Page 45 of Born for Silk
“Look, it’s old practise that the larger girls carry better. But I have seen tiny things like you birth just fine. Your hips will do what they will whether you have extra meat on them or not, and if the babe has a high Xin De genus, you will not be expected to carry it to term anyway. It will be incubated when it grows too large for your womb. The Revive was meant to balance the differences between our kinds and stop the species conflict, which is why more Silk Girls like you are arising. The Xin De genes are recessive; you must have read this in your studies. But—” She takes a big breath. “Some are opposed to The Revive. They want purity. After all, Xin De were masterfully designed to survive. It’s in a Xin De Lord’s best interest to pick a girl who has some traits, height, strength, flesh armour, the nictitating membrane, the film in the nostrils. Do you have any of these?”
I shake my head.
“I didn’t think so. But you’re a sight, Aster.” She smiles widely. “Really, really, lovely to look at. You’ll be picked quickly because they won’t be able to take their eyes off you.”
She’s just being nice.
“I agree,” Paisley says from the corner.
“What if no one wants me?” I ask Island as I dress, sliding my leg into the fabric holes. “What happens?”
“There are five lords and five Silk Girls.”
And that is her answer. One of them will get stuck with me, whether they want me or not. She starts to fuss around with my clothing, a mother duck plucking duckling feathers.
A few moments later, I am dressed.
Dressed but not at all prepared.
“Don’t worry, Aster. I’ve seen you move. You’re lovely. Slow. Sultry. That’s the ballerina training.” Paisley looks at Island. “And her eye contact?—”
“Yes,” Island agrees, “her eye contact is some of the best I have seen in a new Silk Girl.”
I bounce my gaze between them, utterly overwhelmed by the subject.
“Remember,” she purrs, “you have other body parts, too.”
Island steps to my back and starts on my hair. “Far more interesting than big breasts and round hips.”
I blink ahead. “Like what?”
A corner of Paisley’s mouth curves. “Like your lips.”
“Eat fruit,” Island adds quickly.
I cannot keep up. “Are you sure?” I look up, and Island leans to make eye contact with me while she pins my hair into a soft, loose bun on the back of my crown.
She looks like my Rapport after a feed, all teeth and cunning excitement. “Eat fruit while you look at the lords. Fruit is juicy. It’ll slide down your lips.”
My face flushes.
“Oooh, yes,” Paisley gushes softly. “Don’t wipe it off straight away, make sure they see.”
“You cannot speak unless spoken to”—Island moves to stand before me. She lifts my chin and begins to paint my lips with a soft red blush while she says, “You cannot approach them or touch them, and you must be appropriately dressed, but you can eat and gaze at them.”
“I can’t,” I begin.
“It’s in your Trade to seduce, Aster. Make one of them want you. This is for The Cradle. You remember your vows?” Paisley approaches me, smoothing a piece of my hair into place. “That part about your irresistibility? And erm, staying in his…”
“His mind’s eye,” I finish, all this sinking, pressing down, like a weighted boulder of expectation.
Dammit. This is a lot.
I close my eyes and see the erotic image of the girl with the Xin De man thrusting into her. I place my face over hers; a shiver rushes through me. Then the man’s face becomes my king’s; I know it so well. Each piece: the scar on his lip, the predatorial blue gaze. He is every inch Xin De.
I wonder whether the other girls imagine it’s him each time they spread their legs. That’s the design, right? To have us all obsessed with him. It’s why his picture hangs in the Silk House, why we know every inch of his face.
Despite never knowing whether we are the one he chooses or not, we care for him, in turn, for The Cradle.