I didn’t want to have a moment in front of the Kardoval, but
stars… never mind. I wasn’t going to ignore this need to touch Garjah for them
or anyone. I slid one hand across his far cheek, turning his head toward me,
then pulled him down for a brief kiss. As hard as it was to resist, I didn’t part
my lips and drink in his scent to taste him further. This was enough.
A flurry of movement and murmurs broke through my distraction.
I leaned away from Garjah. He blinked at me several times, and I waited for him
to get upset. He didn’t; I should have known better. Garjah picked up my fork
from where I’d set it on the table and held it out to me. “Food?”
“Please.”
I speared the noodles and twirled them around my fork, then
brought them to my mouth. I was chewing energetically, enjoying the firm pasta
and thick, tangy sauce when the attention on us grew sharper. The Kardoval had
stopped muttering among themselves.
“Is that what you do with those?” Mereval asked.
“You made the food but have no idea how to eat it?” Then
again, none of them had plates.
“It was made for us. We do not eat it; the intention was to
help you feel more comfortable.” She nodded toward my plate where I had twirled
up another small nest of pasta on my fork. “That device is fascinating.”
“It is very useful for the way he eats.” Garjah had pulled
out his knife and was flicking off pieces of meat, placing a few on my side of
the plate. The others he swallowed whole.
“Yes, of course.” One of the males came back to the table, plates
in both of his upper hands. He pulled out a chair, then offered one plate to
Mereval. She thanked him.
They all had gotten food after Garjah filled out plate, and
they sat together on the other side of the table facing us. Like judges facing
off against supplicants. My stomach started to churn, and I swallowed hard. Garjah’s
nostrils flared, and he glanced down at me. “What’s wrong?”
Leaning in close, I pressed my shoulder against his chest
and rested my face near his ear. “They’re over there, we’re here. Feels… judgey.”
His chest bounced, a chuckle. “Sometimes I forget.” His
voice carried, deep against my neck but also loud.
“Shh.” I glanced at them, and of course they were watching
us.
“It’s okay, Essell. They are giving us space because we are
newly bonded. Mereval is no threat to us, but another male could be. My
instincts are known, but yours are not.” Garjah picked up my fork and speared a
small piece of the purple meat he’d cut for me. He held it out, not giving me
the fork handle but offering me the bite.
I took it, pulling the meat off the tines carefully as I
thought. “They’re giving me space because they’re not sure if I freak out on
them because they are interested in you?” Which one was interested in Garjah? I
swept a glance across the table. Was it the one who gave him the armbands?
The ones he never took off?
Mereval laughed, that odd sound I’d heard a few times from
Timok even higher from her. “No, no. The pheromones coming off you are
outrageous, dear one. Fear, caution, possession, anger, it’s all a riot against
our senses. They are keeping their distance out of respect, both for Garjah’s
service and for your bond.”
Cranking my head to one side, I considered that. “Is that
why they haven’t introduced themselves by name?”
The three males all lightened, and Mereval laughed again. “Oh
no, that’s just them being males.”
“We forgot,” the one who’d always been sitting said. The
other male who sat on his far side had brought him a plate. “Please accept our
apologies. We’re so used to everyone knowing who we are.” He rubbed at his
creased forehead. “It is strange.”
“You hide from the entire universe. It can’t be that
strange.”
“But among our people, we are unique. Known from nearly
birth.” The confrontational one gestured with his knife. “I am Sloval.” Maybe
he had a good reason for being so cranky. Still, he quickly bit into a piece of
fruit and couldn’t speak anywyal
“My name is Lenveval.” Bowing from the waist, the next to
introduce himself was the one who had stayed seated. I nodded back at him, not
sure of the protocol. That left the youngest Kardoval. The one who’d seemed
awed by Bouncer.
“My name is Quixoval.” He leaned forward, dipping his head
quickly. “Is your cerops hungry?”
I snorted. “He is always hungry.”
“Could I prepare a plate for him?”
Hesitating, I glanced at Garjah. Would he take food from them?
“There are tongs. He can touch the food without getting his scent on it.” His
reassurance helped. I nodded my agreement to Quixoval, and he jumped up
immediately.
“I didn’t mean right now. You could eat first.”
“Nonsense. This will also give us a chance to study this
phenomena.” Quixoval was up and over at the table before I could protest again.
“You won’t be able to stop him,” Sloval warned. “So don’t
try.” Was that supposed to be an order or a commiseration. His glare was certainly
pointed at Quixoval instead of me.
“How do you want to do this?” Quixoval asked as he handed
over the plate of meat.
“Essell finishes eating before anything else,” Garjah said
firmly. “Then he can show you.” He slid the plate aside, then nudged my fork
back toward me.
The most confusing aspect of the whole meeting so far was
the way they actually listened to him. Quixoval returned to his seat, and
everyone started eating quietly, like they wouldn’t even ask me questions. Just
who was in charge here?
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