Chapter 33 A decent male
What followed was the most bizarre hour of my life.
Cressida spoke frankly about things I had only ever heard whispered about in Hel and books I had been forbidden from reading. She described positions and techniques with the clinical precision of a healer. She explained the importance of timing—"the fertile window is narrow, you must be strategic"—and the various teas and tinctures that could increase the chances of conception. She demonstrated, using two pieces of fruit from my breakfast tray, the optimal angle for conception.
"The pear is the female pelvis," she explained, tilting it. "The apple is the male. You want the apple to..."
"Is this really necessary?"
"Absolutely. Many Fae couples struggle because they don't understand basic anatomy. I spent the first year of my marriage thinking sex was supposed to be painful."
"And it's not?"
"It can be. But it doesn't have to be." She set down the fruit. "The key is communication. Tell your husband what feels good. Tell him what doesn't. If he's a decent male, he'll listen. If he's not..." She shrugged. "Then you have other problems."
"And Cardan? Is he decent?"
Cressida was quiet for a moment. "Cardan is complicated. He was raised by a father who believed strength meant cruelty. He learned to hide his feelings before he learned to walk. But underneath all that ice..." She paused. "I think there's a decent male in there. Somewhere. You just have to dig deep enough to find him."
I thought of Cardan in the alcove, kissing Freya. Cardan in the throne room, telling me I wasn't in Hel. Cardan in his chambers, saying I'm sorry like it was the first time he'd ever said the words.
"Complicated," I repeated. "That's one word for it."
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The conversation shifted as Cressida's servants packed up the remaining bottles and boxes. I found myself asking a question I hadn't planned to.
"My mother," I said. "You mentioned Fae pregnancies are difficult. She had three children. Was that... unusual?"
Cressida's expression flickered. "Well, I doubt it. My mother had three of us too, she was very lucky. Your mother was Queen Andromeda, wasn't she? The one who disappeared?"
"Yes."
"I don't know much about her. Only rumors." She hesitated. "They say she wasn't fully Fae. That she had something else in her bloodline. Something older."
"Older than Fae?"
"Older than anything." Cressida met my eyes. "The Morrigan bloodline, your father's bloodline is ancient, Nyx. It predates the Fae courts. Predates the Sundered Gate. Your mother's other heritage, was never known. She was powerful, more powerful than any Fae alive. And your father..."
"My father was fully Fae. The Morrigan family was part of the faes that were exiled to Hel during the Purges."
"Exiled for what?"
"For refusing to hunt the other supernaturals. For offering sanctuary instead of slaughter." I paused. "Hel wasn't always a sanctuary. It was a prison, once. The ancient Fae and humans used it to dispose of creatures they considered abominations. My ancestors were sent there as punishment. Instead of dying, they built a kingdom."
"A kingdom of monsters."
"A kingdom of survivors."
Cressida was quiet for a moment. "The fertility teas I brought you, they're designed for pure-blooded Fae. But if your bloodline is mixed with something older... they might not work. You might need something stronger. Something keyed to your specific heritage."
"Do you know someone who could make such a thing?"
"Perhaps. But it would require a healer who understands the old magics. And those are hard to find." She rose, smoothing her gown. "I'll make inquiries. Discreetly."
"Why are you helping me?"
Cressida paused at the door. "Because I have a son. Theodore. He's two years old and he's already a pawn in these games. I can't stand to lose him. If Cardan dies without an heir, the high lords and Elowyn fight for the throne. And they have no use for a child who might challenge their claim." Her voice hardened. "I will do whatever it takes to protect my son. If that means allying with the Princess of Hel, then that's what I'll do."
"Even if everyone else thinks I'm a monster?"
Cressida smiled, a real smile, not the honeyed version she wore in public. "Your Majesty, I've lived in this court my entire life. I've seen monsters. Real ones. You are not one of them."
She curtsied and left.
I sat alone in my chambers, surrounded by bottles of fertility tinctures and a potted Silverthorn fern, and tried to process everything I had just learned.
My mother was something older than Fae. My bloodline was more complicated than I knew. My womb was a weapon. And conceiving an heir was the only thing standing between Elowyn and the throne.
No pressure.
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That night, I lay in Cardan's bed and stared at the canopy above me.
The door opened. Soft footsteps crossed the floor. Cardan moved quietly, clearly trying not to wake me. I heard him undress in the dressing room, heard the rustle of silk as he pulled on his sleeping clothes. Then the mattress dipped as he climbed into his side of the bed.
The familiar chasm of cold sheets stretched between us.
I kept my breathing slow and even. My eyes closed. My body still.
Pretending to be asleep, I thought. The perfect metaphor for our marriage.
Cressida's words echoed in my mind. The key is communication. Tell your husband what feels good.
But Cardan wasn't my husband. Not really. He was a stranger who shared my bed and my oath and nothing else.
I think there's a decent male in there. Somewhere. You just have to dig deep enough to find him.
I didn't know if I had the strength to dig. I didn't know if I wanted to.
Beside me, Cardan's breathing slowed. He was asleep, or pretending to be, just like me.
Two strangers in the dark. Two hearts beating in separate rhythms. Two people bound by an oath neither of them had chosen, trying to find a way forward through a wilderness of secrets and lies and the slow, painful realization that they might need each other after all.
I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.
Tomorrow, I would start digging.