Chapter Fourteen
Trigger warnings for PTSD and sexual assault.
"This is the face we're looking for?" The wind blew Miller's cigarette smoke straight into his eyes. A shaggy-haired man with dark blonde or light brown hair and an almost ape-like face. Good grief, this could be anyone.
"For now," said Fischer.
"Who's your witness? And why are you speaking to bottomfeeders like me?" Miller smirked at his childhood friend, but he did genuinely wonder. He'd not spoken with Fischer in months.
Fischer shifted. "Because I know you've frequented Liberio with Miss Minsk. And I'd rather the officers not know should my source turns out to be false."
"One of your kids?" Miller tossed his cigarette to the cobblestones and ground it with his foot.
"I can't say," said Fischer instead. Zeke didn't need to be scared off yet. Besides, he was protecting his reputation, not his kid. Right?
"Very well." Miller peered at Fischer. "Say, what's wrong?"
Fischer groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. "We want to take the world back from monsters, right?"
"Yes," Miller said uncertainly.
"Do we? Because we live in a world where these precious kids could be trained to hate who they are so they can change, but instead we're raising them like they're hateful but special, just for slaughter."
"We live in a world where women can be raped without consequence because of race, so did you expect any different?" Miller laughed with the sound of broken glass. "Fuck."
"I need to keep my mission clear," Fischer decided. Pity for Eldians was understandable, but misplaced. They were enticing sinners, these Eldians.
"Obviously," said Miller, his heart fluttering. "I'll keep an eye out for this hairy dude."
"Thank you, Miller."
"But I'll say I've not seen him, especially not near Miss Minsk." Miller shook his head. "I doubt the charges are even true. Gross just bored of Eldian pets and she was weak enough to lay into his hands."
Weak was not Ilona, but Miller hated to think otherwise.
"Most likely, yes. Men like Gross – they're the reason I have regrets." Fischer eyed Miller. "You know?"
"I do." Miller drew in the pallid city air, wishing for another cigarette. Something different.
The mayor waited outside, his own heart breaking. He'd sent her here, to this dank and dusty torture chamber.
Kruger cracked open the cell door.
A hunched figure sat in the center, chained to a pillar. There were no lights in Marleyan cells. No sound could enter, either. The strongest men might fall apart and the weakest women stand strong. No one knew before they entered.
Her name rose in his throat, but he couldn't dare form the words. He was the reason she'd suffered.
She looked up then, and he saw a spark of defiance that evaporated as soon as she recognized him. Now shame clouded her face, but she couldn't move, couldn't cover her soul.
She was bloody and bruised and covered in dirt and the shame of horrible memories. And she wanted nothing more than to forget and hide herself, but she couldn't.
Instead she trembled, as if every shadow were a knife. Did he think she was afraid? No, she was angry – she was more than Gross had used her for –
He stumbled to his knees besides her and peeled off his shirt to cover her tattered one. Whatever she wanted – covering, safety, his confession – he would give.
She jerked away at his touch, and Kruger choked on tears. "Ilona, I'm so sorry."
She glared up at him. "Don't touch me."
She stared down at the weeping man kneeling before her.
"I'm sorry; I'm so sorry."
"You're all mine now. Daddy's not going to protect you this time; he said so himself."
The cart stopped, but no one moved. Ilona had the sickening suspicion that they were in an alley rather than the jail.
His hands were roaming down her trousers, and every touch made her wan to shriek, because with her hands tied she couldn't stop him. No – there had to be a way. She fished for every molecule of resolve in her body, but her words still came out jumbled. "You don't have to do this."
"Have to? No, but I can, and who wouldn't indulge now and then?" He waved his hand, squirming with excitement.
Then he nodded, and the guard held down her shoulders as he stepped closer, pressing his plump waist against her face until she could barely breathe.
Oh, but begging was for Father, not for him.
"Does it bother you?" Ilona asked, forcing a smile, forcing belief. "That no matter how hard you force me, you'll never touch my spirit?"
And he smiled, and the guard forced her mouth open so she couldn't even say one last 'no.'
So she froze every muscle in her body, because she would not reward them with a scream.
