Inessa sat at her desk again, combing her hair. Everyone was gone but the two servants who stood a short distance away. Inessa brushed her hair, certain she already brushed the left side a hundred times. She had gotten distracted and forgot to count, but she still felt obligated to reach one hundred anyway. There was a soft knock on the door.

“Inessa?” Martin asked.

“Come in.” The past few nights she had always been in her nightclothes, but tonight she stayed in her dark blue dress. When Martin walked in, despite the anxious look on his face, it melted just enough for him to smile.

“That’s a beautiful dress, Inessa.”

“Thank you.”

The two servant girls headed toward the door, but Martin held up a hand. “I’d actually like to discuss something with you two women. You have been most helpful, and I appreciate the concern you have given someone of my household.” He gave Inessa a tiny smile. “Ana has reported not seeing a demon around you in two days. I’d like to keep you women still on close alert, but I think Inessa would benefit from more space. She is not as in danger as she once was. If we need you, you will be alerted.”

The two women curtseyed. “Thank you, Martin.”

“Forgive me, just a moment.” Martin rubbed his forehead. “Inessa? Is that alright with you?”

Inessa glanced at Martin’s reflection in the mirror before turning to face him. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Thank you.” Martin bowed to the women as they left the room. The door closed, and once again, Martin remained beside it. Inessa gathered her hair over one shoulder, running her fingers through it before picking up the brush again and combing the other side. It was dark outside. Inessa had the window wide open to let in the cool evening breeze.

“Did I… did I ever apologize for what happened that first night?” Martin asked.

Inessa didn’t look at him. “I think so.”

Martin nodded. “Well, I am sorry. Again. That was unseemly of me. I promise it will not happen again.” Inessa’s hand trembled enough for Martin to notice. “Inessa?”

She sighed, placing the brush down. Twenty-three. She stopped at twenty-three. She would have to remember. “But it will happen again, won’t it? I must get pregnant or else I’ll go to Fadrique?”

Martin leaned against the door, running a hand through his hair. He said nothing. Inessa, despite the beautiful dress she wore, brought her legs up on the chair, hugging her knees. Something her mother would have balked at if she had seen her. She took a lock of her hair, playing with it. Another thing her mother hated. It had taken her over four years of not being around Jina to finally do the things she would not approve of.

Martin took a few steps inside the room. He grabbed a chair, moving it over to her. Close enough that she could see him, but not too close. He sat down, his elbows on his knees. “Are you ready to talk about the situation?”

“Where I must get pregnant by you? So I can stay here?” Inessa asked.

Martin intertwined his fingers before tucking them under his chin. “The High Elders don’t know that I haven’t been sleeping with you. Navir is leaving me alone as long as I don’t make a big stir in the High Elders. But it is true. If you don’t get pregnant with me, Fadrique will.”

Inessa continued to play with her hair, not looking at Martin. She honestly couldn’t remember how many days it had been. Not yet a week. Yet it felt like eternity. “I would rather it be you than Fadrique, if I was given the choice.”

“And if you had any choice at all?” Martin asked.

“I’d just never get pregnant. By either one of you. By any man. I don’t want children,” Inessa said.

Martin studied her carefully before sitting up straighter, dropping his hands. “Is this what you meant that night? When you told me about what it was like growing up? You would rather go home in disgrace than have a child?”

Inessa couldn’t look at him. “I said I’d rather die than have a child, but going home in disgrace would mean my death.”

Martin nodded, looking distracted. “Just so I understand better, you would rather lose your titles and position for you and your family? You would rather return to your old life? Shunned? Unable to go to church? The people of your town would refuse to talk to you. And you would be disowned by your own family, so they do not share your same fate.”

“Knowing my family, they wouldn’t disown me because they need me too badly. We would all be disowned together,” Inessa said.

Martin still looked confused. “If you stayed here, just have one baby, and only one baby, the servants and the nursemaids would do as much raising of the child as you wanted them to. Our entire family would help. You could have all of that, and still remain your titles.”

