“Three years, and you still can’t do your fucking job! All I ask is that you give me an heir, and you can’t even fucking manage it.”
The skylight was the only thing that stayed the same. Edur bled on the bed from the vicious cut since Tivar had come at him with a knife. He hadn’t moved fast enough, and it wasn’t like he could go far with one wrist shackled to the headboard, so it had been easy for Tivar to pin and cut him while threatening to carve out his womb.
For a moment, Edur had thought Tivar would finish him, but he was left with a vivid red slash down his torso. Tivar needed his baby maker alive.
Tivar took a deep breath and watched his bleeding brother huddle on the bed with one arm around his midsection while he shivered and bit his tongue to keep quiet. “I’ll sew you up, and you can heal naturally. Maybe the scar will remind you to do your duty. Serves you right. You need to focus more on conceiving or...” He started pacing. “This is your fault. Three fucking years?”
“I’m sorry,” whispered Edur.
December, 1649
The dim light from above said the sun was setting. Edur tasted blood in his mouth from the earlier backhand while he held his legs up. Tivar grunted against his shoulder with every thrust.
“You love this, don’t you?”
Truly, Edur did now. He’d told himself he did so many times, it had to be the truth.
December, 1650
He still hadn’t had a baby. His whole world consisted of nothing but the skylight, the bedroom, pain, sex, and the little snippets of things he could never have and only read about in books.
December, 1651
Still no baby. The cycle of light from above stayed the same.
December, 1652
No baby.
March, 1653
At the age of twenty-two, Edur still hadn’t conceived. Sometimes, he wondered if there was something wrong with Tivar’s seed. There was a test that could be done. Of course, he would never go and get it.
It was all Edur’s fault according to Tivar.
Sometimes, a little part of Edur’s brain wished for something else. He didn’t know what because there was nothing else anymore. One morning, he had to sit at the vanity with one wrist chained to the leg of it. He was always secured to something even when bathing. At that point, Tivar might as well have not bothered since Edur hadn’t thought to escape in years. He didn’t hope or imagine anyone would find him either.
He figured Tivar was tired of his looks since he was rubbing black dye into his ears. Maybe he wanted to pretend he had a new toy. One who could give him a son.
“You need to change your looks. You’re grown up, and Elswere hasn’t seen you since you were just a tiny little thing when he had that fight with your Father. To be safe, I’ll change the color of your ears, tail, and hair.”
“Huh?”
“You’re going to be his pleasure slave and my spy. It’s been some years, and nothing has happened, but I don’t trust him. Even though he doesn’t seem ready to do anything, I need a set of eyes and ears there. You simply need to do what I say.”
Edur stared at himself in the mirror as his right ear was blackened. Tivar’s gloves were stained from the dye and blacklike the filth he’d spent years grinding into his little brother’s soul.
He was supposed to leave and go be a spy? How could he leave the room and let someone blood-related fuck him? Not that he’d dare show any defiance or say no to Tivar.
“I will tell you how to act, what to say, and what to do. I have this all planned out, and you'll practice what to say and how to act. Remember, I’m your big brother, and I’ve always got everything figured out. I take care of you and everything else. You haven’t done your duty, but I still love you. Now, if you could pick any name, what would you pick? I’ll let you have that, and you can start practicing so you'll be used to responding to it.”
Edur could barely fathom going somewhere else after being in the room for so long. The question was easy. He knew from a book he’d read a few times. It was his favorite because it had a happy ending, and he knew what to expect every time he opened it.
“Lumi.”
“Can you remember it?”
“Yes.”