The words exploded from her. "You know I never –"
"Of course I know! You never would, and even if you did, I don't care." Kruger gripped her hand, and now she finally let herself cry.
She nearly shrieked. "But I didn't!"
"I believe you. I'm so sorry. I'll explain everything later," he said, wrestling the key into her chains. "But you're free now, and I'm going to marry you, and you're going to be okay, I promise."
No, I'm not. I'm not okay. She could still feel him in her. Her skin crawled, and she wanted nothing more than to amputate her hips and throat.
Father, of all people, and Mom – they were both waiting there, outside her cell. Ilona nearly collapsed, but Kruger tightened his arm around her.
Mom pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a sob, but Father didn't even attempt to hide his regret. "Ilona." He turned to Kruger. "Did you explain?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ilona, you have to go with him, but I'll be there soon, I promise. It's the only way. I – I can't forgive myself –"
"This isn't about you." Raina found her voice, and reached out, shakily, to brush her daughter's bruised cheek.
"Ilona. I love you. There is nothing that you could do to make me think less of you, okay?" Her voice cracked. "Whatever happened, I'm proud of you even now."
Ilona touched Kruger's arm to halt him, a familiar touch that piqued Raina's interest, though she said no more.
Her daughter's bloodied lip, bruised eye and swollen cheek consumed Raina. "Whatever happened was not your fault."
She had to say it. Stared straight at them. "They raped me."
Dieter let out a cry, and Kruger gripped her tighter, but Raina's love and fury never changed.
"I know. We know," said Raina. "We'll – we'll get justice. I promise."
But how? They all knew the law did not forgive women like Ilona. But like hell would Raina be stopped by the law.
A minister stepped forward, clad in his royal blue smock. She hadn't even noticed him. "Eren Kruger, do you take this woman to be your wife?"
Kruger's eyes were on Ilona alone. Kind eyes, thought Reina with relief.
"Yes."
"Ilona Minsk, do you take this man to be your husband?"
This was it? Marriage? In a dank and dingy jail that smelled of urine and decay? Of course.
"You have to say yes," Dieter prodded.
"No," Ilona said, "I don't have to. But I do."
"She's out!" Sally raced up to Zeke and threw her arms around him. She'd grabbed Tiberius and ran to Zeke's school as soon as Mom had told them. "I don't know what you did, but you're amazing, Zeke!"
"What? Already?" Zeke gaped at her. Fischer hadn't mentioned it. He must not know.
Zeke sagged against Tiberius. Treason was worth it. "Thank Ymir."
Tiberius hugged a reluctant Zeke, swarmed with desire to protect his brave friend. Zeke was the knight of fairy tales for Eldia, but Tiberus wanted to be the knight for Zeke. "You sound like my mother."
Zeke squawked. "What?"
"She's like a new person since joining the Restorationalists," Tiberius whispered, releasing his embrace.
"Mostly good," said Sally.
"Maybe," said Tiberius. "But being forced to pray to Ymir every night is a bit much."
"Prayers worked," said Sally.
"No, Zeke worked," countered Tiberius.
"Maybe both," said Zeke uncomfortably, afraid of more arguments.
"I guess," said Sally. "I hate them. They're spreading rumors that she loved an Eldian like it's a bad thing."
"How romantic," Tiberius said wistfully, though realistically he knew Marley needed an excuse besides 'Marleyan realizes Marley is Wrong,' and her love was probably limited to caring for Eldian children.
"I wish it were true. She's like a princess," said Zeke. "Can you imagine? An Eldian-Marleyan marriage?"
"It's be like a fairy tale," Tiberius agreed. Sally rolled her eyes, but the two boys remained entranced.
"Sounds too good to be true," Tiberius said at last, wishing he could stay in fancy forever. "Do you think, Zeke, there are any more good Marleyans, or is there just Ilona?"
"Just her, I guess," Sally said sadly. "Or more would help, right?"
"No. There are good Marleyans at my school," Zeke insisted.
Tiberius looked at Zeke. "What do you think will happen to them if we take over? We won't do the same thing, right?"
"No, of course not," said Zeke with a shiver. "We were always good."
