The porridge had cooked. It had texture and warmth.
But it had no taste.
And that was a problem because Lyssena loved tasty things.
So Erevos made a bargain with Rolam, the demon who had everything, and from him, Erevos obtained spices. With them, he seasoned his shadow-born creations, coaxing flavor into form.
In that same way, this bread before them was created.
Lyssena looked at the two plates, her brows lifting in anticipation, and turned to Erevos with a curious smile.
“I smell food,” she said, rubbing her belly in small circles, and Erevos nodded, pleased beyond measure, gesturing for her to lift the plate that rested on top.
As Lyssena slowly reached forward, her fingertips brushing the edge, Erevos leaned in just a little closer, unable to restrain his eagerness. He had waited so long for this moment, and now it was finally happening.
“Is that bread?” she asked, the tips of her fingers already curling beneath the plate. “It smells so good!”
Erevos’s mouth stretched wide, revealing the full, impressive range of his teeth. Humans smiled like this, he had learned, and Lyssena should know by now that this meant he was pleased.
But Lyssena did not look nearly as delighted as he felt, and instead of meeting his gaze, she turned her eyes back to the plate.
At last, she lifted the cover and revealed a large, thick loaf of bread, and inhaled deeply.
“Whoa,” she breathed. Erevos did not know that word, but she said it with half a smile and a tone that rang with approval, so he decided it must meangood.
The loaf was dense and round, with a shape and scent nearly identical to the bread she used to buy at the bakery in her village, but this version was entirely black. Still, Lyssena didn’t seem bothered by the color, and since she made no comment on it, Erevos did not ask.
“Is this for me?” she asked, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, and Erevos nodded.
“But before you eat,” he said, lifting his arm toward the bone-colored box and sliding it closer across the table, “you can add this.”
Chapter Thirteen
Gods Don’t Eat, They Watch
Lyssena
The last thing Lyssena expected was honey.
In a room made of darkness, seeing this pop of color made her chest tighten with homesickness, and she realized how much she missed her home. She didn’t know if a day had already passed or not, as there were no windows to tell the passage of time, and she wouldn’t dare ask her god, not when he had just spared her life and was now feeding her with a loaf of bread and honey.
She didn’t know if it was right to miss the family that had sold her, fattened her, and cared for her only to hand her over to the highest bidder.
If her father had simply wanted her to marry a good man, he could have chosen any one of the villagers she knew. There were plenty of men of marriageable age. The baker’s eldest son, for example, or the family living on the farm near their house, with seven children, four of whom were older than her, and therest only slightly younger. These men weren’t wealthy, but they weren’t poor either.
But her father had chosen a cruel, wealthy knight instead, and hadn’t even told her until it was already done.
So Lyssena buried all those false hopes deep within herself and decided, instead, to enjoy this strange and lovely bread that had been given to her.
“Would you join me?” she asked Erevos, tearing a piece of the soft loaf between her fingers. It was warm and puffy, practically sighing steam, and Lyssena couldn’t wait to dip it into the honey and take the biggest bite.
“I made it for you, songbird. Eat,” he said, and poured a generous stream of honey onto the plate.
Lyssena chose to take the first bite as it was, saving the dip for the next. And the taste, when it met her tongue, was divine.
The loaf was so soft, so cloudy and light in her mouth, that she let out a long hum as she chewed, eyes fluttering shut from the sheer joy of it.
It was, without question, the best bread she had ever eaten.
