[+MATURE Grapefruit]The Day the World Ends

Novella flinched, as the dagger was dug into the wood beside of her head. She could practically smell the metal. And despite everything — all of her training — she still flinched. Our family. Our child. Our slaves. You told me once, what's yours is also mine. Though, her thoughts still wander back to the harsh words her wife had let slip; how their daughter would present with magic and be a useful member of society because of it.

In the next moment; when she was told to shut up, she bit her lip. The two of them were still newly-weds; their honeymoon period ruined by an early pregnancy and betrayal. Neither of them knew the other; and Kaczor knew even less of the real Novella, than she suspected. Something in her, too used to following orders, keeps her silent.

At least until the blade's removed from the wall. Pressed to her wife's throat, deep enough to draw blood. Kaczor's asking for a reason—no amount of training would have prepared Ella for this. She was staring at her wife, fingers curling into fists behind of her back.

Kaczor— She stumbled over her words, You were gone. And I'd tried, I begged them to let me recant... the best I could do, was get leeway so that I wouldn't be alone when the baby came. That was why they'd come, as soon as they'd confirmed the child's birth. It was either that or turn myself-in-as-an-enemy-of-the-state. Her words are rushed, tumbling into each other, overlapping.

And there are no second chances. Not for me. And yet, her desperation in this moment was over the fact her wife was holding a dagger to her own throat. I'm here because... a wise man once told me, to always keep my eye on retirement.

She bit her lip. Internally, debating if she wanted to retire with a spouse that acted out this way. But something wasn't right; something about this didn't feel right. None of the files she'd read on Kaczor, mentioned a possession, but she knew she had to have one; all mages had one. I want my daughter to have a better life, especially if she's like me. I'm here because I want to help. One hand reached out, fingers curling around the other's wrist.

Stop this. You're going to get blood on Annie. Her voice cracked, as she said the child's name. Still quiet, still fast asleep. Safe despite her parents' arguing, the desperation in her mother's voice.