Granted
Not for the first time – and not for the last, which could perhaps only come to pass on a far-flung future day in the lifetime of the gods, if at all – the Rose Bride's brother announces that the time has come for them to retire to his room.
It is a curious change from the area they usually occupy in his observatory, under the stars, but Anthy Himemiya does not question it. It is enough that Akio Onii-sama has decided where he will sleep with her; she need only obey. Impassively she rises from the couch, follows him into the lavishly decorated bedroom.
Once inside, he wastes no time disrobing her and then himself. In a single humiliating gesture he rips her bodiced dress open, rather than unclasping the golden cloddagh chain that keeps it secured to her body. That is something only a gentleman would do – something only Dios would do – and Akio Ohtori determines to have no part in that. Then Anthy can see nothing of him but his broad, dark-skinned chest as he pushes her onto the bed, and a part of him disappears inside her. As always, she submits.
She submits in mind as well as in body, allowing her thoughts to slip away as though she were approaching sleep, or the moment of her own death. A dim, deep fog steals over her, and she settles into the familiar feeling of nothingness as easily as she settles into her role as the Rose Bride.
"Well?"
Akio's harsh lean whisper suddenly cuts through the quilt of fog she has wrapped around herself. He draws her body closer to his, forcing her to look at him. The only way Anthy knows to protect herself from the sight of him – her beloved brother, now a monster – is to hide: she remains limp, like a doll, and no light of understanding shows forth in her eyes.
"This is what you wanted," he continues, indifferent to her silence. He used to be angered by it, but has long since accepted this passive rebellion of hers: as long as she continues to obey his commands, he reasons, this means nothing. She means nothing. "At the moment of my death you selfishly kept me to yourself, away from those who needed me. You were the only person I could never rescue, and you resented me for it: I was held back from my calling when I most desperately desired to help others."
His words are cruel, but his voice is gentle – oh, so gentle – and despite her trained silence Anthy can't help the shocked gasp of pleasure that escapes her lips when he brushes his fingernails lightly between her shoulders. For a moment her eyes come to life with desire and disgust. Quickly she tries to replace her mask, but the effect is ruined. Akio says no more; he has won this round.
Yet her brother is not always a gracious victor, and near the height of his pleasure he leans in for the final word:
"How does it feel, dear sister, to know eternity with me? This is what you wanted, right?"
She wants to cry, she wants to scream, she wants to say not this, not like this, but none of it will come, and with a final thrust and a sigh Akio does instead.