CW: Themes of abuse and rape culture. This is Yelena's flashback. You can get by without reading this chapter.
The first day I met Reyad. We were huddled in a group; the latest installment to their insidious plot: lost, confused, and delirious from Mogkan's magic. Mogkan spoke quietly to Brazell, who smiled in satisfaction.
Reyad, who had been observing quietly, stepped forward. He was so young then: Several years older than me but a child nonetheless. Yet he had already learned what it meant that he was a General's son.
He saw me first. I was the only one who stared. Stared at his strange clothes, the way his chest puffed up with all the self-importance a nine-year old could possibly conjure up.
"You, girl, what's your name?" He pointed at my chest and demanded. Behind him, his father beamed.
"Ye…Yelena." I managed to stutter.
He smiled. I would see that same smile whenever he pulled the wings off a small bird or tortured a kitten by dousing it in water.
"I'm Reyad." He said. He didn't offer his hand to me. "Well, aren't you going to say hello? Aren't we going to be friends?"
"Hello Reyad." I mumbled.
He frowned, "That's Reyad, sir. You need to learn some manners." With a disgusted scoff, he turned and walked away.
We often stayed together. We played together. We heard and told stories together. We became brothers and sisters, all bound together by a common thread: lost, lonely children with neither past nor future.
But Reyad didn't like being left out. He'd force himself into our games. We'd relent because there was nothing we could do. And we had to let him win or he would be angry. Once, when May won a ball game, he pushed her down on the ground and pulled on her braids with no reprieve. She screamed and cried but the servants all turned a blind eye.
But he never bothered any of them as much as he did me. He'd tell me later it was how he showed his love.
There was only one person who took pity on us. And that was the steadfast nanny, Stoya, charged to look after us.
She caught Reyad pushing me face first into the mud once at the front of the house. He kept going even after my face was sliced open from the rocks and I choked. Without hesitation, she yanked him off me and gave him a sharp slap and a more than severe reprimanding.
Reyad cried and ran to his father, who had ridden in on his mare and saw the whole scene. Brazell met him halfway and held him close. He never glanced at me.
The General was furious, "What the hell did you do that for? I could have you put away for child abuse!"
"Child abuse?!" Stoya ejaculated, "That's a laugh! What kind of a father are you? You saw what happened. He needs a sound beating is what he needs. If you let him keep this up, I can guarantee you he won't stop at small animals once he's grown."
"Silence!" Brazell seethed. "How dare you insinuate that of my son!"
"It's the truth, you arrogant fool. The boy has already learned to be cruel. Pain thrills him. If you don't teach him better now, he'll never know anything but that. He'll never know intimacy, gentleness, kindness. He'll hurt everything he claims to love and wonder why his victims won't beg for more."
Brazell scoffed and began to coax his beloved son by promising him all sorts of gifts and privileges. "Not this again. He's young. You of all people should know that this is simply how all boys show girls they like them. You claim to have experience with all children in your resume. But I'm beginning to doubt that."
Stoya tried another tactic. "Sir, I never want to say this about a child. Because I truly believe they are too young to fully understand the consequences of their actions. But Reyad...he's bad. He's a bad kid. I don't know where he learned this from, but a child who would feel this much satisfaction from causing pain needs help."
We never saw Stoya again. She was replaced by another nanny who never so much as lifted her eyes up from the dirty laundry when one of us screamed and cried from the abuse. This one only heaved a great big sigh over having to rewash the dust and the blood from the pants and shirts after Reyad emerged from the front door and pushed a boy down the stairs and onto the ground.
The seasons passed and we all grew older. As lonely and lost as I had been, I should have been more grateful for those simpler days. I should have known what would come when they started telling horror stories speculating what went on behind the door next to Reyad's bedroom: the screams, whimpers, and agony they'd say they'd hear. But we all dismissed these cautionary tales as mere stories. None of us were ready, let alone brave enough to face a horrific truth we couldn't change.
And so we believed it without question that the older orphans had been transferred to military districts where their skills could be put to good use. Dancers, singers, artists, writers, and acrobats…in a land where music and color was deemed a waste of time…you could see the depth of our denial.