Inessa said nothing for a while. She had a lot of thoughts, but none of which she necessarily wanted to share. She placed her feet gently on the ground and grabbed her brush again. “Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six.” “Thank you for letting me see your side of the conversation, Martin. This discussion has enlightened my understanding.”

Martin appeared and took the brush from her hand. “You do not need to pretend with me. Tell me what you really feel.”

Inessa met his gaze. She knew, if she was ever going to feel alright about this, she needed to feel like she could tell Martin everything. The problem was, she wasn’t sure herself. “I don’t know how to express exactly how I feel, sir. Martin.”

A small smile crossed Martin’s face as he placed the brush down on the desk. “Then just talk. You can sort it out as you go.”

Inessa nodded as Martin settled himself in the chair. “I don’t want children. Not even one.” Inessa shrugged. “I don’t feel like there’s much more to say, honestly. I just understand it is different than what society expects, so I must explain myself.” Inessa went again to playing with her hair. “There is no secret desire that makes me yearn to have a child of my own. I raised my brothers and sisters, and I’m done. Maybe that’s the reason why I have no desire, but honestly, who’s to say? I’ve never, as a woman, had much of a maternal instinct. Never had a desire to hold someone else’s baby. I barely play with my own siblings. I just feel no desire for it.” Inessa brought her legs up again, hugging her knees. “I have enjoyed my time alone, to discover the kind of woman I am. I didn’t even know myself. I’ve finally had time to have a childhood. I’ve learned I’m a horrible painter, but I love music. I enjoy walks in the garden, and I hate getting my hair done in the morning. There are certain aspects of art that resonate me, and others I simply don’t understand. Dancing is a bore but plays and operas are a delight. Potato soup is absolutely incredible, and I honestly don’t care for tomato soup. Yes, much of this life I have is because of the luxuries afforded me. Isn’t that what luxury is, though? Having the option to choose? Choosing, instead of being forced to choose because of poverty. And so I come to the ultimate choice that is never given to a concubine. I cannot choose to do what I want with my body, because my survival depends on it. So, I am back to the familiar. The lack of choices. I must do what the High Elders and society expects.” Inessa placed her chin on her knees. “Martin, I have just discovered who I am after almost twenty years of sacrifice and work. And you and your High Elders demand that I keep sacrificing for heaven.” Her thoughts were a mess, as she expected. “But maybe that is the ticket for getting into heaven. A life of sacrifices.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Martin didn’t look horrified, but he did look troubled. “I am in no position to judge who will go to Heaven or Hell anymore.” Inessa said nothing. She studied Martin’s troubled face. “What… what would you have me do?” It was a quiet supplication. He was genuinely curious.

Inessa studied his eyes. So old, yet humble. A humble old man seemed rare to come by. Though maybe the old men she knew weren’t the best subjects to judge. “I can do nothing. I don’t know what you can do. But the same religion forcing me to have a baby is also the same religion forcing you to have sex with a girl younger than your daughter.” Martin winced like he always had, then looked away.

“Thank you. For telling me how you feel,” he said.

“So I guess, between the two options, I’d rather carry your baby than High Elder Fadrique’s,” Inessa said.

Martin looked away, clearly trying to hide the way his face morphed in pain. “Alright. After… after everything that’s happened between us I will… send you to Beatriz for the time being.” He stood up, heading toward the door, not looking at her.

“Martin, it’ll be alright.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sleeping with you until you’re fertile, which might not be for another week or so. During that time, I’ll see what I can do to get the concubine law changed.”

Inessa frowned. “Changed? In a couple weeks? Do you honestly think you can?”

Martin turned, studying her face. “This is rape. You realize this, right? This is all any of us High Elders have done with you girls.”

“It brings food on the table of my large family,” Inessa said.

“It doesn’t change what it is,” Martin said, heading toward the door.

“Martin?” Inessa asked. He paused at the door, turning his head just enough to see her. “I wanted to say thank you. For… for not telling the other High Elders about my family. For how I grew up. I’ve been afraid I’d be sent home in disgrace for growing up in a brothel.”