But Mom and Father hadn't helped Ilona. Captain Fischer had. Who was good, again?
Ilona crouched on Kruger's bed – their bed, now – with her arms wrapped around herself.
"Here." Kruger held out a pair of pants. His voice trembled. "Your parents will bring clothing to you later, but you don't need to stay in those clothes anymore."
I don't want to undress for anyone! Near anyone! Ilona's fists curled. She hesitated. "Can you look away?"
"Of course." Kruger turned his back and squeezed shut his eyes.
He was part of this. This military. And why was this more personal to him? Because he loved her? Other Eldians had been loved before.
"I'm done," Ilona said. She was standing now, staring at the splintering floorboards. She shouldn't have – if she hadn't slept with Eren, maybe Gross wouldn't have treated her like a whore. Her face flushed.
Kruger waited.
"I hate myself," she mumbled. "I want another body, Eren." Tears cracked through her rigid armor. "I was strong in there, but I can't be here, and I – I don't want to be here; I don't want to do this; I feel like a child and I hate myself even more for it!"
Kruger folded his arms around her. "It's okay, Ilona. Your feelings are okay. You're right to feel."
She screamed into his shoulder. Her fingernails bit into his back.
Damn it, what else could he say? What else could he do? "Hey, your childlike nature is one of your most golden characteristics."
Ilona tried to laugh, but in her eyes he saw relief.
"Scream all you want. I'll scream with you, for you. If – if it could have been me instead, I would do it."
"No," she sobbed. "No, you don't need this too."
Their eyes were bloodshot and dark and desperate and pooling into each other's. The urge to vomit every darkness, to rid herself of every dingy secret, overtook her. "Did you guess? I thought my father would save me. I'm an idiot."
"No. You're a treasure." Kruger brushed back the damp curls stuck to her face. His voice darkened. "He should have. He was wrong not to."
Ilona gasped. It wasn't her fault. Criminal or not. Or was it? "Eren…I'm not – I'm not – God damn it, I'm not his! I never was, but he thinks I was, and I hate that. I hate him, and I don't know if I'm talking about Gross or my father."
"You can have both," Kruger murmured. What else could he say? What could he do? "You need to eat. I'll get food, then –"
"Don't leave me," pled Ilona. "All night. Please hold me."
"I wouldn't dream of anything else."
"I'm not a good cook," he admitted a few minutes later, turning to his bed with two bowls of canned soup.
"I don't have much experience, but I've always liked it," she said. "I can…later. Thank you."
She wasn't hungry, not at all, but something steaming hot might help clean her insides. And she did need sustenance. Ilona forced herself to swallow.
"It's not you," she said quickly, noticing Kruger's concern.
"I know." Kruger set down his bowl and rested his hand over hers.
"I should have been more careful. I should have lied or – or done something."
Kruger stilled. "It isn't your fault. It's not. I swear to you."
"I – I know. I would have told anyone else the same, because I'm such a hypocrite. But how – it keeps replaying in my mind." Ilona gulped down the remaining soup as quickly as she could, scalding the back of her throat. The pain felt good, and that scared her.
She lay down next to him, forcing her eyes open. Every time she closed her eyes, Gross's smirk surfaced. The smirk of a claim that wasn't his to make. I am just as human as he. I am not his.
As Kruger's own eyes drifted shut, Ilona's face merged between a half-devoured Eldian girl pulled from the river, men and women and more children begging for what fingers and toes they had left, a father burning in smoke that devoured his sight and smell.
He felt a monster.
"You just had to be the savior, didn't you?" Gross rolled his eyes and quickened his pace as his partner strode through headquarters.
Kruger eyed him. "She was a misguided fool. She didn't deserve your abuse."
"Ha! I mean, it was a smart move, until you factor in the Mayor's tumbling status." Gross shrugged. "Better luck next time. Oh wait, you're chained to an Eldian whore for life."
"I think," Kruger said carefully, turning his back to Gross lest he throttle the man, "you ought to watch your tongue about my wife."
Gross rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Eren. Unless you want to give us all a taste of her from time to time?"
Kruger spun around and glaring down at his partner. "As I said."
Gross threw his hands in the air. "Point taken."
