The Crow God's Girl by Patrice Sarath

Kate tried to concentrate, willing Callia to stop. The midwife, however, was unstoppable. “You best marry your two off, Lady Beatra, or yon maid will be big for her wedding night.” She lay a finger next to her nose.
    Kate knew what Callia was trying to do, to make her betrothal a done deal, but she wished the woman would just keep out of it. She risked a sidelong glance at Lady Beatra. Colar’s mother had a strained expression, although her hands kept moving. All the other women were looking at Lady Beatra as well; interesting, Kate thought, that Thani sneered and so did Samar. But the latter could have been because of the history between her and Callia.
    “Mama, will Kett and Colar have lots of babies when they’re married?” Eri asked.
    “With the blessing of the grass god’s daughter, they will,” Lady Beatra said, but her voice was carefully neutral. “Don’t you think so, Kett?”
    “I think so, ma’am,” Kate said, her voice equally careful. Now was not the time to declare her desire to be childless, or at least have as few as possible. Like one, maybe.
    “You are an only child, are you not?” said Samar in her dry voice. “Did your mother lose many babes before quickening?”
    “Samar!” the women cried, shocked.
    Unruffled, the housekeeper said, “Callia must know. Often the daughter bears children as her mother did.”
    Lady Beatra and her housekeeper exchanged long looks but Lady Beatra said only, “Samar is right. It is good to know.”
    “Um,” Kate said, her voice a little rough. “My mother had only me. She and my father married late by–by Aeritan standards. They were both thirty-five. And my mother waited a few more years before getting pregnant.”
    And after she did, she got pre-eclampsia, and had to be rushed to the hospital six weeks early, her blood pressure so high, the story went, that as the doctor began the emergency c-section, her mother’s blood shot straight up and spattered the lights in the operating room.
    And Kate would deliver her babies by the will of the grass god’s daughter and a drunken midwife.
    “Wait,” said Thani, maliciously. “Your mother and father did not lie together for years after they were wed?” Her eyes were bright, as if she were imagining the gossip she would bring to the servants ’ quarters.
    Kate felt anger rise in her and when she spoke her voice was deliberate. “My mother and father used birth control, Thani. Where I come from, women don’t have to have baby after baby. We can choose when we want to have children.”
    The room plunged into utter silence. Kate looked from one to the other. Some of the women were shocked, but she noted the considering looks on the face of Lady Beatra and a few of the villagers.
    “Is this another story?” asked one, hope in her voice. Kate shook her head. She dredged up a bit of information from the sex ed books her mother had left on her desk when she was a kid. “They’re called condoms. I think they used to be made from sheep intestines. Men put them on their, um, penises.”
    She could feel her face burning. Callia cackled. “That’s a Brythern trick! No shy maid here, Lady Beatra. She’ll keep your son happy, no mistake.”
    She as good as told Colar’s mother that I’m not a virgin. Lovely. With a sinking heart, Kate turned toward Lady Beatra, who was looking extraordinarily uncomfortable. “I haven’t–I mean, I’m not–” She gave up. “Where I come from, women don’t have to have babies until they want to.”
    “Children come through the grass god’s daughter, whether a mother will or no,” Lady Beatra said. “You cannot say no to such a gift, child, not and have the favor of the woman’s god.”
    “It’s not that I don’t want children,” Kate said, desperate to explain. “I just want to be able to choose when I have them.”
    “It is not your choice to make, Kett.”
    The other women watched them. Even Callia fell silent.
    It used to be my choice and I lost that