The General - S01 E47

5 months ago

The General - S01 E47

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 47

I feel stupid as I stand there. Stupid and confused, because I thought War came after me because he wanted me beside him again. I was wrong. He only wanted me to be safe under his watch.

I don't like that, although it only makes sense. The man can't chase after me forever. There's a point when he'll lose interest because there're dozens of other women after him.

With my tail tucked between my legs, I go into my tent and find it a mess. Rain poured in from a hole and damaged my bed. There's also a pile of leaves in the corner, where I suspect Yippy created a nest. I'll have to find him later and make sure he's okay.

With a sigh, I clean up the mess. It thankfully doesn't take all evening.

I slip into a new dress, my old one sweaty. My shower will have to wait until after I see the Healer.

I head toward the entrance of my tent, but then I stop. I realize I haven't mentally prepared for the outcome of my visit.

If it's positive— well, War would probably come running to me. He's a protector, and he'd be attached to my hip if I was carrying his child. It would be an instant solution to his newfound distance. He would overlook all of my mistakes.

But I don't want to win him back that easily. That's the weak way, and I'm done being weak.

So I hope the test is negative.

I walk outside. It smells like smoke. The kitchens are in full blast as food is prepared for the Masters that have arrived back to camp. They're hungry after the drama they were dragged into.

"Healer?" I call out.

"Yes, come in."

I duck my head into his tent and locate him sitting on his chair. He's writing on a scroll with his ink pen, distracted.

"Hello. Are you busy?"

"No. What do you need?"

"I need a test... a pregnancy test."

That grabs his attention. He drops his pen, creating a blotch of ink on his paper.

"It is you again. Back in my tent." His eyes narrow. "As you might already know, girl, The Masters take a pill to prevent attachment and impregnation. It is unlikely you are carrying."

"Can you just check? Please?"

He makes a sound at the back of his throat, but rummages through the translucent jars on his shelves. He reaches for the very top— where the jars are full to the top with liquids, dried leaves, and powders. I guess those don't get used very often.

He picks a jar full with a lavender powder and removes the lid. After sniffing it, he mutters something along the lines of "still fresh." Then he looks at me. "Come on now, smell this. If you have any reaction, then you are most definitely carrying. Pregnant women cannot stand the smell of Tukastik."

A knot forms in my hopefully empty belly, but I step forward. I remind myself to breathe as I close my eyes and lean down. I inhale deeply. It smells like a seasoning often used in the kitchen— spicy, but not disgusting. I have no urge to gag or jump away from the jar.

I am empty of oxygen, joy, and of War.

"There. See? Nothing," The Healer taunts.

Malik was incorrect. I knew he was, but I came just in case.

I walk out of the tent feeling disappointing relief— a paradox if I've ever seen one. I'm emotionally tired, but I'm not going to lie in bed all day.

Things will change today.