Martin shook his head. “Your secret is safe with me. And I am sorry. I did not realize how harsh a life you lived.”

Inessa settled herself at the desk again. “As I said, we didn’t have another option. We learned, as children, to live a double life. The one we pretend we have, then the one where my mother ran a brothel.” She picked up her hairbrush, almost feeling lighter for being able to say all this. “It was my mother’s idea too. She even gives a fake name to the men she sleeps with to keep her protected.”

“Does she really?” Martin asked, facing forward.

“Yeah. Nicole, daughter of Susana. Didn’t even bother making up a father for herself.”

“Good night, Inessa.” He closed the door gently behind him before she could say another word. Inessa stared at her reflection for a few moments before she picked up her brush. She forgot where she was, so she started back over. She had to brush her hair for one hundred strokes, like she had always done.

***

The moment Martin left the house he ran straight for the stables.

“Cathedral. Fast as you can,” he said, trying to keep the urgency from his voice. His heart was pounding, and he was nauseous.

Once he climbed into the carriage, he covered his mouth, breathing as steadily as he could. Inessa gave him this information as though it was a thing anyone growing up in a brothel knew. And why shouldn’t they? Why shouldn’t the women give out fake names for their protection? It made sense, but the High Elders never once considered it.

The carriage sped away, and Martin went from covering his mouth to covering his whole face. In that book, they crossed out anyone who they got reports either died or gave birth to daughters. They were one and the same to them. But ten years ago, they started keeping track of who gave birth to females, because they needed to make sure they weren’t accidentally sleeping with their own…

Martin covered his mouth again, willing the vomit to stay down.

A few of the High Elder’s secret daughters were scattered among the concubines. That much the High Elders knew. Cristoval, despite all the ugliness he introduced to the High Elders, added to their secret law that no one was to sleep with their own offspring. There were some things even the High Elders refused to allow. They never breathed a word of it to the girls.

But if some of the girls lied about their parentage? Like Inessa?

The carriage stopped at the Cathedral, and Martin sprinted up the stairs, hardly giving the guards a greeting at this late hour. He picked up his robes and ran down the spiral staircase to the High Elder’s library, grabbing a lantern as he entered. He grabbed the book, one he had reached for in the dark plenty of times before setting it on the pedestal. He lit the lantern, his hands trembling dangerously before he opened the book.

Inessa had no idea when she was born, so he started at the beginning, just to be sure. He flipped open the book, turning the pages.

“Nicole, Nicole, Nicole,” he mumbled to himself, his eyes glazing over the names of the women.

Twenty-two years ago. Twenty-one years ago. Twenty years ago.

He did not want to find her, but he could not rest easy until he knew she wasn’t--

Nicole, daughter of Susana. Right under his name. The first woman Martin slept with nineteen years ago. Crossed out, indicating she had a daughter.

Martin gagged, leaning over the pedestal, griping it for dear life. “No, no, no. Oh, God, no.”

He slammed the book shut, blowing the lantern out with a shaky breath, hardly thinking. Not able to. Refusing to.

There was still a chance it wasn’t her. Inessa spoke of siblings. Perhaps it was her older sister. But… but if it wasn’t…

It didn’t matter. It still might be her, and so he had to attend to the matter at hand. Inessa could not go to Fadrique. Not after the stories he’d heard of how he treats his concubines. He had to change the law, now. He had to somehow convince three High Elders to change it in two weeks or else he’d have to…

Martin put the book back on the shelf, his hands trembling. If the High Elder’s knew. If they understood Inessa’s possible heritage, she would be taken from him immediately and given to Fadrique. Of course they would. It was the one thing they wouldn’t allow. Martin wouldn’t allow it either. There was absolutely no way… he could never…

He stumbled into the reading room, his breathing coming in short gasps.

“High Elder Martin?” one of the guards asked.

This is what the country of Santollia had become under his stewardship. There was no way he could sleep with her now. He’d have to give up Inessa so Fadrique could rape her. Rape Martin’s own daughter so he didn’t have to.

Martin collapsed to his knees and vomited.