Inheritance

Part 2. Chapter Sixty-Two: Worry

Eory woke before the sun did later that night—twitching with excitement. He felt a surge of confidence that was very comfortable to him, and at the same time, scared him to no end. He kept thinking of the kiss Maruka had given him earlier. Evidently, the man had carried him back to his own bed after he had fallen asleep in the infirmary. Eory's arm was stitched up and bandaged, and he was glad that he had written down the word he had carved into his arm earlier that night.

He couldn't stop imagining himself in bed with Pollyanna and Maruka at the same time. He couldn't stop thinking about how wonderful it would be to have them both under such tight control that they wouldn't mind such a prospect.

He covered his face with his palms. I can't stop these thoughts! Every moment I don't hate myself—every moment I trust myself—they surge to the surface! Help me, Kori... Help me...

His fists clenched.

"I'm being good," He said aloud to himself. "I've done nothing wrong."

He climbed out of bed, leaning his hands against the wall.

He took deep breaths, and then sank to the floor.

Why do I have to worry so much? Them doesn't seem to worry this much, neither do Pollyanna or Terran or Eliita.

He realized that chastising himself for gaining some semblance of confidence was beyond cruel, and yet he couldn't help himself.

I shouldn't hate myself so unfairly everyday.

He looked at his empty sheets with a consternated frown.

His teeth sank into his arm.

I'm just lonely... I just want to be loved. This dark instinct... Perhaps this is just what Arrozans think love is.

Eory rubbed his tired eyes.

It was true; Eory didn't know what love was. Kori never told him what it was, and he was still confused about what it was even now.

When he turned thirteen, he remembered having an odd thought about Pollyanna. It was far removed from his previous thoughts about her; his previous thoughts had all been about how brave and good she was, and how much he wanted to mirror that.

Kori had only read and told him stories about adventure and heroes at that point, but, when he turned thirteen, she read him a tale of romance.

There was kissing, which Eory had seen so little of that he barely remembered what it was. It gave him a warm, funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he couldn't understand why.

"Why do people kiss, Kori?" He remembered himself asking her.

"Well... It depends on the people. When I kiss you on the forehead, it's because I love you like I would..." Kori stopped herself. Eory didn't like it when she referred to herself as his mother. "I love you as a friend. But these people in the book... They love each other because they want to have children together."

She didn't describe it much beyond that. She didn't describe to him what having children entailed, or why it was important.

When Kori read him tales of romance, it gave him a good feeling. It gave him a feeling that he would like to be kissed, and that it was a harmless, good thing to be kissed.

But then the thought about Pollyanna occurred, and it didn't seem harmless anymore.

All illustrations of her depicted her so flatteringly. Most of the time, she was dressed in full armor, with long, flowing hair, clear, innocent blue eyes, and mighty muscles. Sometimes she was depicted more femininely, other times, there was hardly a distinction between her and a man.