Blackwater Islands so a consort and a harlot walk into a bar

The surrender of Whip into Kalika's embrace gave her a feeling of empowerment and pride, though this was clouded by the pity she felt for the consort. They were like children, Gabe and Whip; naive and helpless, constantly searching for the guidance of the Sirens. She was glad that she hadn't been born in the same position as they had been, as there was no real purpose for a male's life outside of pleasing the wishes of the Daughters.

You are a protector, first and foremost, Kalika began. She figured that most unbroken males thought that this duty was bestowed upon them due to their natural advantages and she would play along with this concept, rather than admitting that it was because of the expendability of their sex. Each Siren may have her own requests, though mine are a bit more personal. Can I trust you? As the words fell from Kalika's maw, a strange air of mock weakness came about her, as if to imply that this was a secret for just the two of them.