four #3
“She very kindly helped me through your beautiful home,” Mira said to young Mr. Gardiah.
At least he’s nowhere near as stern as his father.
Vern looked completely put out that such VIPs had arrived on his property, and his wife had let them in with full sanctuary status.
I know men like this. While Mira’s father wasn’t quite as visibly vexed in the face, he would have probably felt the same way…
unless he could get something out of his guests.
To that end, these two men are very different.
Vern looked like he just wanted to get back to work.
“Yes, Sulim is a very helpful woman.”
Something about what he said caused the two humans to maintain eye contact for an uncomfortably long time, as if there was something between them that Mira didn’t pick up on.
I would much rather she be looking at me.
The longer Mira gazed at Sulim, the more she saw those delicately distinct features, the nimble fingers, and the kind of soul behind the eyes that begged for new, exciting experiences. I’ve got a few of those in me…
The first course of soup and salad was served at the same time.
Jacelah explained that the soup was an Arrahite staple that featured two native vegetables.
Joiya expressed that she always loved trying new foods.
Like you haven’t had this before. If it was so common on Arrah, then doubtlessly the Dunsmans had eaten it more times than they could ever count.
But maybe Joiya had forgotten. Or maybe she was so good at flattery that even her own daughter couldn’t tell.
“Oh, try it with the wine,” Kema said to her cousin. “They go well together!”
Mira had already had a few sips, but couldn’t recall what this local wine tasted like.
So she tried some now, after swallowing some soup.
As she tested the two flavors on her tongue—she supposed it was nice—Sonall said, “I like them together, too. Something about the dryness of the wine goes well with the savory flavor.”
Yes, it’s quite dry. Not Mira’s favorite. She preferred the sweeter tesatah wines from Yahzen. Maybe that gives me the palate of a child, but I don’t care. Something about her was pleased to see that Sulim didn’t hurriedly drink her wine, either.
The main course was a pheasant of some sort. Perhaps it was already slated to be consumed for dinner that night, but there would be no leftovers, and the fruit stewed to go along with it was probably a last-minute addition with such discerning company on the premises.
Mira stayed out of most of the conversation.
Most of it was dominated by the three conversational women, including her mother, who was more than happy to speak on their travels and the meaning behind a “sorceric cleanse,” as she called it.
“It brings us closer to the Void,” she said, which always made humans gaze at them in awe. Perfect.
Occasionally, Vern asked something about life on Yahzen, one of the only things that seemed to interest him about their visitors.
Really, sir? The wife of the High Priest and one of the most powerful women in the universe does nothing for you?
Huh. Graella could hardly shut up about how much she admired julah culture and wished that she could speak the language so she could read scriptures in their true language.
Her mother spared no moment reminding her that there would be no time for studying anything once she was married.
“There’s always time to study whatever you wish.”
Most of the table fell silent, as if they were shocked that Sulim knew how to speak. The woman in question turned to Graella beside her, a fork full of pheasant meat in her hand.
“Besides, any husband who won’t give you at least an hour to yourself is no man at all.”
Everyone was still silent, although Joiya cocked her head in contemplation, and Jacelah looked like she was about to snap something at the woman at the other end of the table.
Sonall cleared his throat and agreed that his sister should pursue language learning while their guests were there, since the opportunity had arisen. It was good for the brain, after all.
“Do you know any Julah?” Mira asked, helping to diffuse the situation that the beautiful woman sitting across from her had caused.
Graella blushed and hid her pursed lips behind her napkin. “Oh, only a few phrases. When I was on exchange in Yarensport, the local priestess taught me some things. For example…” She gathered the courage before saying with only a slight accent, “Dodda fed.”
Joiya politely clapped her hands while turning to Kema with a slight “oh!” flying from her lips. “Very nice! You said that perfectly.”
Mira couldn’t help herself. “Feh h’dadda,” she replied.
While Graella giggled, chuffed once again, Sulim asked Mira, “How do you literally translate those phrases? Into Basic, I mean.”
Did this woman know some Julah as well? Well enough to know that dodda fed didn’t literally mean goodbye?
“Suppose you would translate it as blessed ending,” Mira said. “And the response is, and a blessed ending to you as well.”
“Much simpler in Julah, yes,” Vern grumbled. “Brevity is the true spice of life.”
Mira would like the man if he didn’t radiate many of the same patriarchal vibes her own father did. So she concentrated on Sulim, who dabbed her mouth and kept her eyes on her plate.
“It’s so unfortunate that Hannu couldn’t join us,” Joiya said in the ensuing silence.
“That’s right!” Graella responded. “There were four of you, besides the bodyguards?”