My room is unlocked. A fire is already burning, too.
Taking a deep breath, I enter and find Hibsej sitting on my bed with a knife.
She looks at me with tired, hate-filled eyes. "Finished so soon?"
I open my mouth. "My Lady, I?—”
"Shut the fuck up." She holds out her hand, reaching for my arm.
I let it fall out of the cloak, revealing my shift. She grabs my hand, jostling me all the way to the shoulder, and pushes my sleeve up. Dozens of cuts are exposed.
Notches. A reminder of every time I touched her bed.
Sometimes, it's a quick slice, only lasting for a few days. Other times, it’s deep. It burns and refuses to heal for weeks on end. I almost cried the first time she did it, but it's been a long time since I cried over something so trivial.
When she pulls out her knife—a regular kitchen knife she brought from inside—I look the other way. The sharp sting causes a hiss to push past my lips. Instead of fading into a dull ache, it intensifies.
Forcing myself to look, I see the wound spans the entire circumference of my arm. She still holds the knife to my skin. My mouth parts in horror, but she looks at me with such fierce disgust.
"For a week, I had my family all to myself. You shouldn't have come back," she sneers.
I meet her eyes, enduring the pain. “My Lady, please?—”
“Speak plainly. I’m no lady, and I tire of your pandering.”
For a minute, I am silent.
“You know that if I hadn't returned, he would've found someone else."
She shakes her head, but I see the shine along her waterline. "Before he saw you, he never wanted anyone else."
Pity flourishes in my chest, like a drop of ink spreading through water. Another drop is added. And soon, it’s too murky to see.
"Hibsej…" I say softly.
For whatever reason, the sound of her name coming from my mouth makes her remove the knife from my skin. I ignore the burn and how the blood feels running down my arm. I pretend not to hear how it drips onto the floor.
“Eneko built this room before he ever knew I existed. If it hadn't been me, it would've been someone else. He's told me that children ruined your body.”
The irony of that statement has always struck me as unsettling. Although she and I have had the same number of children, Eneko can’t tell because of our size difference.
It makes me sick.
As I’m lost in my thoughts, Hibsej inhales sharply.
"But they were his children who hurt me. I did it for him,” she murmurs.
Hibsej is complex. She’s cruel and sharp, but sometimes… I think I’m the only person she can talk to.
I can't bring myself to hate her. Not when I've seen how she’s treated, pitted against me, and always—always—given the short end of the stick. In a way, I envy her. She cares for her sons in a way I wish I could care for Wren and Thea.
"I know,” I say.
Her look of surprise is filled with hatred. "Why?"
The question isn't for me. She gave Eneko so much. Her body, her time, her talents. She gave him strong sons.
Whydoes he betray her?