Bilgewater Baptism

Delaeni's eyes flickered open at his command, the dull embers of her fear now reignited under his scrutiny. Her breath hitched in her chest as his grip tightened around her chin, his fingers digging into her skin. She tried to hold his gaze, but her vision wavered, the edges of her world darkening. A thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, pooling on the ground beneath her, and for a moment she tasted iron. “S-sir,” she managed, her voice raspy from exhaustion and fear. A sense of dread washed over her as he continued to scrutinize her, each word tumbling from his lips only serving to steep her further in despair. "I...I ap-p-ologize…" She stuttered, her words coming out small and feeble. For what, she didn't know. What else could she say? What else did he want to hear from her? Her chest heaved with effort, each breath she drew sounding more laborious than the last. The words hung heavily in the air between them, a futile attempt at appeasing the brute looming above her.

She was on the verge of a breakdown, as he challenged her. Implying that submission was not what he wanted from her? But how could that possibly be? He had forced her into submission, had he not? Delaeni was at a loss, struggling to comprehend what the man in front of her intended. His expression was unreadable, his gaze inscrutable. He seemed to be searching for something in her eyes, some hidden truth or revelation that she was unaware of. Was it defiance he wanted? Rebellion? An escape attempt? It was unfathomable. “T-the Sultan desires s-sub-mission. Tthat’s what we’re- I mean, Sidi are taught.” There would certainly be consequences if she argued. But wasn’t he prompting her for a response? She couldn’t tell. And she hated that feeling of uncertainty.

"Delaeni Terblanche"