With each word that the flaxen-haired beauty utters, the more Rehoboam comes to understand the events that had led to her current situation. To this point, he'd been mildly surprised to find her so rational and even-minded after the tales of her viciousness and cruelty had been so widely spread. But as he needles and her hackles raise, he begins to understand the monster that everyone else sees. The one who cannot look upon anyone else with understanding, let alone empathy. The queen who had taken the slights against her and transformed them into rivalries that existed only in her mind.
I would have kept my big feet out of other herd's business, she grumbles, as if he hadn't just finished explaining
why it had been his father's business in the first place. Siobhan, perhaps, had not been his to avenge, but Wren most certainly had been. His taunting had had the desired effect though, and with his nails dug firmly beneath her armor, he kept pulling.
The naming of Siobhan seemed to have done the most damage, and he watched the last remaining flicker of light in her eyes go dark as she snarled out a response. He still had no true understanding of why Nyimara hated the quiet little red mare, but it was evident enough that it was a deep and long-standing loathing. Clearly, something had happened between the two of them that was unforgivable to the pale-haired beauty, although whether such a thing had happened in the real world or only in Nyimara's mind was now up for debate.
He was certain at this point that the Dunes Queen could not hear herself. She, who had spent the better part of the last few minutes lecturing him on what had been taken from her, was now going on at length about what she wished to take from the world. Rehoboam didn't know if she'd been born this damaged or if a man was responsible, but either way he was growing increasingly uneasy as she ramped up the level of insanity in their conversation. Focused as he had been on getting to her, he hadn't fully prepared himself for her wild, retaliatory swings and the force of her words thudded solidly into his sides, impossible to ignore.
Give her his child? Surely the bitch wasn't serious. After this whole boastful lecture about how important her children were to her, she would dare to try and take his children from
him?
Worse still, was that for a moment, he considered it. Life in the Lagoon had forced him to think logically, rather than emotionally. It had forced him to weigh the pros and cons of maintaining a moral high ground against the pros and cons of earning the respect of his brethren. Forced him to raid and force claim, among other things he was less proud of. In the end, was the sacrifice of a child all that different?
But what child?
The only one he was certain of was Celestine's, and hers only because he had been close to her after the incident and had witnessed her heat fading. But of Shenzi? Of Titania?
A
child.
Self-loathing rose up in his gut at the prospect of trading away any of his children and the memory of growing up abandoned by his mother resurfaced. How different would he have been if it had been Nyimara raising him and not Eve? How could he even consider doing something to a child whose existence he had created?
The taunting that followed didn't bother him nearly so much as she probably thought it would. She wasn't the first to poke fun at his celibacy and she wouldn't be the last, but her terms had knocked the breath from his lungs and the strength from his legs.
"No. Need." He sputtered from between clenched teeth, his jaw taut with anger.
"I've had my share." Shenzi's face swam in his mind, as did the memory of the connection between the scarred Barb and this witch. What would Nyimara do if she ever learned that Shenzi might actually carry his firstborn? That she might be demanding the life of Shenzi's child? The feeling of the fierce little warrioress' body against his, their blood and the sweat mixing as they found the one language that they both knew how to speak rose in his mind and he fed from the memory: stealing the tension and threading it through his muscles, borrowing the ferocity and letting it gape his jaws wide as he dove for Nyimara.