Instead I’m on the west balcony of the manor, sipping my coffee and watching Belladonna and Bogdan in the garden. I can see most of the village from here, and though I can’t pick up Belladonna’s features at this distance, I can see that her body language is relaxed and easy. Even Bogdan has lost some of the customary tension he maintains; I’ve only ever seen him this patient when teaching the village children.
“She seems to be settling in.”
“In some ways.” I don’t look over to where Inna leans against the balcony. My court has been checking up on me throughout each day, and they can’t quite decide if they’re worried or pleased. I’m not acting like myself.
Inna sighs. “I didn’t really want to be the one to have this conversation with you, but we drew straws, so here I am.”