When I was exhausted and nearly broken from the experiments, I rejoiced at any reprieve. I sat behind May as I braided her hair and told her all her favorite stories the last few days we were allowed to be together. Her eyes lit up purely for seeing me and my heart lightened and lifted. I wore gloves over the scars I was beginning to have.
But I had to go back to my room eventually – that room next to his. I swiftly and sometimes ran when there were no servants to yell at me. But he always caught me when he wanted to.
Reyad fell into step with me. He slipped my hand into his arm and smiled. I grinned, as tears filled my eyes from the pinching he did. He'd hurt me more if I showed anything less than pleasure. Two servants walked past and one said to the other, "I heard she arranged to have a room right next to him." The other frowned, looked straight at me, and shook their head.
"I like you a great deal, young lady." He whispered in my ear. My skin crawled and I wanted to vomit.
He continued, in what he thought was a seductive voice, "I really can never help myself around you. But you keep leading me on for some reason."
"Reyad, please." Too late. I realized my mistake.
We stopped. He frowned and his jaw clenched, "You still don't know to address me by 'sir.' Do you never learn or are you just doing this on purpose to make me angry?"
"I didn't mean to. I…"
He dropped my arm and turned his back to me. After a minute, Reyad sighed and shook his head, "I'm so tired of this. Why do you make it so hard to love you? I give you so much. My father has given you so much."
"I'm sorry." I said without hesitation. My eyes were downcast.
He turned back and smiled, "It's a rough patch we're going through. But we'll get through it I'm sure."
Suddenly he yanked me to him. I collided with him painfully.
I heard some more footsteps and derisive chattering. I felt his hand wander down my back and my body froze, lest it shatter completely. I never fought him; I would hear them say when I was back at MD-5 several years later. If it was really sexual abuse like they keep saying it was, they said, I would have fought…I would have screamed…I would have protested.
But no sir, I saw them together several times with my own eyes. He was always very nice to her. She was crazy with jealousy when he simply realized he deserved better than a nameless orphan and she simply snapped.
And sometimes he was sweet. Genuinely sweet without causing me pain. The honeymoon period: when I did well on his tests.
This one time I fell out of a window six stories above and should have broken my neck along with everything else. But I survived. The buzz saved me and I landed safely on the ground.
Reyad blew me a kiss as his face was flushed with pride.
The next day he brought me flowers. Floral arrangements didn't have a pragmatic purpose in Ixia so there was no longer an industry for it. That meant he had to have meant it when he took said he took all morning to pick them himself.
I held the carefully arranged bouquet gingerly and, without hesitation, thanked him and said they were beautiful.
He kissed me tenderly and showered the most flattering and sought after of compliments and praises. When I couldn't bring myself to blush the way he wanted me to, he got angry. But he didn't show it then. Even better, he had charted it into his journal.
Reyad took me for a long, romantic walk into Snake Forest and made it absolutely clear how smitten he was with me. We stopped for a picnic in a secluded area and he brushed my cheek with a feather like caress, murmuring more sweet coos and complements as he pulled me close and kissed me. He surprised me with sweet cakes because he knew they were my favorite.
I wanted to fight him, to push him off, to at the very least demand an explanation for his sudden, erratic change in behavior. But I never did. An aching, lonely part longed for the kindness, the nurturing I had been so long deprived of that he was somehow able to give. And a chilling, frightened voice counseled me to take what I could get. Because this wouldn't last. But that same voice speculated that if I behaved and kept from making him angry, he might always be like this.
When we neared the border, my heart clenched and pounded; I saw my hand slip out of his arm so that I could fly. And if I were caught, I would dare one of them to ask me what I had been through. Just ask and I would confess it all. I would give them my own journal, detailing every single time he beat, cut, and humiliated me. And they would take pity on me and I would be taken somewhere else and be saved; somewhere warm, safe, and loving. My fantasies were so elaborate I could hardly contain them nor separate them from reality sometimes.
This other life I dreamed of became my obsession: An adoptive family. A kind of love that wouldn't hurt this much, this often. Someone who would be kind and gentle without demanding anything from me in return.
Reyad led me away and I blamed myself for the longest time at losing this opportunity.
"Too independent, willful, impertinent…I'm done with her." Brazell said and turned without a backward glance, as if I were a toy that had been cast aside.
"Can I have her, father?" He was so eager his voice trembled.
