Chapter 9 Nasrin
NASRIN
Ididn’t see Gahn Thaleo again until that evening at dinner in the hall.
By then, Fiona had roused herself enough to come with us, though she was nothing like her usual chipper self.
There was a lot of sighing happening, along with pushing her food around on her little tray.
But she was up, at least, and I counted that as a win after this morning.
She really did have it bad for Dalk, and I sympathized with her, even if I’d never felt that strongly towards anyone I’d ever dated before.
Tilly was pleased, too, and was currently heaping more food onto Fiona’s plate, despite the fact that our friend had barely touched what she’d started with.
“You need protein,” Tilly insisted, and Oxriel and Zoren piped up in earnest agreement with this.
“I swear,” Oxriel said, grasping a felkora leg for himself from the roasting pit, “no matter how low I am feeling, a good meal always seems to do me good!”
“I didn’t know protein could cure a broken heart,” Fiona sighed. Oxriel looked thunderstruck.
“Dalk has broken your what?!”
“It’s not broken. I’m being dramatic,” Fiona said, finally shoving a piece of meat into her mouth and chewing.
“Well…Good,” Oxriel sputtered. “Imagine, a muscled organ like a heart breaking! Who has ever heard of such a thing!” He turned a slightly-terrified gaze my way. “Is this actually possible among your kind?”
“It’s a figure of speech,” I said. “It just means someone’s feeling hurt, usually because of something to do with love.”
I blinked, hoping Oxriel wouldn’t notice the tears that now burned in my eyes at the intrusion of an unexpected memory.
After my mother died when I was in high school, Baba stopped writing poetry.
He stopped reading it, too, and took a long sabbatical from the university position where he’d taught Persian literature all my life.
I’d asked him once if he’d stopped writing because his heart was broken.
It’s not broken, khoshgelam, he’d told me. My heart is gone.
I stared down at my plate for long seconds, willing the tears not to seep out of my eyes or drip anywhere inconvenient.
The Zaphrinax people, especially the men, tended to fling themselves into a bit of a panic at the sight of human tears.
When I felt sure that no one had noticed, I sniffed, then looked up.
My gaze collided with Gahn Thaleo’s.
He was standing on the other side of the fire pit, directly across from the place that I was currently seated.
His sight stars were trained on my face.
His expression was formed into its usual indecipherable collection of hard angles and lines.
But there was tension in his jaw. A tension that I sensed echoing throughout his body.
Like he was primed to leap right across the firepit should some secret impulse or signal compel him to.
Had he seen my tears, the expression on my face?
Of all the Gahns, Thaleo had the least amount of experience with human women.
He was the only one without a human mate.
Did he even know about tears? Maybe he’d seen Priya cry them.
He’d held her prisoner here, just as he’d held Oxriel and the others.
Though he’d given her much more comfortable quarters than the guys.
I held his gaze without blinking, trying to radiate calm, don’t-jump-across-the-fire energy. Not that I thought of him as the leaping-without-looking sort. I doubted the man had ever made a rash or impulsive choice in his entire life.
My eyes burned all over again, now for a different reason altogether.
Gahn Thaleo could win a staring contest with a fucking statue made of marble.
I blinked, then lowered my gaze first, focusing once more on my plate.
Then, he spoke, plunging right into his subject without any sort of preamble or warning.
“Before dawn, Arton and Jael found evidence of a borog’s burrow near the neutral territory of the Vrika’s peak,” he said.
A hush fell over the hall. Even the children were silent, sobered by their parents’ rapt attention and Gahn Thaleo’s commanding voice.
“Warrek and I flew to that place, and confirmed it with our own eyes,” he continued.
“The scent was fresh. There is indeed a borog that has moved into our lands, or has otherwise awakened from an unknown slumber. It is far from here, and even if it were to burrow directly towards our mountain without ceasing, it would take many days to reach us. For now, nothing here will change. But I will inform Valeria, commander of the new women, that this area is not currently safe for any of their work. We will monitor the borog’s position with twice daily patrols.
Anyone travelling in the direction of the Vrika’s peak will need to do so on braxilk-back or not at all.
There will be no travelling on foot beyond the areas directly surrounding this mountain. ”
“That’s a bit grim,” Tilly said. Fiona didn’t respond, currently preoccupied with moping over a bit of fish Tilly had served her.
“There is no need to worry, Tilly,” Oxriel said, and Zoren grunted at his side. “We are sworn to protect you three. Even if this borog creature were to get near you, it would have to fight its way through two strong Sea Sand men first!”
“And Deep Sky men.”
Oxriel jerked his head with surprise at Gahn Thaleo’s voice, which no longer boomed in the hall but cut with silken intimacy into our conversation. Warrek was now at his side.
“Well, of course,” Oxriel said. “I should expect nothing less. Any warrior worth his blades should be willing to fight with his life to protect a defenceless female!”
“Hey!” Tilly said, bristling at his characterization.
But ultimately, Oxriel was right. Tilly, Fiona, and I weren’t like Valeria or Chapman.
We weren’t soldiers. I doubted any of us had ever held something like a sword or a gun.
If we were let loose in these mountains with nothing but our own wits, there was a good chance we wouldn’t live to see morning.
“You’re a good friend, Oxriel,” I said, giving him a little pat on the knee. “But I certainly hope we never put you in a position like that.”
Oxriel’s sight stars misted with pleasure, his mouth stretching into a dopey, dazed sort of smile.
“Thank you very much, Nazreen!” he exclaimed. “It is one of my life’s greatest honours to be considered a good friend to the new women!”
“And you too, Zoren,” I added with a nod, not wanting the quiet Death Plains male to feel left out. He didn’t smile as widely as Oxriel, but I saw his lips twitch up just slightly at the corners, his sight stars giving a shivery pulse.
It made me wonder what Gahn Thaleo’s sight stars were doing right about now.
I braced myself for the intensity of their contact as I looked his way, but instead I found him deep in conversation with Salina.
She had an arm around each of her daughters, holding them tightly to her sides.
She appeared to be asking Gahn Thaleo questions with a deeply worried look on her face.
I watched him as he answered. I couldn’t hear his words, but I could tell that the more he talked, the more Salina relaxed.
Say what I would about the guy, but he was obviously a trusted leader among his people.
He was capable of inspiring calm in others.
Just not in me, apparently. Even now, my pulse felt off-kilter in my veins, just from having him in the room. Absentmindedly, I rubbed my sternum.
“Is your heart hurting you, Nazreen?” Oxriel asked sounding concerned. “Do not tell me yours is broken, too!”
“You dolt,” Zoren muttered as I quickly shook my head. “She said that only happens when there’s love.”
“How do you know that Nazreen has no love!” Oxriel demanded. His sight stars surreptitiously regarded me from the corner of his eye.
“I’ve never loved a man besides my own father,” I told Oxriel honestly. I had no brothers or cousins or uncles. My parents had immigrated to Australia from Iran alone. And I’d never considered myself in love with any past boyfriends, either.
“But maybe one day,” Oxriel said hopefully.
And it was an innocent, friendly, we’re-in-this-together sort of hope.
Not one that said he hoped that someday I would love him specifically.
But a hope that said he longed for love, and that he wished for such a thing for both of us, no matter who we ended up with, because surely that would bring us happiness.
I smiled at him, though I could tell by the way it felt that it didn’t touch my eyes.
“Maybe, Ox. Maybe.”