Chronicles of the Selphia Plains [Rune Factory 4]

The Cry of the Peacock Part V

Eventually, they agreed to meet privately no more than two or three times a week at most, and not on any schedule. They agreed on a hidden place where they would leave messages for each other, in order to arrange their assignations in secrecy. Then she walked back down the path to her house, where she sat sipping tea and thinking until her husband at last returned, then she stood and went to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal.

He walked in as she stood chopping herbs to season the stew she was preparing, and stood in the doorway watching her. She was aware of his eyes on her, but she was reluctant to turn to meet them. Finally he grunted and turned away, closeting himself in his study from the sound of it. She relaxed then, and when the stew was done, she took a bowl to him, leaving it on the side of his worktable without a word before retiring.

Alone in their bed, she shivered at the thought of the previous night. She lifted the sheet aside and glanced down at her bare chest and stomach, still scarcely believing that every trace had vanished. But though she shifted around in the amber lamplight, she could see no sign of even faint scarring. Her skin was as flawless as ever.

She heard heavy footsteps on the stairs then, and quickly pulled the covers up and lay back, feigning sleep as he walked in. He looked down at her and smirked—he wasn’t fooled. He turned and removed his clothing, then slid under the sheets next to her. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and pulled her onto her back, looking down at her—pleased to see her pupils dilating in fear. Perhaps there was hope for her yet, he thought.

“I understand that you saw your lover today,” he began, then when she opened her mouth to protest, he clapped his hand over her mouth to silence her. “But as it would appear that you at least remained in public, I will overlook it. For now….” He removed his hand and flipped the sheet from her, leaving her shivering despite the warmth of the tropical night. “Since you were at least somewhat obedient, I will forego the… embellishments tonight.” He reached out a hand to touch her cheek, and then pinned her down by her arms as he positioned himself over her.

Afterwards, he blew out the light, then said into the darkness, “See how much more pleasant that was for you than last night? Once you have agreed to fulfill your duty to me, you will be surprised at how gentle I can be.”

Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes as she listened to his breathing slow, remaining awake while he slept. She wondered about what he’d said—if he really would be kinder to her, if he would follow through and leave her alone, once she’d supplied him with children. Then she tried, seriously this time, to think of what it would be like to just give in, to be pregnant—pregnant with Bhima’s child—and probably more than once. Rishi’s comment, that he’d have to be gentle with her once she was carrying his child in order to avoid harming it, popped into her head, and she thought about what it would be like to have her husband treat her gently, perhaps even kindly.

Then her eyes flew open as she realized what she was considering, and she instantly rejected the idea with all her being. She had always guarded her thoughts carefully, knowing that the Ventunisi, the women of her tribe, had since ancient times possessed the ability to control their ovulation by will alone. Therefore it took only a moment of weakness, and suddenly the risk of pregnancy was a very real one. Thinking of that, the blood drained from her face, and she again shivered in fear.

Two and a half weeks later, she knew. Ever since her induction into womanhood at the age of eleven, her cycles had been as regular as clockwork. So when Winter 26 came and went with no sign, and the 27th and the 28th likewise, she knew. And she was terrified.

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Bhima scaled back the abuse after that night, as she hadn’t been caught alone with Sundara. However, they continued to meet, striving for the utmost secrecy. They didn’t meet as often, or on any schedule. Instead of going to his house, they met in different places, well hidden within the forest, leaving hidden notes for each other to arrange their trysts. Although she resented the need for the subterfuge—they were doing nothing wrong, after all—she also knew what the consequences of discovery would be.