I watch in stunned disbelief as the entire sordid tale spills from Rigel's lips, the words in their number blending and blurring together until they cease to have any meaning at all. I know, in my heart of hearts, that I should be happy for them. Their new beginning, the love that they have found, the twins that they share. The very idea that my twin brothers would both go on to grow our family with another set of twins should make me delighted. That I should feel safe in taking joy in their happiness, but I cannot quell the stone of doubt that sits heavy in my belly, reminding me again and again of all the way sI have failed them as their Mira.
I came to my position out of love for my Beloved. As much as royalty was a part of my blood, it was royalty of a much different make than that which came from standing at the side of a Sheik, separated from tradition and reason and everything I had once come to know. My first months here had been spent nearly attached to Rigel in an attempt to absorb everything that I must know as their Mira, but as the sadness of failure grew in my chest, my memory of those lessons grew dim. More and more often I took refuge in watching our daughter grow, to the point of shunning any other responsibility that should have brought me away from our oasis. Naz, too, seemed to feel my pain and shied rightly away from it, tending to duties that I did not know.
She begged of me once, to agree to something she could not name and I had agreed, placing all of my trust in her. The reality of that which I had agreed to, the momentous nature of what I had blindly permitted, filled me with further unease. Had it not been to Rigel's advantage for me to remain oblivious to the truth, I am certain he would have scolded me for my inaction. Had it been any of his other brothers, Rigel would not have hesitated to expound upon all the ways in which the customs he relied upon were now in disarray.
I had failed them. And now, to keep the peace, I must bend once more to appease those around me.
It was starkly apparent to me that I was no longer fit for my role. Even as my brother pontificates on what he had done -- the ways in which he had bent laws and fate to serve him at the expense of everyone around him -- I find myself counting the ways in which I had failed them. I had It hurts more than I can bear to admit to see the way that Naz looks to Rigel for support now, not to me.
Once again I am alone in this strange place, tethered to strange customs of which I can never possibly hope to know enough about to make a difference. Not for the first time, I almost wish to be back home, in the cloying but familiar rules of my family. Now, I am bound to the laws to which I had agreed upon in an effort to be everything to my beloved, and yet I remain oblivious to them. Even now, as Rigel stands before me, clearly waiting for something I do not know how to give, I stand mute. I do not have the words that he wants. I do not know the phrases that will offer him absolution. I have only doubt, and an ingrained instinct to yield to the males in my life for guidance. I turn to my husband now, my ears tipped back, and gesture gently to him. I am not sure which gods I should even be referencing now - is this one Bast? Or Moloch? Maybe Kotharat?
I lower my head deferentially as I finish. Even as I say the words, I know that Antares will not punish me. He can see nothing but the sun beneath my feet, despite the sandstorm that trails in my wake. His faith in me does nothing to appease the guilt in my stomach, and it boils uncomfortably as I take my escape in guilt.