Goddess Tricked Me into a Breeding Mission (And I Love It)

The house felt wrong the moment Selene stepped inside.

Not wrong in any way, she could point to exactly. The hallway looked the same. The floor was swept. The curtains were pulled back the way they always were in the morning. But John’s coat wasn’t on the hook, and his boots weren’t by the door, and the faint smell of morning incense that had been part of waking up in this house for as long as she could remember wasn’t there.

He was gone. Left before sunrise, from what Sara had heard.

Selene stood in the hallway for a moment, then let out a slow breath and went to find Helga.

-----

She was in the kitchen. As she always used to be, most of the time.

She was moving between the counter and the stove with the careful, measured steps. Her left side was worse; the bruising had deepened since last night, dark purple spreading under her eye and along her jaw. Her hair was pinned back, and her apron was tied as she was stirring something on the mana-stove like it was any other morning for her.

"Oh, Lady Selene, you’re back earlier than I expected," Helga said, without turning around.

"He isn’t here," Selene said.

"No." Helga kept stirring. "I heard the door before sunrise."

Selene pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down. The table was the same one they had eaten breakfast at together for eleven years, just the two of them most mornings while John was at prayers or meetings or whatever else filled his mornings. The wood of the table was worn smooth at the edges from use.

"Sit down," Selene said. "I’ll do that."

"It’s okay. I’m fine."

"Helga."

Helga set the spoon down and came to the table. She lowered herself into the chair across from Selene with the controlled care of someone managing something painful without wanting to discuss it. She folded her hands on the table and looked at Selene the way she had always looked at her, steady, patient, not asking for anything.

The kitchen smelled of woodsmoke and the dried herb bunches hanging from the ceiling beams. Thyme, mostly. A little rosemary, too. It had smelled exactly this way for as long as Selene could remember.

"How bad is it?" Selene asked her about the wounds.

"The ribs are bruised. Not broken, I think." Helga said it the way she said most things, as a fact to be processed, not a complaint to be responded to. "My face just looks worse than it feels. So, don’t worry too much about it."

"That isn’t true."

They sat for a while without talking. Outside noise could be heard from here, as the village was going on as usual, a cart going by somewhere down the lane, someone calling across a fence, ordinary sounds that had no idea what they were intruding on.

They talked, eventually, not about John. They just talked around him the way they had always talked around him. Today, more than other days, through the small practical things that made up the texture of years in this house.

They talked about the shutter in the back hallway that had needed rehanging since spring. The pantry running low on salt, whether the herb bunches need replacing before winter. Helga had opinions about all of it, the same measured, useful opinions she always had, and Selene listened and responded with nods or added something here and there.

At some point, Selene said, "Why did you stay?"

Helga twisted her brow, "Huh, what?"

"You know, after yesterday’s beating. Shouldn’t you go to your village, where you’re from?"

Helga looked at her hands on the table. "You know why."

"I want to hear you say it."

Helga was quiet for a moment. Not hesitating, just deciding how to say it plainly. "You were eight years old when I came here," she said. "Your mother had been gone for two years back then, and you were still waiting for someone to tell you it was going to be alright." She looked up at Selene directly. "Although I was very young back then, I still had to fill your mother’s place. So, how can I just leave now, Selene? Even if you are not here, I won’t let your memories here be buried alive. I had lost my own family before the curse had even hit. And now that I’m past the marriage age, where would I even go, leaving this place?" She said this while looking directly at Selene’s eyes.

Even though Selene felt like crying after hearing this, she didn’t cry. The habit of not crying in this house was too old, too structural, it had calcified into something that felt like part of how she was built now. But something moved through her face that she couldn’t keep entirely still, and Helga saw it, but said nothing about it, which was the kindest thing she could have done.

Selene looked at her for a long moment after she finished talking. Then she said, "You what, just come with me."

Helga blinked with confusion. "What?"

"To Lys’s house. Pack whatever you need and come with me." Selene kept her voice even. "You just said it yourself, right? That you have nowhere to go. So come with me. You can stay with me."

Helga stared at her. "Umm, Lady Selene, I..."

"Lys won’t mind. I know he won’t. Believe me."

"You don’t know that. You’ve been engaged to the man for less than a day."

"I know enough." Selene leaned forward slightly, trying to make her point. "You said you stayed for me, right? Well, I’m leaving. So come with me. Let’s stay together."

Helga shook her head. "Even if you say that, I can’t just walk into that man’s house uninvited and expect..."

"I’m inviting you."

"You don’t own the house."

"So what!" Selene’s voice came out sharper than she intended. She pulled it back. "I’m not leaving you here alone. Not with him, after he beat you like this."

"He won’t beat me again, don’t worry about that."

"That was before last night." Selene held her eyes. "It’s different now, and you know it. I testified against him in front of everyone. You think he’s going to just let everything stay the same like before? He’ll surely take it out on you."

Helga’s jaw shifted. She looked at the table, trying to find ways to reject her proposal.

She stayed quiet for a long stretch. Her eyes stayed on the table, moving over the worn grain of the wood like she was reading something written there. Then she exhaled slowly through her nose.

"Okay, let me think about it," she said. "You go first. I’ll think about it and come after, if I decide to."

Selene opened her mouth to say something.

"I mean it," Helga said, before she could argue. "I’m not saying no. I’m saying, let me think." She finally looked up. "You still need to pack your things. Go do that. I’ll be here."

Selene looked at her for a moment longer, then pushed her chair back and stood. She knew that tone Helga was using. Pushing further wasn’t going to move Helga any faster than Helga intended to move now. So she picked up her empty cup from the table, set it by the stove, and turned toward the hallway.

She was two steps out of the kitchen when a voice came from behind them both.

"Who is going where?"

Selene stopped walking like she heard a ghost’s voice.

She looked toward the front door, which was wide open, and John was standing in the hallway, coat still on, one hand resting on the doorframe. His eyes moved from Selene to Helga, then back to Selene. His expression was calm, yet it made both Selene and Helga’s faces sweat on their own

Author note: There are character arts available for all the major characters on my Patreon page. Some are posted for free, too. You can just visit there and scroll down to check them. Link is below.