I am not so oblivious to the effect I have on my husband as he may think. The shiver of his haunch as I pass over it brings a hidden smile to my lips, even as I move on quickly to not draw out the torture. The flames of Qetesh have cooled within me and I crave the gentle touch of his flesh more than the burning passion in which we had indulged not so long ago. I know that it is not the same for him, that the press of my skin against his is it's own exquisite torture for him, so I do not drag it out.

He stiffens and looks away from me as I reveal the knowledge I have of his pain, and my brow creases in shared sympathy with him. I cannot fathom what it must be like to know that a child of my blood would grow up not knowing my touch. Would never come to me to soothe their small wounds. Could not ask me for permission to eat another date before bed.

The potential creation of these children was an act that I did not agree with by itself, but would tolerate if I absolutely had to to compromise with my beloved. However, the cruelty of knowing was a torture I would not abide on behalf of my love, future sons, and future grandchildren.

I move to him to comfort him, wanting him to know that his pain was also mine to bear in solidarity with him. I curl along his side and press the silk of my muzzle against his skin, but let him talk without interruption. His words are darker than any that he has spoken to me before, and I can hear the anguish that exists just below the surface.

I stiffen at his assertion that the office will remain, too punch drunk on the authority that my new position has allowed me to take such forceful edicts lightly, but I soften as I realize that he is likely not meaning to be so harsh. My ribs heave slowly with a deep breath that I take to steady myself as he outlines what he wishes the future to be like for the children our People bring. In truth, his terms are fair and I see no reason to take offense at them. I can only imagine what our first coupling would have been like with the stamina of my beloved if not tempered by the knowledge of how to do his duty, and what considerations he owed me in the act.

True too, is the fact that our daughters would need more teaching than what my people offered. I had been lucky enough to have Antares to guide and take care of me, but I could easily imagine how such a beautiful act could easily be soured if the stallion was not gentle. My daughters should know what was to come, if only so that they could more easily temper their expectations. My face flushed at the thought of someday explaining such things to a child as their mother, but I hoped that such calm, along with the rest of motherhood, would come to me in time.

When I feel his gaze upon me, I lift my eyes to him again, offering a small smile. "I believe that may soothe both sides, yes." It is my turn to grow pensive in our shared companionship and I sigh against his skin. "I hope that I will be everything you hoped a mother of your children to be."

The thought of the child that grows within my body, sheltered by my love and Antares' might, bids me to brush my muzzle across the nonexistent bump in benediction. I lean against him for the comfort his warmth provides me and grow quiet for a moment, content to listen to the quiet rustling of the small animals that called our oasis home.

My mind circles back to his firstborn, and what will likely be his secondborn. The children he will likely never see again. I have wondered often if he would wish the lady Indira back with the People as their new priestess, but I had not the courage to ask. I fear it will be too painful, in different ways, for the two of us to navigate easily and in truth, I had not fully sorted out my own confused emotions. A part of me yearned to bring her home to him, to begin to mend his beautiful heart and to bring our family full circle but I also balked at it.

I do not like the idea. In fact, I find it abhorrent to welcome the woman who had known my husband before me into my household. But the idea that he may not know his second child breaks my heart. I may be unfettered by the worst of the claustrophobic traditions of my homeland, but duty to my husband is tantamount to the happiness of my home and I know it well. Antares is a king, well within his rights to make whatever demand he pleases of me, though I trust him not to.

And if I am honest, really honest, I want his child here with us. I want my son to grow up with their half-sibling, for both of them to be adored and doted upon by their fathers and uncles.

But this is not an undertaking that I can accomplish with a brother to escort me, I think. As much as the idea of sneaking away by myself terrifies me, I do not want Atair to bar me from it, or Aldebaran to look at me sideways, or Rigel to waste breath convincing me it was a bad idea. I want a chance to speak to her, woman to woman so that I may be assured of her feeling for him, of her place in our family, before I bring her home. It will need to wait until the season passes, I think. And it will need to be brief, for I know well how terribly frigid the land became in winter. But I will do it, if it might bring happiness to my beloved.

The thought of Indira brings to mind the other mares of the People that had gathered to the Dunes with us, and I turn to my beloved. I attempt to lighten the seriousness of my countenance with a smile, but my eyes are still dark with emotion as I speak. "What thoughts have you of the others that joined us here? Have any the potential of a lesser wife for you?"