"Private Weiss," Kruger said, addressing the man across the room. "Will you deliver this note to a doctor in Liberio?"
"Yes, sir!" Kristoph Weiss hurried forward.
"What, a doctor in Marley isn't good enough? Or maybe they won't take her?" Gross laughed, rather enjoying the muscles twitching in Kruger's jaw. For once, he would like to see his partner lose control.
"None," said Kruger, "Of. Your. Business."
He hated his calmness. He hated himself.
Ilona hated being alone. Mom might visit her today, but she hated the idea of seeing anyone. She even hated hating. The unevenness of her feelings – the indignation and self-love, followed by intense desire to shed her body and dissolve her soul – was killing her.
A knock on the door locked every muscle in her body. But then she heard a vaguely familiar, friendly voice call "Mrs. Kruger?" and her breathing slowed.
When she cracked open the door, Ilona recognized Kristoph and…the Jaegers, clad in Eldian armbands and kindness eyes.
"I heard you've been injured?" Grisha asked earnestly. "Your husband sent for me."
Of course he had. Ilona stepped back, swallowing. She didn't even want to hint at the past day, but she had to. "Kristoph, can you…wait outside?"
"Of course, Mrs. Kruger." Kristoph smiled at her, smiled like she was normal, and she felt the instant urge to hug him.
"I'm so sorry." Dina grasped her hands as soon as the door closed.
"I didn't tell them anything," Ilona said dully. "You should still be able to find the grain."
"Did Alma tell you?" Dina's eyes flickered to Grisha. The less this Marleyan knew, the better.
"Your involvement is not difficult to presume. But I would not betray any of you."
"Thank you," Grisha said, distracted by the oozing bandages covering her torn flesh. "Are those…"
"Dogs," Ilona said, sinking onto the bed. "I would have made it without them."
Faye… Screaming his name in vain, bit in the throat, alone. Grisha shivered. "Do you mind if I have a look?"
Ilona shook her head as he gently unwound the wrappings Kruger had placed on her last night. "I was lucky, I suppose."
"I wouldn't say that," Dina said, rubbing Ilona's shoulder.
"Are these your only injuries?" Grisha asked, opening his briefcase and reaching for a bottle of antibiotic solution.
Ilona looked away. "Mostly, yes."
"Mostly?" Dina's heart sunk.
Ilona shrugged. "As I said. They didn't have long for torture."
"This will hurt a bit. Squeeze Dina's hand." Grisha pressed a cloth soaked in antibiotics against her arm.
"How do you treat rape?" Tears stung her eyes as she choked on her words.
Grisha stopped. Dina lowered her gaze but increased her grip on Ilona's shoulder. She'd been right to insist on accompanying Grisha.
Ilona squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to see their pity. It's not my fault. It's not my fault. It's not my fault.
His voice was soft, almost like an echo of her own mind. "I do my best to assure them it's not their fault. I fix any injuries so that they will be scarred in memory only. And if they still want, I…can provide a cordial to stop pregnancy."
He rummaged through his briefcase before pressing a small vial into her hands. "Do you need this?"
Ilona opened her eyes to see his, kind and sorrowful. He was a good doctor, she thought.
"It's not pleasant medicine, but it's effective. And Miss – Mrs. Kruger, it's not your fault."
Did they ever believe him?
Ilona studied the glass vial. "Truthfully, I won't need this…But thank you, Dr. Jaeger."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes." Ilona shook her head. "And I won't tell anyone that you have such…concoctions."
"We appreciate it," said Dina. This was usually the time she provided comfort to Grisha's patients. "Dear, I hope you know you're the bravest Marleyan we know. I'd consider you an honorary Eldian if I could."
Ilona chuckled. Little did they know how close they were. "I'm flattered."
"Not many Eldians would endure the lies and suffering you have. You didn't have to risk anything, and you didn't deserve it," Dina said as Grisha rubbed salve onto the bites. "I consider you a friend, if I may."
"I already considered you friends," Ilona admitted. "Strange though that may sound."
"I rather like that sound," said Grisha. The notion of a Marleyan … friend … was more pleasant than he'd expected.