Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 34.2: Unloveable

Cw for talks of purity culture, loss of virginity, sex and abuse.
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Ella slowly dragged her feet toward the tent, on the further side of the camp. She would have rather fought off another horde of demons than have such an uncomfortable conversation, but she considered Cedric's words and decided it truly was time to woman-up for a change.

She toed off her boots and slipped into the tent. The weak light from the fire was barely visible through the thick leather material, rendering her surroundings almost pitch black. She could hardly make out Aedion's shape, his back turned to her. 

Holding her breath, she crawled into her side of the tent, holding herself stiff as a rock. There was hardly a handspan of space between their bodies, and she was sorely aware. "Hello," she muttered quietly.

"You've come to bed already?" Aedion replied, his voice deceptively blank.

"Yes. Is that alright? " She shifted uneasily. "Gidden and Cedric are already sharing the other tent, but I could probably--"

"Wen, it's alright," Aedion cut in. "Of course you can sleep here."

"Right, thank you." She wiggled uneasily again, and they fell into a long, uncomfortable silence.

When she could no longer bear it, she finally spoke. "What you overheard..."

"Is none of my business," Aedion finished. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

"I don't," she conceded lightly. "I don't owe you any explanations. But this isn't what that is. It's... I want to talk about it."

Because she'd never spoken of it. Because for the first time, she felt she could trust someone. Because she knew that Aedion would understand this feeling she'd carried for so long. It was a gift to him, and to herself. A tiny bit of her soul laid out on her palm.

"Alright," he answered quietly. He shifted and laid on his back, and Ella did the same, both of them staring at the shadowed ceiling of the tent.

"Where to begin," she sighed to herself. Despite all of her brazenness, this was not something she took lightly. It was difficult to erase years of society's teaching that speaking of intimate matters was disgraceful. But this was why she had to do it; to finally lay that shameful part of herself to rest.

"It may come as a surprise, but Rhothomir is not like Faerie," she said dryly. "Customs are different. Stiffer. There is a sense of decorum we all must keep, especially the upper society. There are expectations of us, roles we must fulfil. For women... that is being sweet and demure, marrying well, and serving our husbands."

Bitterness filled her mouth, like acrid milk. "Part of that involves being chaste until marriage. Pure. You see, our bodies belong to our husbands, and we are meant to be unsullied. Otherwise, we are useless."

Beside her, Aedion grunted. "I suppose this doesn't apply to men?"

Ella let out a short, unamused laugh. "No. Everyone turns a blind eye to it. Men are merely meant to be discreet about it, but no one cares. It's not like they can check."

Aedion turned his head, his slight frown of confusion just barely visible.

"They... check to see if you are untouched... down there." Her cheeks blazed, and she was ever grateful for the darkness. "Before marriage. A midwife comes and sees that you are... intact."

Aedion made a low, baffled noise. "That is ghastly. And then they call us Fae savages." He paused. "Wait, is that why human women aren't allowed to ride astride? I always wondered why they rode side-saddle, it's needlessly uncomfortable."