Page 42 of Humans Don't Have Horns
“Your mother never did anything against her will. She wanted to take your aunt down,” Bina tells me.
I shut my eyes, feeling my headache intensify. My mother would never have gone ahead with the dumb coup if Bina hadn’t promised the support of the council. But Bina’s political abilities are average at best. She’s not a bad person; just inept. And it cost my mother and me our lives. Rutanna never got a second chance, and I’m so angry at her and miss her at the same time.
“Just say what it is you came to say,” I demand of Bina. Because there is no point discussing the past with her.
“You need to get married,” she blurts out. I open my eyes and stare at her. Has she finally lost it?
“Not going to happen,” I say curtly.
“Be reasonable, Siean. You need an heir.”
I can’t help but laugh at that.
She sighs and raises her hands in frustration. “Your position at the council is too weak. If you don’t get a powerful family as your ally, you’ll soon be dead. You know this,” she cries in frustration.
“I’m not marrying a man, Bina.” I shudder. The mere idea of lying with a man is as appealing to me as pubic hair on a soap bar.
“Is that what it’s about? You can have as many lovers as you want.It’s even easier this way. Your husband won’t need to worry about bastards,” she says.
“Men,” I slur, “even Renyan men, have a tendency to try to control their wives. I’m not giving some power-lusting royal power over me. Tilil never got married, and she ruled for twenty years.”
“You’re not Tilil, Siean. You won’t murder the families of your opposition. You won’t send the decapitated children’s heads to your opponents. She remained on the throne because she was a cold-hearted psychopath. And that’s not who you are. Pretend it as you may.”
My head throbs. It’s like knives are stabbing it. The withdrawal from the immortality drug takes its toll on me. In the beginning, everything hurt. The bones, the muscles, the skin. Aging nine years in one month is hard on the body. The headaches didn’t pass, and Bina isn’t helping with them either.
A servant walks inside. “Healer Anya Shoki said you asked for her, Your Majesty.”
My headache is only going to get worse. “Bring her in,” I tell him. “You’re dismissed,” I wave Bina off. I’ve had enough of her for the day, for a lifetime.
I go to the wet bar and pour myself another glass of wine.
“Your Majesty,” Anya says, giving a curtsy as she enters the tent.
“Good news. You’re the new head of the royal healers,” I announce to her.
She blinks in surprise. I haven’t spoken to her in a month. She looks the same. Beautiful in the same way. And I look nine years older. Not a sixteen-year-old anymore, but a twenty-five-year-old woman. For the first time in years, Anya and I look the same age. What does she think of it? I can’t help but wonder.
I’ve never been pretty. I’m not ugly, but my nose was always a bit too long and my forehead a bit too high. My indigo curls are mostly untamed. But Anya – with her big aqua eyes and soft, matching aqua hair – is perfect. And she gets more beautiful every year. Fuck my life.
“Why?” she finally asks gingerly.
“Because you’re the best healer in Renya.” I shrug. She is the best,and I couldn’t care less if her blood is royal or not. The favoring of origin over talent is one of the reasons for Renya’s downfall. Of course, the universities have also grown average. How can they excel when they’re not choosing the most talented person for the job only because their family is insignificant? Things were different in Renya, before the Aldonian grip on us. And the saddest part is they never forced us to prefer our royals over our commoners. The royals just seized the opportunity for more power.
I’ll make her head of the royal healers because she is the best healer in Renya, despite how young she is. And despite how having her around me is going to be a nightmare.
“People will talk,” she scoffs.
I lounge back on the couch. “Are you going to pass up the highlight of your career because of gossip?” I raise an eyebrow in question.
“Is this your way of trying to get me back?”
I’m so shocked I almost choke on my wine. She knows she is the best healer, doesn’t she? That’s the only reason Tilil hasn’t killed her yet. That and me making sure she’ll never know how important she is to me.
“I wouldn’t take you back even if you got down on your knees and begged me,” I slur at her. Great, now I have the image of her on her knees. I said it before, but I’ll say it again: fuck my life.
She crosses her arms and looks down at me. “The last one on her knees was you.”
I gulp my wine and can’t help but smile behind my glass at her bite. It’s true. I was on my knees the last time. Anya was spread open to me on the table in the royal library, sweet and perfect like always. It was the wee hours, and the library was empty. Still, it was so reckless and stupid. And I never felt more wanting, more alive, more loving. I had never been in love before her. Or after. But that was more than two years ago.
