“In some ways,” the therapist said calmly, “it would be easier if you were still being abused. Instead, the only ongoing abuse is that you can’t leave.” She looked at Rensa with a considering gaze.
“But I don’t want to leave Yannic,” protested Rensa, “I…like him, a lot, and I want to have this baby and more after this one.”
“But you’re afraid someone will take the babies away from you?”
“Apparently,” she sighed. “In my dreams, anyway.”
“Pregnant women do, occasionally, develop some odd ideas,” allowed the therapist, “so in this case we need to be able to determine whether it’s that or something more akin to a disease state. Have you ever talked to anyone about your experiences on the day the Palace was sacked or on your pilgrimage?”
“A little, only to skim over it really. The only people for me to talk to are Yannic’s cousin Mirren or people who were there.” Rensa paused, “The ones who were there know and I don’t want to upset Mirren by telling her what her friends did that day.”
“So, there’s no-one you can talk to about these things?” The therapist made some notes on her clipboard, “Have you considered developing other friendships?”
“I don’t meet other people on a regular basis, not to talk to freely.” Rensa shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“I think we may need to change that,” said the therapist briskly. “Now, what were your interests before the regime changed?”
“My accounting, financial and economic studies, oh and reading.” Rensa added, “I would have liked to have tried more handiwork, but materials were usually in short supply.”
“And what would you like to do now, if there were no constraints on your behaviour? If you didn’t have to be Empress?” The therapist smiled encouragingly.
Rensa thought for a moment and asked, “Could I still be married to Yannic?”