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As a rule in our world, women cannot take lovers.
But of course, men are welcome to their pick of lovers, so long as they’re not a part of the clan, lest they embarrass their wives.
Our training was intense and vigorous. My father knew we would never be stronger or larger than the men in our circles, and thus, we needed to be better prepared.
“His grade has suffered, but further, he’s nearly started a revolution in the class, a quarter of his classmates also opting to not submit the quarter’s worth of assignments.”
Truly the obstinance of the optional
It’s almost refreshing, being talked to as if I’m a normal, albeit unhinged, aunt and not someone that’s killed a number of people I will not disclose with my bare hands. I should feel embarrassed, put in my place. Instead, I’m fucking thrilled.
“You know, every day it gets less glamorous to be you than I thought,” Nate says. “Maybe being an aunt isn’t glamorous,” I say. “But otherwise, being me is pretty deluxe.”
I didn’t realize how nice it is, sometimes, to have someone whose job is to handle things with you.
“I remember thinking that even if he never loved me, even if I was doomed to sixty or seventy years of a loveless marriage, Mother Mary would be there for all the big events, the baptisms and funerals, and she’d make sure I was still okay. That glass version of her would look out for me.”
