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“Yes. Our ways are important to us as it ensures our lasting strength. Our women have different roles as well, but they do not depend on us. Though we dote on them, it is not to help them get by.”
“If we’re going to do this whole mating thing, I think we should do things my way,” I rush out.
“Your way? You said you’ve never done this before.”
“As in the way of my people.”
“Tell me, how does your weak culture join?” he says, and I notice a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
“Um…slowly. They get to know each other, which is called courting. The man often brings gifts. There’s a ceremony. Then…they mate.”
“It sounds as though there’s no urgency.”
“Why would anyone be urgent?”
“Because there are so few women.”
“I’d say there are just as many women as there are men among my people.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Where you’re from, are there fewer women?”
“Very few. For every ten male births, there is a female, revered by all because her birth is a blessing. It’s why we cannot mate the weak. Our people risk extinction if we do so.”
“Is that why there are none on Melgrim?”
“Where I’m from, women are never exiled. If a man is weak or ever offends a woman, they’re…” His voice trails off, his tone stressed.
He doesn’t have to say it. I already know. They’re exiled.
“Do your people have…mating traditions?”
“The women choose the men they mate with, and they take several at a time.”
“Wait—hold up—do you mean to say she takes more than one man?”
“Of course. One could take a dozen to bed, and each man would feel lucky to have her.”
“Would you want to share me with your friends?”
“That is not my choice. It is yours. It would not be my right to tell you who you can and cannot take.”
“So I could mate your friends and you wouldn’t get jealous?”
He’s silent for a time, then says, “It would be difficult, but I would have no right to complain.”
“My people commit to one mate for life. Of course, some are better at keeping to their union than others.”
He snorts. “So weak.”
“Perhaps it’s not my people that are weak. You're the ones who are dying off. Our couples sometimes have five to ten children, a mix of boys and girls. Tell me that’s weak.”
His face contorts in rage, and he bares his teeth.
“Stop getting so angry and think about what I’m saying. You claim we’re weak and you’re strong, but we are many, and you are few. So few that women can do whatever they want and face no consequence.”
His mouth closes. He regards me respectfully, as though thinking over my points.
