Divine Charity

Chapter Seventeen: Truce?

Lena was sitting in the common room, sprawled lazily in a lounger when he entered the grant. He'd worked the night shift in the control room and Lena hadn't slept a wink as she waited patiently for his appearance. "Hello Khamuel."

He paused in removing his boots. "What did you call me?"

"Khamuel," she repeated. "It's your name, isn't it?"

His glow flickered. "You shall address me as–"

"What? 'Husband?' Hell no! And I won't address you as king or your majesty or any other nonsense like that. You aren't my husband. You aren't my king. You're my captor and nothing else. Be happy I'm calling you by your name instead of 'shithead!'"

The look on his face? Priceless. Until his jaw clenched and the temperature in the room rose. He took off his other boot and stood tall. "Did I not mandate you speak Ka'al? I hoped you would finally learn how to speak without blaspheming."

"Very well," she said, switching to Ka'al, though with a heavy accent and broken grammar. "Speaking Ka'al only are good practice. Then I will know better when I am fool-making myself. Why allowed me to call you husband all time?"

He shrugged, and to his credit, did not mock her first real attempt at Ka'al. "You struggle with the language. There is no fault in that."

Unclear how to articulate her next thoughts, Lena switched back to English. "You let me look like an idiot in front of everybody, walking around calling you by that stupid title." She laughed, causing a wayward curl to fall over her eye. "Could you imagine such a travesty? You? Married to me? A spawn? I'm basically a demon! Your people would freaking love that."

Lena had never alluded to herself so honestly before, and Khamuel was momentarily taken aback by her candid words. "Carrying spawn blood is not what forms you, Lena. I am learning it is only a part of your genetic make. Naught more."

Tears filled her eyes. "But that's why you hate me so much. Even now, knowing I never conspired with him. Because I'm tainted. Or is it because he killed your mother?"

He looked away and did not respond.

Lena nodded to herself. Acknowledging that he would never fully accept her almost made the hurt easier to bear. At least now she understood. "You really are a shithead."

"One day, woman, you will learn to heed your words," he said with no real bite to his tone.

"Pffft. Yeah. That'll happen." When he just stood there, trying to decide how to proceed, Lena took advantage of his silence. "On Earth, if anyone suspected what I am, they would have actively tried to destroy me. You may not like me, but you've kept me alive, inserted me into your clan, and you aren't afraid of me. True ... you took me prisoner but," her voice faltered with guilt, "I killed people and I held your mother captive. Now, you almost act as if everything is normal. Why?"

"I saw what happened to you. I understand why you acted as you did."

"You don't look afraid of me, though. Everyone else has been giving me a wide berth, but not you. Why?"

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. When he spoke, there was a touch of relief mixed with his usual arrogance. "Scions of the Eternal One have no reason to fear the spawned."

Lena's breath shuddered as it left her body. She looked at him searchingly, trying to figure out if he was joking. "You?"

"Aye," he confirmed. "Crafted of the Eternal One himself and born of a virgin modir."

If ever there was a time Lena needed a drink, this was it. She stumbled over to the shelves on the wall and grabbed a bottle of wine she had ordered on the day Khamuel forced her to move in with him. Lena bypassed the crystal cups and took a long, hard swallow directly from the bottle.