Captive of the Horde King (Horde Kings Of Dakkar #1) - Zoey Draven Page 0,87
to ride on these damn beasts for the rest of my life.”
I laughed, but caught Mirari’s chiding look out of the corner of my eye.
“Brother,” I said, looking at him. “There’s something you should be aware of.”
“What?” he asked, frowning, adjusting again on the pyroki.
“The Dakkari are particular about names. About who knows them,” I tried to explain.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you should not use her given name for anyone’s ears,” Mirari chimed in, her tone clipped, her frown disapproving. “It is disrespectful to the Morakkari.”
Kivan’s jaw dropped as he looked from Mirari to me and back again.
“You’re joking, right?” he asked. “She’s my sister.”
“Then address her as so,” Mirari argued. “You embarrass the horde and the Vorakkar when you use her given name.”
Kivan scowled at her, “You should mind your own—”
“Enough,” I cut in, sighing. Mirari and Kivan had butted heads often during our travels, even before we’d left the camp. I didn’t know why, but it was getting tiresome.
“Luna, this is ridiculous,” Kivan argued.
Mirari’s eyes bulged in irritation and I said, before she could, “My piki is right, Brother. It is the Dakkari way. You must respect them.”
“But our way is calling someone by their name,” Kivan protested, anger flushing his cheeks. “We are not Dakkari, so why does it matter?”
“I don’t want to argue,” I said, trying to keep calm. “But you live with the horde now. You will respect them, do you understand? You may call me by my name when we are alone, but if we are not, then you will not use it.”
Kivan looked at me, his jaw clenching in frustration.
“Yes?” I said, needing to hear it.
“Fine,” Kivan said, looking towards the landscape to the left of us. Tall peaked mountains rose from the earth, more and more as we traveled south.
I sighed, exchanging a look with Mirari, before we all dropped into an uncomfortable silence. Finally, I said softly, “Are you upset with me now?”
Kivan shook his head, meeting my eyes. “No. It’s just…it’s different. Not just about the names. About you. About seeing you with him. About this all.”
I nodded, understanding what he was saying. “Sometimes different is good,” I said gently.
“I haven’t decided that yet,” he replied, stubborn as always.
Mirari made a sound in the back of her throat, like a scoff, and my brother scowled at her. They were like two petulant children with one another and I shook my head, rolling my eyes.
“What is so terrible for you?” Mirari demanded. “You are protected. You are fed. You are not dressed in those dirty rags you came in. You have your family, the Morakkari. That is the most important thing of all. Family. Yet, you complain like a spoiled youth, over and over again.”
Kivan gritted his teeth and turned away.
I cast a look at Mirari, surprised by her venom, the anger in her voice. Even Lavi, who only caught some words she recognized, looked at her with a furrowed brow.
Mirari looked down, seeming to realize that she’d gone too far. Everything she said was—to a certain extent—true, but Kivan needed time. Just like I’d needed.
“Forgive me, Missiki,” she said softly. “I did not mean…”
“Perhaps it is my brother who you should apologize to,” I said, my tone gentle. “Not me.”
Her shoulders sagged and she looked at my brother. Even though it looked like the last thing in the world she wanted to do, she forced herself to say, “Forgive me, nevretam. It is not my place to criticize you.”
Kivan looked at her, though he too seemed embarrassed by her apology.
“It is just that,” Mirari continued, looking up at me and then Lavi and then settling on my brother, “you should be grateful just to be with your family. You should not take that for granted. It is a gift.”
Kivan’s brow furrowed, sitting up straighter in his seat at her tone.
“I do not have family, you see. I have never known them, ” Mirari confessed and my heart clenched at the sadness I heard in her voice. “I was grateful when the Vorakkar accepted me into his horde, though I did not have a line, though I was simply an orphan from Dothik. I worked hard to show him I belonged and then he gives me the great honor of serving the Morakkari, though I was an outsider before.”
I frowned, reaching over to squeeze her hand, our pyrokis bumping together. I didn’t know. I didn’t know that she’d been an orphan. She’d never spoken of it.