Page 41 of Humans Don't Have Horns
Siean
Bina and the others are waiting for me by the horses. “I’ve prepared a horse for the princess, Your Majesty,” says Roshem. He’s such a pathetic replacement for Didia, rest his soul.
“She’s not joining us.” I reach for my horse and stroke his forehead.
“She refused?” Bina turns to me, aghast.
“I didn’t ask her.” I roll my eyes at her.
“But why not?” she exclaims.
“Because, unlike you, I don’t ask questions I already know the answers to,” I answer impatiently.
“But—but she couldn’t possibly stay with them. It is one thing to be kidnapped, but to choose to stay with the Cursed Ones,” she cries, appalled. The men of our entourage look at anything but us.
“Well, that’s how it is. Who knows, maybe she’ll squeeze out some little Cursed Ones and make me an aunt,” I state cheerfully because Bina looks like she’s going to have a stroke. Oh Goddess, please make it so. I’m so tired of the old hag.
An aunt.I wonder what colors such a baby would have. I’ll probably never get to see it anyway. Every time the Butcher glances at me, I see in his eyes that my life is hanging by a thread. He must reallylove her if I just walked out of that tent unharmed. No way he’ll ever let me near a child of his. And it’s not like she can stand me either. Doesn’t matter. I don’t like babies anyway, and I’ll probably be the world’s shittiest aunt.
“Siean, how can you say such a thing of your sister? Your own blood. Your mother’s soul would weep from the sky for such abomination.”
I do a theatrical search of the sky for my dead mother’s tears. Nope, no tears. But she’s right on that one. After all, my mother was a purist, through and through. Everything she did was for the glory of Renya. To free Renya from the grip of Aldon. A noble cause indeed. One I once died for.
But truly, it should be of no surprise. She was utterly devoted to the Goddess. To Renya. Her dream was to serve as a sister of the Goddess in one of the hidden temples. But she gave up on her dream, on everything that was her, and married Rod. So she could serve as the highest Renyan spy. So she could serve Renya, as instructed by the former queen and king.
Why else would she marry her enemy? Aldon was never an ally in my mother’s eyes. She believed Renya should rule Amada, the Goddess to be worshipped by all. To her, the Aldonians were no better than maggots, with their false god and never-ending thirst for power.
She was so deeply religious that she left her home to live among them and married her enemy’s king. Why else would she let him show her off as his prize in front of his drooling royals? Why else let him mount her like a dog in heat and fill her with his unworthy seed?
In the Aldonian way, he loved her. But in Renya, we don’t consider such things as love. Possessiveness and ownership are not considered love. Women are not prized mares to show off, mount as their owner pleases, and kill once he dies.
But my mother’s sacrifice was not for nothing. She served her country truly. She plotted and spied and became an asset. She served the former queen and king until their last breaths. When Tililbecame queen, my mother served her. Her loyalty wasn’t to her parents. It was to the Goddess, to the people.
But when she learned of the use of the Mongans’ horns, she was horrified that those of her own blood would act so repugnantly. For what greater sin can there be against the Goddess than to unmake her sentence? Only the Goddess can decide who lives and who dies. The immortality drug is an abomination. It is a challenge to the Goddess herself.
And my mother also understood that the ones in pursuit of immortality care not for the people. They care not that the poor starve, that their sacred gift for healing stagnates. They care only for themselves, for their youth. So she arranged a coup. She attempted to replace Tilil with me. But she was betrayed. And Tilil found out.
She never realized Rod had developed a dependency on Tilil. That he was consuming the immortality drug himself. Therefore, his alliance was with Tilil. When he realized his wife and daughter were slowly being murdered, he didn’t intervene. Unlike his wife, he wasn’t a fanatic. If he had been, he wouldn’t have consumed the immortality drug to begin with. He was simply a coward. He still is.
But Mother’s crusade against the immortality drug was never for the sake of the Cursed Ones. The truth is she couldn’t care less about them. If she’d seen how Lian and the Butcher looked at each other, she would have stopped at nothing to end it.
I will never say that to Lian. She is determined to idolize our mother. I can give her that. An idol. I wish I had an idol.
***
An hour’s ride brings us to our camp, east of the Cursed Ones’. I go directly to my tent, and everyone in my way hurries to genuflect. I haven’t quite gotten used to it. All that reverence, and “yes, Your Majesty,” “anything you wish, Your Majesty,” “Your Majesty is so wise.” No wonder Tilil was so full of herself.
My tent is the largest in the camp. The fabric is all silver. Its shapereminds me of a circus tent. But I don’t dare tell that to my people. They’d be heartbroken, thinking they had failed Her Majesty.
At least the inside looks good, with lavish carpets and a bed large enough for a threesome, as I made sure of last night. Bina follows me inside, so I go straight to the wet bar and pour myself a full glass of wine. I gulp it like its water, bracing myself for what’s coming.
“I’ve been waiting for you to be in a less testy mood for this conversation,” Bina says in a tight voice.
“Me being not testy while you are in a room is an oxymoron. So out with it.”
“You still blame me for everything,” she sighs.
“Yep,” I answer and throw myself onto the couch, putting my feet on the table in the most unroyal manner possible.
