They got out of the carriage, Tolomon first, then Indenuel. They walked up the stone steps of the Cathedral, the beauty of it still catching him off guard at times.
“Indenuel! Hello!” Martin said as the guard opened the door to his personal room in the Cathedral, closest to the front doors. “Come in!”
He smiled as he sat down. Tolomon, again, remained by the door, saying and doing nothing to bring attention to himself.
“Now, I’ve already got a good understanding of how incredible your healing power is, so today we’re going to-”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the concubine law?” Indenuel asked, cutting him off.
Martin’s entire being froze. Indenuel didn’t care. He had wanted to ask this ever since he saw Inessa. Martin cleared his throat as he straightened the quill in the ink pot. “I had assumed you knew.”
Indenuel frowned, staring at the man before him. “And the fact that we traveled together for a month? That I asked about your family multiple times? That I made no indication of knowing such a law was in place?”
He was keeping his face steady. “There are a few things about this law that I disagree with, but no one can deny it has helped this city immensely. I am happy to do my part.”
Indenuel shook his head, rubbing the corners of his eyes before dropping his hands. “What the hell, Martin.”
If he was surprised at the strong language, he made no outward displeasure at it. “It has kept crippling poverty at bay.”
“But you clearly hate it. Your family clearly hates it. Every single one of you ignored Inessa the night I was there.”
“I admit, having a title like this, there are some things we don’t like about what we are asked to do.”
“Fadrique clearly doesn’t hate it,” Indenuel said.
“I cannot speak for Fadrique. His actions are his own.” Martin’s voice was steady. Too steady.
Indenuel dug his finger into his forehead, giving a soft groan. “This law is disgusting.”
“I should have known, based on your lack of questions, that you did not know about the concubine law. I hope it hasn’t been too much of a shock for you.”
Indenuel shook his head, focusing instead on the many bookshelves here in Martin’s room. There were a lot of titles on philosophy and doctrine. “No one did. Not one member of your family. Tolomon had to explain it to me at the banquet. You say you’re happy to do what you can, but clearly you cannot even bring yourself to look at her, let alone warn me that the High Elders collectively agreed you can sleep with young girls to keep poverty at bay.”
It was there that Martin winced. Tolomon gave Indenuel a warning look. He was talking too harshly because he told the truth of what they were doing. Martin tried multiple times to speak, but each time he couldn’t say what he wanted to say. “It does take time to get used to,” Martin finally said.
Indenuel raised an eyebrow. “Really Martin? Have you gotten used to it?”
“Yes,” Martin said quietly. “I have.”
The man was such a great liar, it made the hairs on the back of Indenuel’s neck stand up. Were there other things Martin was lying about? Martin grabbed a book from his stack.
“Have you ever done a healing bond with someone?” Martin asked.
“Pardon?”
“Healing bond? Able to use a ribbon of healing power to connect your heart with one person to another if their heart ever gives out? Essentially your heart beats for another person whose heart isn’t working as well?” Martin asked, opening the book and turning a few pages.
Indenuel realized Martin was trying to change the subject, but he wasn’t ready to yet. “Yes, Martin. I have.”
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Martin stopped turning the pages to look up at Indenuel in surprise. “Oh, really? Are you certain? I wasn’t able to do it until I was twenty-five. Nathaniel couldn’t until he was at least thirty.” Indenuel said nothing. Martin must have realized exactly who he was talking to before closing the book. “Never mind, I can find something else.”
“Once the war is over, will this law continue?” Indenuel asked instead.
Martin still didn’t look at him as he searched through the stack of books on his desk before taking out another one. “This law has been embraced by those who were once destitute, and a hope to those who wish to get out of their situation. I do not see how it can end any time soon.”
Indenuel shook his head. “Unless we lose the war, and the Kiam takes over.”
Martin, who had been opening a book and turning a few pages, stopped, his eyes snapping up to meet Indenuel’s gaze. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t that end it?”
