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“Care they have me seducing a beautiful woman?” He chuckled. “You don’t know men at all, do you?”
She almost blushed because she did and didn’t. She knew them peripherally, had dealt with them when she left the keep, but when it came to affairs of the bedroom, or sex in general, she remained an innocent. Innocent in the sense she’d never been with a man, but she did know the mechanics of it. Sounded unpleasant and sticky, and no number of women saying it could be enjoyable would change her mind. Let them indulge. She had no interest.
As they entered the dining hall, silence fell, and in that hush the warlord’s mother loudly whispered, “Are you going to announce him?”
Gurlok stood and held up a tankard. “Respect to our warlord, and greetings to the envoy of Acca. We honor you with this feast.”
A feast that appeared to have a lot of roasted animals. Platters of them strewn on the table: bird, pig, a haunch of something she didn’t know, fish. There were other dishes, too: bowls that appeared to have some kind of grain tossed with vegetables, breads, cheese, and colorful legumes.
As they neared the head table, she spotted where Kormac would be sitting, the empty ornate chair between two lovely women. As for Fionna? It appeared she’d gotten relegated to the spot beside his mother.
Kormac growled. “She insults you.”
“How do you figure? I’m at the head table with an end spot, making it easier to escape.”
“Envoys and special guests are usually seated close to me. I’ll have you moved.”
“And disappoint those eager brides-to-be?” She couldn’t help but notice them, their hair elaborately pinned and curled, their gowns just as fancy, unlike the drab clothing she’d seen thus far. Perhaps she should have changed.
“I’m not interested,” he grumbled.
“Be nice. I’m sure they didn’t have a choice.”
“I should seat my mother with them since she’s so keen on their presence,” was his sour rebuttal.
“That would be even more cruel than you not marrying them.”
He snorted. “None of them truly want to marry me. They simply want the recognition of being the warlord’s wife.”
“Sounds like you’d prefer a woman who’s appalled by that position.”
“I don’t think she exists.”
“Mayhap you’ll have to look outside of Srayth.”
With that parting shot, Fionna took her place beside Silia who offered her a fake smile. “I was beginning to think you were going to skip dinner.”
“Thinking or hoping?” Fionna quipped.
“It would have been an insult if you’d missed it, seeing as how we’ve hosted it in your honor.”
“I would never disrespect the warlord like that. It just so happens I was busy.” Then because she felt like being a brat,added, “A good thing Kormac reminded me of the time. If it weren’t for him, we’d still be in my room.”
The innuendo pinched Silia’s lips. “Perhaps it is customary in the marshes to entertain men in the bedchamber, but here there is a thing we practice called modesty.”
“Glad I don’t live here then. Where I come from, women have rights and freedoms.”
“The freedom to be hoydens,” the woman muttered under her breath before brightly asking, “When are you leaving?” Silia didn’t hide her eagerness to see her gone.
“I’ll depart when Kormac no longer needs me. After all, I am here at his request.”
“Surely, you miss home.”
Fionna waved a hunk of bread she’d torn off from the larger piece set in front of her. “One castle is much like another.”
The questions stopped for a moment as a servant carved some meat to place on their plates. Once the lad moved on, Silia started in again, this time on a different tangent. “It won’t be long before my son chooses a bride.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t invite her to dinner.”
