Re: The Cat: Rae and Kratos
Which would doubtless have been a relief to most, if not all women seated opposite. But it was a pity, really. Mass murder hit a certain pitch-point that left Rae slaked far better than a score of prostitutes in a small bedroom-community on the outskirts of town. She was never more honest than when she professed to be more than childbirth and sex: mass murder sadly, was rarely anyone's inclination in middle America. Mexico had been a joy, albeit a savage one. If you followed the right thread, and Rae was past-mistress of pulling threads and finding them unravel beautifully.
But mass murder aside, she had her doubts about anyone married to old Norse. It would have been poetic something if he'd married one of their number. Rae wasn't sure many of them could have children, let alone have them and die somewhere far off, where they spoke ancient Greek. No, old Norse was one thing, god-hood was another and now her curiosity was pierced: she'd rather like to see the boy, after all. The eleven year old who wasn't half.
He paused as if he knew something she didn't. Rae loathed secrets, particularly hers, held away from her. She deliberately didn't reach for the truth of family she didn't claim, men she'd never fucked, children she'd never borne. Fate could hang itself, and her face closed off very briefly as he stated her womanhood as proof positive she was meant to conceive.
"It means nothing." She was airily confident. "A woman can manage entirely satisfactorily without children, darling."