Ancestors help her! Jayari shot him a look, caught somewhere between mortification and exasperation, but forced herself to bite her tongue. It was too late, now. He'd said the words and given her a look of his own, but she still hated this. Hated it. And she hated the way everyone was looking at her now, with shock and pity alike.
She hated feeling victimized, and she hadn't even been hurt! But they looked at her like a victim nonetheless, and she grit her teeth. She hated this. Hated accusing him of such a horrible crime, even if it was what he wanted.
Aharu looked at her, face going pale, and then at Ki'adan with fresh fury. "Is that true, Jayari?" he asked quietly, and looked at her again, softening his expression as he did. There was real worry there, and it hurt her all the more, twisted her gut up into an awful knot. Ki'adan was asking her to lie about a very real thing that happened to other people, and yet her story had been much happier. She'd wanted it. She'd loved it. It felt cheap to lie about something so real, something others in her tribe had been through, and she could practically feel the weight of her ancestors watching her and judging from the grave.
"...Y...yes," she managed to say, voice a little choked as though her very body was trying to hold back the lie. She lowered her eyes in shame, and it worked in her favor, lending credence to her acting. "He...he did..."
There. She'd said it. And there was no going back.
Her father snapped a look at Ki'adan, fire in his eyes. "Take him away," he snarled. "Geld him, cauterize it, and throw him into the field. If he tries to return, shoot him."