Orson Card - Enchantment

All this advice—and it had told her nothing. She put it all out of her mind. Whatever it was, women managed to endure it or there'd be no children in the world. So, after listening to all the women, after watching the animals from childhood on, she could only experience for herself, when Ivan showed her, what this man did with this woman in his bed.

None of their advice applied to Ivan.

He was so gentle, whispering to her, asking her sometimes, "Is that good? Does that please you?" and other times, "You are so beautiful." Here, he would whisper, this curve, this hollow, this crest, I can't believe that I am the man who can touch this loveliness, that you're giving this to me. Unfamiliar feelings swept over her, strange changes in her body, trembling in places where she had never trembled, new tensions, new longings. He was so slow, she grew impatient. "Now," she whispered, pressing herself to him, but he answered, "Soon, not yet, soon."

"How do you know?" she asked. "You've never done this either."

"I've read books," he said, laughing softly. "I studied hard for this."

She didn't believe him at first—no one could write about this, it was far too private—and so she began to think maybe this was a kind of magic, too, that he was casting spells on her body, that he was in control of what she felt, making her body do things it had never done, could never have done before she came to his bed.

And then he told her that she was ready, and he was right. As the women had warned her, there was pain, but it was not as awful as they said, and even though it took the edge off the pleasure, it did not dull the love that swept through her. She clung to him, would not let him go when he finished, and he laughed again and held her, stroked her, as she also caressed him. Until he fell asleep. Until she also slept.

Now, remembering it in the morning, she wondered: Why did I wait? He had this gift for me all along.

But she knew the answer. She could not have received the gift until she loved him, and she could not have come to love him without seeing him first in his own world, his own family—in a place where he was a man held in respect, and not a despised stranger. His was a gift with no one fit to receive it, until now.

He stirred. Maybe he felt her gaze on him; maybe it was the change in her breathing; maybe it was a dream of her that woke him. He turned his head and saw her and searched her face. For what? It reminded her of yesterday, that awful time at the dinner table, when she waited too long to answer, when her silence shamed him in front of his parents. She would not wait today, with his gaze upon her. Instead she slid toward him, kissed him.

"I was afraid," he whispered to her.

"Of what?"

"That in the morning you'd regret what you gave to me last night."

"What did I give you, that you didn't give me ten times over?"

He held her close. "What was it that we did last night?"

"Don't you remember?"

"I didn't know even at the time. Was it a man and a woman, drawn together, body to body? Was it a princess wanting to make the baby that will carry on the dynasty? Was it a strategy, to strike the next blow against the Widow? Was it the fear of death, which came so close yesterday?"

It devastated her to know what he thought of her. That he did not understand at all.

"I've hurt you," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. All of those are good reasons, don't you see? Because no matter what you meant by it, what you have is a husband, a father for your children, as long as I'm alive. I love you, Katerina, whether you love me or not, whether you even want me or not."

She pulled him close, partly because she could see how it hurt him not to be sure of her, partly so he couldn't see her tears.

But he felt them. "No, I've made you cry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken, I'm spoiling it and all I wanted was to—"

"Hush," she said. As mothers said it to their babies, who still whimpered even after they had been given the breast to suckle on. Hush, you already have what you yearn for, so be quiet and take it and be glad. "Would it disappoint you so much, Ivan, if you were wrong, and last night meant only that a wife came to her husband, and gave herself to him for love alone?"

"I hate to be wrong," he murmured. "But I can live with it."

Esther felt the change in the house from the break of day. Even if she hadn't caught a glimpse of Katerina in Vanya's bathrobe, going from his room to the bathroom, she would have known. For the emotional wall that had so thickened the hall between their rooms was gone. The air was clear; the light danced brightly on the walls.

At breakfast Vanya and Katerina were giddy and pensive by turns. Inexplicable silences, and then laughter at anything that could remotely pass for wit. Halfway through the meal, Piotr, always dense about such things, actually sensed the change. "Is something going on that I don't know about?" Which caused another burst of laughter from the young lovers. Esther caught his eye and shook her head a little. Don't ask. I'll tell you later. And because they had been married so long, he understood. Later, when the children were out in the back yard readying the Molotov cocktails, Esther was able to satisfy Piotr's curiosity. "It's love, you old fool," she said. "Don't you remember?"

"I was never so silly about it. And besides, they've been married since before they got here."

Esther kissed him. "They've been sleeping in separate rooms, Piotr."

"Well, some people do."

"But last night they slept in the same room."

It finally dawned on him. "You mean—they haven't been sleeping together?"

"The marriage wasn't consummated until last night. And, judging from the spring in Katerina's step, this morning as well."

"Esther," Piotr said sternly. "You shouldn't be thinking that way about your own son."

"What, I'm supposed to think he found a better way to make babies?"

Piotr sighed. "So they're going to be honeymooning all day?"

"That and blowing things up. Which isn't a bad combination. You're supposed to have fireworks."

"I thought it was violins. I thought the fireworks were last night at dinner."

"Last night was two people who were fed up with not being fully committed to each other. Vanya declared his commitment to her, and she didn't answer. But I imagine she gave her answer a few hours later. Perhaps it was after Katerina and I went out in the back yard to make a few spells that she didn't know, that she might need. We were in the shed when Vanya came out in his bathrobe. I decided I wasn't needed there anymore, so I went back in the house and left them alone. Apparently she had brains enough to stay out there with him."

Piotr looked at her suspiciously. "So now I'm not supposed to think you cast some spell on them? To help them get past their... shyness, or whatever it was?"

"I don't do love potions," said Esther. "Those are never about love, they're about coercion. And besides, they already loved each other, they were just too stupid to know it."

"But you didn't do nothing" said Piotr.

"I cast a spell of Truth on the house," said Esther. "It's very simple, really. It makes people willing to act according to what they believe. To say what's in their hearts, regardless of shame. It doesn't change what they feel, what they want. It just helps... loosen them up."

"You needed magic for that? Wine has been around for centuries. In vino veritas."

Esther laughed. "The amount of wine that it would have taken to get Vanya to forget his pride and speak his heart—well, let's just say that it might not have helped him later, when they finally understood each other."

"I married a Pandarus," said Piotr.

"I don't manipulate people, Piotr. I just help them achieve their good desires."