Bewitching Monsters

Deity - Part 2

"Miss Witch, how much of your ancestry is fae?"

"Thirty-two percent."

"By law, this means you are to be referred to as fae in legal matters, yes?"

"That is correct."

"Now—can you please explain to the court how, precisely, the signing of your contract with Lord Corvin went?" I went through each word Antun and I exchanged. Some of those in the room who knew fae law started exchanging looks and hiding smiles. Lord Corvin didn't know the importance of my fae blood, but he was wise enough to throw a deadly glare at his servant for his costly folly. "To clarify, you were never told to sign your legal signature, correct?"

"Correct."

"Your Honor, without the explicit order to sign her legal name, by fae law, my client is not bound by the contract in question."

Murmurs snaked through the room. The judge called for order. Lawra looked pleased with herself but something in Dushtuh's narrowed gaze left me unsettled. A weight tugged at my stomach as he and Lawra switched positions.

"Miss Witch," they bit. "How many people know of your fae blood?"

Why was he asking that? "Including everyone in this room?"

"Prior to this day, and excluding Mz Lawra, how many people are aware you're legally fae?"

I glanced at my attorney. She was emotionless stone, her eyes betraying nothing. At least I wasn't alone in wondering where this was going. "I can't say with certainty the exact number, but I'd hedge about six to ten people."

"Would it be correct to say that you prefer keeping this fact secret?"

"I'd say that my ancestry is information I don't needlessly give out to everyone I meet."

"Was Lord Corvin or anyone in his employ aware before today that you are fae?"

"Not that I'm aware, but—"

"Your Honor," Dushtuh cut me off, "The defense claims she is exonerated of charges on the basis on a fact that no one knew about before. How was my client supposed to know the contract needed special handling when she intentionally kept it a secret from him?"

"Objection," Lawra spoke up. "Speculation."

"Sustained," ruled the judge.

Man, court was fun. The fae thing was supposed to make this fast and simple, yet it was being dragged out into this mess. It was around this time that things got more interesting. By that, I mean O'dos decided to manifest in the middle of the room. Everyone's attention snapped to them.

Judge Ozgol looked ready to snap. "Excuse you. What in Justice's name do you think you're doing teleporting into my court? Who are you?"

Her tone didn't faze O'dos. They approached her stand and placed their palm to the golden Seal of Justice mounted on the front. When the seal lit up, the judge's glare dissipated. Only a god of balance could make the seal glow.

And deities didn't show themselves without a reason.

Thankfully, O'dos was here to defend me. Seeing them standing there, though, all I thought about was what was to come. The price I was going to be paying shortly.

"Your child shall be mine," they said.

Having to pay with the innocent life of a baby had been unheard of for centuries. But I guess no one had ever asked anything grand enough of a god to demand such a price in return. I never planned on having a family. I had barely known mine, and I knew a lot of people with poor ones, so I never had those dreams in my head growing up. This bargain wasn't something I could loophole though. I couldn't say, Sure, I'll give you my kid, but then never get pregnant. They were a god. They were a whole different level of arcane.

I struggled to find any way around this. "What... what if my partner refuses to give up the baby? Or I can't get pregnant? What if—"

"You misunderstand,"O'dos stopped me. They wiped their thumb across my cheek, swiping a tear I didn't notice I shed. "I shall parent your child."

That... that was the last thing I would've guessed. "What?"

"Compatible mortals grow rarer with each age. Even rarer are the opportunities to seek such mortals out."

"So you want me to be your broodmare?"

They chuckled and tilted their head curiously. "Nothing quite so husbanded. I have higher... ethics, than some of my kind."

Being the mother of a demi-god was definitely preferable to having to give away a life. I couldn't imagine everything this would entail, but for what I was getting, I wouldn't argue. I mean, I was going to get to fuck a god. How could that be anything short of amazing? And since they were a god—and my patron of the Grand Scales—I wasn't worried about ulterior motives.

"Okay," I said. "I'll have a child with you."

Now did not feel like a great time to become a mother.

I had zoned out, so when Lord Corvin slammed his hands on the table and stood up, I jumped. "Your Honor. I drop all charges."

The fuck did I miss? I didn't have time to ask. Everyone was dismissed and was leaving the room. I sidled up to Caera and pulled her back from the crowd. "Okay, I wasn't really paying attention after my patron showed up," I said so only she could hear. "What exactly happened?"

"Um, well..." she struggled for words.

"Apparently Antun messed with your contract," Aleril jumped in. "That god told Corvin what you overheard Antun and Erzsébet saying. Then Corvin cursed Antun out." He laughed lightly and flashed a devilish smile. "It's a shame no one else could understand it all."

"Right," I drawled, not fully understanding what he meant, but not caring enough to ask. "Well, I'm still totally stressed out. So how about we go get some food or drinks or something?"

"Like a date, Mistress?" Caera glanced between Aleril and me suggestively. "Should I wait for you at home then?"

"Mistress?" Aleril purred as he gave me a shit-eating grin.

Why was everyone in my life so insufferable? I sighed heavily and crossed my arms. "She's my maid. And no, not a date."

"Too bad. A date with you sounds lovely."

"Doesn't it? We should go on dates, Mistress."

I walked off, leaving their nonsense behind. I needed a drink—especially if I wouldn't be having one for a while.

[A/N: In the flashback scene with O'dos, the term "husbanded" is used in reference to animal husbandry. Husband (and husbandman) is an archaic term for those who owned and managed homes/farms. I probably could have used "agronomic," however, agronomy tends to be more associated with plants than with animals, so I decided against it. Husbanded still might not be the best word, but I spent too much time trying to figure out the word I wanted so it's staying.]