Page 80 of Null & Void

With my face and neck inspected, he begins massaging under my arms and breasts. Tovi’s breath hitches, and I look over to her and mouth, “It’s okay.” She’s not convinced. Hysteria tickles my throat. It’s the second time I’ve mouthed those words in as many hours.

After inspecting every inch of my skin, which unfortunately also involves my clothes being cut from me, I lay completely naked. I’m okay. Tovi is not. He hasn’t even inspected her yet, and the tears are tracking down her face, eyes closed.

My body has not been my own for a long time, if it ever was. This healer’s inspection barely registers compared to other violations inflicted upon me over the years. Perhaps I’m more broken than I thought. Empty and hollow.

“I’ll be right back,” the healer says, not looking at either of us as he dips out the door.

Deciding this wouldn’t be an unusual thing to say if we are being eavesdropped on, I risk it. “Tovi. We can do this. It’s clinical—” Tovi cuts me a look, shaking her head. “—and I’ll be here with you the whole time.”

The healer comes back with what looks like a torture device, and my rage responds. Angry flutters beat against my ribs as he washes his hands again. He gives me a small—not unkind—smile as he spreads my legs apart and uses the device to inspect me more thoroughly between my legs. It’s uncomfortable, and had Tovi not been here, I might have made it more difficult for him just for the sake of it.

“You’re all done. There’s a set of clothes here for each of you. Do I need to get a guard while you get dressed?”

I shake my head and he undoes my bindings. Tovi has begun to pant, the anticipation that her turn is next is overwhelming her.

“Can I…can I hold her hand while you inspect her?” I plead softly, before grabbing my clothes. I open my mouth to plead more as I dress, but he agrees, and I snap my mouth shut.

I’m dressed in plain cotton underwear and a set of light gray silky pajamas. I wish I could have bathed first. The pants are cuffed at the calf, and the shirt is short-sleeved. Another set is ready for Tovi. The healer has waited for me to get dressed, busying himself washing his hands and the torture—inspection—device.

Tovi’s eyes are pleading with me, and I give her a small smile. “It’s not too bad. He’s gentle.”

He inspects her face and neck first, the same way he did with me. I hold her hand, and she grips me fiercely every time he touches her. I note that he’s touching her less, instructing her verbally more, and only touching her when he has to. His voice is softer as he speaks to her, and he pauses every time her panic looks about to overwhelm her. For all he’s not Gifted, he seems to be in tune with her emotions.

He’s tall, as all Erduborn are—even taller than Beans—probably close to seven feet. He’s older than us, maybe late thirties, with a few creases around his eyes that suggest he likes to smile. His hair is a dark brown, almost black, and kept a similar length to my own. Typical Erduborn brown eyes of the earth against tanned skin, closer to caramel in color than olive. He isn’t unattractive, and his soft demeanor only helps.

The healer warns her when he has to start inspecting her physically. And then he asks her whether she would like to remove her clothes instead of them being cut off. She nods. He allows her to be unbound at the arms to undress her top half, herself.

Once he inspects her top half, he gestures gently to the silky pajamas while looking at me. I hand them to Tovi to dress her top half before she undresses her lower half. I stand over her while he inspects the rest before he gets to the internal exam. She stares at me, and I hold her gaze for as long as I can. But inevitably, the repulsive strain becomes too much, and I look away. And I hate myself that I can’t even help her with something as simple as eye contact.

She hisses and lets out a shuddering breath, and he apologizes while doing the internal exam. It wasn’t painful, it’s definitely uncomfortable and invasive, but not painful. He doesn’t linger, only doing the barest of inspections before removing the tool that allows him to see inside. He nods to me, indicating I can give her the pants now.

With his back to us, he washes the gloves and tool while humming to himself softly. And—I realize—he is giving Tovi more time to regain her composure. Her breathing is still erratic, and a sob escapes periodically. Once she sounds calmer, he returns and sits in a chair facing us. His brow furrows as he writes something in a folder in his lap.

His dense, almost black beard is kept short. His nose is slightly hooked, and he has a broad mouth with full lips—lips that he chews on every now and then.

“What’re your names?” he asks us, catching me studying him.

“Mika.” I wait for Tovi to offer her name, but after a moment when it’s clear she isn’t going to, I answer for her. “And this is Tovi. What’s your name?”

“Otto,” he says with a smile, which reaches his eyes. The reason for those creases.

Otto blows out a breath, reading his notes, and then studies Tovi for a moment before giving me a sympathetic look. My rage—which I hadn’t even realized was asleep—perks up a little. Does he have bad news?

“You’re both in perfect health,” he says, then leans forward to whisper with an exaggerated grimace. “Unfortunately.”

Tovi snaps her eyes up at him then, finally looking at him for the first time since he walked in.

He continues. “You’re both healthy enough to be Royal doxies. And as you’re both Patrons, I don’t have to warn you to drink the tea to prevent pregnancy. I do, however, have a different kind of tea. If you need it. Ofori…” He looks at both of us to see if we recognize it. I do, but Tovi doesn’t.

“It makes you…care less, Tovi,” I say, nodding to him in thanks. With the way she’s behaving, it would be odd if we didn’t accept the tea, even though we won’t actually need it.

“You usually get an hour or two warning. That should be enough time to drink the tea. Even cold-brewed, it’ll be effective,” Otto adds, getting up to search cupboards, grunting as he digs around. When he finds it, he holds it out to Tovi, who doesn’t take it, and then hands it to me instead.

“Do you two need more time…before…” he says softly, gesturing to the door.

“Tovi?”

“No. Let’s go,” she says with a detached voice that sends a chill into my bones. Somehow, she is looking stronger than I’ve seen in days.

---