Brazell's eyes narrowed at his son. "I wish you didn't let her get to you like this." But he waved his hand dismissively, giving his blessing.
Servants entered the room. Reyad smiled as he gathered me in his arms and kissed me – to outsiders a chaste and honest kiss.
They would gossip about this. Look at all that make-up she had on. She did start getting all uppity two years ago...led him on a merry chase too. Look at the way she just threw herself at him. Mmm…she had to have been jealous of him going with a General's daughter. I heard she's pregnant. What a way to repay her benefactor for his generosity. It was only a matter of time. You can't trust these orphans to have any class. Eventually one of them would try to get themselves into the General's house through the bedroom. I mean it's not like she wouldn't have found a decent situation elsewhere…
When the servants walked out I began to beg then. Beg for one more try, one more chance, and one more mercy. Anything but this. But Brazell was deaf to my cries and Reyad laughed as he dragged me away.
I still jump when people try to sneak up to me from behind. And even after all these years, there would be days when my body would stiffen and even recoil with Valek. When that happened, no amount of rationalizing could convince it that this was different...that this wouldn't be painful...that we were past this...that this was sweet, loving, and caring.
My body only knew it was back in Reyad's bed, prostrate and with my hands chained behind my neck as he raped me.
And I could never explain it. I couldn't explain how certain headboards and even bedsheets triggered me. It made no sense in my mind and made even less sense if I talked about it.
The soldiers yanked me off Reyad's dead body cruelly. I was dragged naked throughout the manor to the carriage.
I heard them before they spoke. Looks like she finally snapped. And after giving herself to him like that too. Giving? You mean throwing don't you? The General…how will he ever survive this grief?
The voices hadn't stopped even when I became liaison and was in Ixia on my first official visit. They still knew my past. And they knew how I got the only promotion ever given to a food taster.
Slept with the security chief this time, one said. Looks like a General's son just wasn't good enough for her! That one really knows how to get around. Tell me about it… did you know she had a room in his suite by the second week of work? And Valek has never taken any interest to a woman before, much less a murderer! I'd say she must have charmed him with some kind of spell but then there's that very odd immunity of his. I wish the Commander wouldn't be so blind though. What can you expect from magician women anyways? I would never debase myself like that. Some women were just born with no class.
I thought I would be alone when Valek found me sobbing in a deserted storeroom after a meeting. He never asked why. He humored my pathetic attempts at normalcy. He nodded sympathetically and made all the right replies when I said I was just stressed and frustrated over some negotiation for coffee trade that didn't go right. He was that good.
And then suddenly the voices stopped. When I came back not two seasons later, the servants either shied completely away from me or they would smile nervously, brush past me in the hallway and all but run to their destination.
It might have lasted for only a second but I had caught Valek's very momentary lapse in dispassion when Margg dusted his desk one day. He had glanced up, too quickly to be casual, with narrowed, steely blue eyes. His hand clenched around his pen in the same way it would around his favorite knife. She stiffened and paled: her reply to the silent warning.
I never knew what punitive retribution he had promised and brought upon those who challenged this threat.
I gasped, sucking in the air. The swirls and flashes seemed to have stopped. I was back in my own body and my mind was emptied of its unwanted guest. My body desperately needed air, as if I had emerged from watery depths. I breathed in deeply once more. It smelled of rat, putrid straw, and excrement. I was in the dungeon…his dungeon.
"She's back." Mogkan declared.
"Ah, what a relief." Brazell agreed. He wore his own, fitted General's uniform. The honorific medals glinted in the moonlight.
I glanced wildly about me.
Brazell knelt down and smoothed out my hair. He smiled kindly. "You had us so worried, my dear."
I only looked dumbly at him.
"Things will be alright now, Yelena." Brazell coaxed. "Our good friend Mogkan here will have you fixed up in no time."
He swirled a vial, admiring its contents in the dark. Mogkan approached and nodded to Brazell. "This medicine will help her."
I squinted at the man. He looked so familiar. But Brazell held me by the shoulders, ordering I drink. I tried to turn away and my head and nose were held back. The liquid came down too quickly and I sputtered, choking. Brazell held a hand over my mouth until I swallowed.
Sharp, groping claws encircled my mind. They probed deep, taking and shredding those doubts and memories. Through blurred vision, I saw Mogkan standing with his back to me.