Page 78 of Vows of Sacrifice

It was Luanda. My husband turned in her direction.

“My lord, do you think it would be possible to ask your brother to have a bath prepared for Lady Ashana?”

“You could have expressed your request when I mentioned our meal,” he retorted.

There wasn’t a hint of reproach in his tone, but I had to admit I didn’t fully understand my maid’s approach.

“It’s okay, Luanda,” I began, stepping forward.

But she interrupted my advance with an imperious look. Such an attitude was so rare on her part that I was speechless with astonishment. What’s going on?

“We’d like to prepare your wife for the night,” intervened Marione in her shy little voice. “We also feel she needs a, uh . . . woman’s talk, my lord.”

Suddenly, Dovah seemed to understand something important.

“Oh,” he only said.

With that, he turned to me, strangely embarrassed. He scratched his throat thoughtfully.

“After such a day, I imagine that a bath would do you a world of good. I’ll see to it. Paivrin doesn’t have an army of servants . . . Understandably, he has no use for them; between Morgana and Grimson, that’s more than enough. Anyway, I’ll be back very soon to have supper with you.”

The next moment, he was out the door. In the cottage, there was only one room and no kitchen. A large bed, with a soft quilt in cyan blue fabric, caught my eye. As a child, I loved fluffing them up and then jumping on them. I imagined myself falling on a cloud. There was also a rudimentary table, so charming that its slight defect could be overlooked, as well as two chairs. My gaze wandered for a second to a large cupboard and the bookcases leaning against the walls. I noted that there was also a water jug for washing, and a large wooden tub that could be used as a bathtub.

I also liked the smell that reigned this place, a mixture of wax and bark. It was truly a fairy house at human scale.

“Lady Ashana?” Luanda called softly.

I looked over to her.

“You wish to discuss my wedding night?”

I expected the worst. The more time passed, the more outrageous things I imagined. With a little perspective and calm, I’d realize that my mind was really going too far, I was sure of it. Or not.

Luanda patted the edge of the bed to encourage me to sit down.

“It is obvious that you’re innocent, but more than that, that you’re completely unaware of what’s going to happen on this bed in the next few hours. Come, Lady Ashana. Marione and I have had our share of love affairs, so if you have any questions on this subject, please do not hesitate.”

It was my turn to clear my throat, then, with measured steps that helped me concentrate without giving in to panic, I came to sit beside her. I folded my hands in my lap and, for a moment, I just stared at my nails, trying to organize my thoughts. Then I looked up.

“Is it painful?”

Luanda and Marione exchanged knowing glances. Clearly, they’d been waiting for this question. The former grabbed my hand and looked at me, smiling kindly.

“It all depends. I know women who suffered martyrdom when their man broke the barrier of virginity, and others who barely felt it.”

“The barrier of virginity?” I repeated.

Marione nodded.

“It is a thin wall, you know, here, on the inside,” she clarified, pointing to her crotch. “It proves that the woman has never been intimate with a man. He’s the one who tears her apart with his, uh . . .”

She hesitated to use terms that might shock me and sought help from her colleague. Luanda shook her head, laughing.

“With his penis, Marione. With his penis. I think you can say the word, Lady Ashana is now a married woman and she’s going to get a good look at her husband’s, so . . .”

Marione blushed, then hid a laugh behind her palm.

“They say you can tell the size by the size of the man’s hand!” she laughed. “I imagine Lord Dovah’s is . . . a good size!”

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