the platters and pop them into their mouths. Cries of delight rose as they socialized with one another in a language I could not understand.
“No,” I said. “You know—”
“The horde will think it an insult if you do not,” he said. “You will eat.”
My shoulders sagged. It was one thing to refuse food in the privacy of the tent. But if I was going to be by Arokan’s side, I couldn’t disrespect his people. Not tonight.
“I will send a gift to your village,” he said next, making me gasp and turn to look at him. “Three bveri. That will be enough meat to feed them for months, if they dry it properly. If you eat from this moment forward, not just tonight, no more fighting me, I will do this.”
“Really?” I said softly.
He inclined his head. “Lysi.”
Relief so potent that it made tears sting my eyes overwhelmed me. This was a step in the right direction, evidence that the horde king could help my village.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He regarded me with those yellow eyes. His tail, which had tucked to the side when he sat down, came up to wrap around my knee, the gold cuffs lining it chilly against my skin.
Slowly, I relaxed. As relaxed as I possible could be during a Dakkari marriage celebration with my breasts out, of course. Blowing out a small breath, my gaze darted over the forming crowd, noticing that many had their eyes on us. But just like on the pyroki, they averted their eyes whenever I made contact with them.
Other than my piki, other than Arokan, I hadn’t held anyone’s gaze for longer than a couple seconds at camp. Even Lavi didn’t look at me for long.
Arokan seemed content to simply watch his people. His features were carefully schooled into an unreadable expression. Though his muscles were loose, his gaze was observant. Always aware…always ready. I wondered if he ever relaxed.
Soon, we were approached by a female, bearing a serving platter. She waited at the base of the dais until Arokan inclined his head and then she ascended the steps. She deposited a tray laden with food and drinks, which she perched on the wide arm of the throne.
With a bow, she turned and went back into the throng of the crowd below.
Arokan lifted a goblet made of white bone to my lips. “Drink,” he ordered.
I did. Whatever the liquid was burned down the back of my throat and made my eyes water, though I fought valiantly not to hack it back up. I thought I caught his lips curl before he took a long swallow from it himself and returned it to the tray.
Next he lifted a braised piece of meat—bveri meat, I assumed, though I didn’t know what kind it was—and I opened my lips at his beckoning.
My eyes widened when the flavor of it burst on my tongue. Rich and fatty and so tender that it seemed to melt in my mouth. I’d never had fresh meat before. Years ago, we’d received dried jerky in our rations, sourced from animals residing on other planets, but we’d never hunted on Dakkar, in fear of retribution.
Arokan was watching me. Once I swallowed, I was silent for a moment, processing that something could taste like that, and then said, “I’ve never had fresh meat before.”
Something flashed in his gaze, his brows and lips pulling downwards.
“You will have fresh meat every day now,” was all he replied, though his voice was gruffer than it’d been a moment before.
“When you…” I started. “When you give my village the meat, they won’t know how to dry it.”
Arokan’s jaw clenched. “I will have my pujerak give them instructions.”
“Your pujerak?” I asked.
He tilted his head to one of the far tables. There I saw the Dakkari male that had come with Arokan to my village, the messenger, who’d first spoken with me in the universal tongue.
“My second-in-command,” Arokan replied.
I nodded, biting my lip. He was being…sweet. He was being kind and truthfully, I didn’t know how to take it. I felt more at ease with him when we were fighting.
We lapsed into a strange silence as the drums grew louder and louder, as the feast continued. Arokan continued to feed me morsels from the large selection on the tray, in between taking some for himself. But soon, my belly was full of soft braised meat and simmered roots and tart fruits that made my lips pucker.
Not to mention the fermented drink that made my head swim pleasantly,