“Gods cracked, Freyrík, they would have raped me!” He surged forward so suddenly Freyrík flinched and tripped away. “And no, I did not incite or invite their attentions. It is your people who paint me like a harlot and parade me round half-naked, your people who find it amusing to use my brethren like toys, your people who teach their children such high art of disrespect that boys think raping in packs a pleasant pastime!”
Freyrík took a single step forward, froze. Then said something so soft and terrible Ayden could scarcely fathom it: “Would it truly have been so unbearable?”
Oh. My. God.