“Don’t put such thoughts in your mind. Please. This is a war we must win. A war you have been prophesied will be the key to ending it.”
“So that you, Fadrique, Navir, and Dalius can keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Saving the city,” Martin corrected.
“By sleeping with girls,” Indenuel repeated.
“I understand the shock this must be for you, my boy. I truly do. But you must treat this almost like a different culture. You don’t have to agree to it to respect it. It is doing so much good to our city.”
Indenuel glared. “You aren’t asking me to respect it! You are asking me to defend it with my life! There is a difference.”
“You are protecting Santollia’s way of life,” Martin emphasized.
“And is it in Santollia’s best interest that you do this?” Indenuel asked.
“You’ve been in this city long enough. You’ve seen the cleanliness, you’ve met her people. Happy, healthy, gracious. Of course it is in the countries best interest that we keep this law.”
Indenuel tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, staring at him. He couldn’t understand it. Martin clearly hated what he had to do, and yet he was willing to defend it like this. He continued to turn pages through the book before he found whatever he needed to. “I am sorry, my boy. I should have prepared you better for it. I didn’t agree to the law in the beginning because I wasn’t willing to put forth the effort for something I was too afraid would fail. But, as you can see, our city is strong and thriving.”
“And yet you have only one concubine. One that was given you because she was passed around to all the others. Someone you don’t necessarily treat ill, but you do pretend she’s not there.”
There was a tremor in Martin’s hand as he pressed the pages flat against the book. “You mentioned an interest in wanting to learn how to heal anxiety in another person.” He passed the book over to Indenuel. He reluctantly took the book to see a diagram of the mind. “Shall we begin?”
Indenuel understood the question. Martin wanted to know if there was anything else about concubines that he needed to talk about. Or if Indenuel was going to draw it out and keep the conversation going in circles. Martin had said what he needed to say, and Indenuel doubted there was anything he could add to change Martin’s mind.
Indenuel gave a tiny nod, and just like that, Martin smiled. The conversation had been brushed under the rug.
Like he brushed away all problems dealing with Inessa.
***
Martin waved at Indenuel and Tolomon as they left for their carriage to work with the King’s Militia. He didn’t dare drop his smile until he had closed the door to his study in the Cathedral. Part of him hoped this would be the last time they talked about the concubine law, but a bigger part of him knew this conversation wasn’t over.
It reminded him of the time in the early years of the concubine law. The High Elders stressed how much this was not forced upon the girls. It must be an agreement with the whole family. Mothers, fathers, even brothers and sisters must all agree to it, and they did not push it if there was any dissenting vote at all. Martin was aware that many of the families in the city were so desperate they would rather have their daughters or sisters sleep with High Elders than watch their entire family starve. It was truly the desperately poor that agreed to this. If any member of the family said no, the High Elders would not ask again. It kept the idea that the concubine law truly was something to help the city and not a way to sleep with young girls as Indenuel put it.
What they didn’t expect was the young men of the city were absolutely enraged by it that first year. The dungeons under the palace were quite full of desperately poor young men who protested the law. Those who had watched the women they hoped to marry being taken away to do their duty and feed their families. In a way, this was Indenuel lashing out like those young men had. Inessa knew her place. Every concubine did. He trusted Inessa to do as she promised, to turn Indenuel’s feelings away from her. Once Indenuel wasn’t quite as enamored with her, his fervor to seek to tear this law would dissipate, just as the other young men had. All young men wanted to be a hero in a woman’s eyes. Once Indenuel understood she was not so easily impressed, hopefully he would be done.
It just took time. It was that way with Martin. It took time. He saw the benefits of the law. Less people requesting food, more people working hard in the positions they had with their new titles. The city was doing incredibly well during a time of war.
The nagging thought entered the back of his mind. Indenuel was right. Martin hadn’t gotten used to this law at all. He would sleep with Inessa next week, and the moment he remembered it, he tried to stifle it away so he wouldn’t feel nauseous.