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“First coffee, then soturion training?” I teased.
“First coffee, then soturion training.” He downed the rest of his mug and set it down, reaching for a plate and piling it high with everything he’d collected for the feast. Pita bread was heaped with mountains of hummus, olives, nuts, and salad. He added a hardboiled egg, then he topped it off with a chocolate, a pastry, and three lemon cakes.
“I had a feeling you’d be excited by the coffee, but you haven’t mentioned the food.” He placed the plate in my hands. It was heavier than I’d expected.
“Oh,” I said, staring dumbly down at it. The plate was intimidating. “This isn’t for you?”
“I made this plate for you.”
“I don’t think I can eat all of this.”
“It’s food you like, though, isn’t it? I know you like lemon cakes. Other than coffee, it’s the only thing I’ve seen you gravitate to in the hall.”
I could only nod in response, a bubbly feeling in my stomach as I looked over at him. Sunlight streamed through the windows, creating a golden halo around his curls.
“I want you to eat more of them,” he said, voice serious again.
“What, right this second?” I asked. “What about you?”
One eyebrow narrowed, his green eyes carefully assessing me. “I’m going to make my plate now and eat with you, but you have to promise to finish whatever I give you.” He set himself to work, piling his own plate with food. I noticed he tripled the amount of hardboiled eggs on his.
“Why the sudden focus on how much I’m eating?”
“Take a bite.” Rhyan tore into his first lemon cake, licking the icing off his fingers. “You want the lemon cake first? Eat that.”
I gripped the plate on my lap, eyeing him suspiciously. I’d never started with dessert before, nor had I ever allowed myself two—forget three—pieces of lemon cake. I’d never even thought of it. Ladies who were Heir to the Arkasva only ate one piece and usually just a bite of it. And only at the end of a meal. Somedays I was so stressed or injured, I could barely stomach food at all, much less get to dessert.
Rhyan took another bite. When he swallowed, I finally bit into my lemon cake, chewing slowly, allowing myself to really taste the sweetness on my tongue.
“Eat the other,” he said, as soon as I finished the cake. My stomach growled in response, but before I could feel embarrassed, Rhyan smiled. “Mine used to do that, too, in my early days of training.”
I took another bite, aware of how carefully Rhyan was watching me.
“I did say that eating was part of training, so here’s the lesson. I’ve been watching you in the dining hall, and I think you’ve been eating like an heir—a very stressed one. From what I’ve observed of Bamarian culture, including during my previous visits, there’s an expectation of small portions, of eating only what is considered polite, or eating only when guests are. I was trained to do the same,” he continued. “But from now on, I want you eating like a soturion. You need more nutrition and sustenance to keep up with the warrior you truly are.”
“I’m n—”
“You are a warrior, Lyr. You stood up to Ka Kormac on my behalf, not to mention the way you faced them this week after all they did to you. You spent a week in the Shadow Stronghold. You’ve been training with soturi for over a month, and you survived your first habibellum and whipping. Now you’re already back to running mere days later, and you just beat your average run time. You are a warrior. Now eat like one.”
Tears burned behind my eyes as his words sank in. He was right. I had barely eaten in the past month, barely eaten when I’d used more energy than ever. I’d been through so much—Gods, even last night, I’d eaten according to what I’d seen Lady Romula consume and stopped eating dessert when everyone else had, and that had allowed me to get too drunk from the wine.
“This is the next part of our training. Whatever was keeping you from combat clinic was also keeping you from sleeping enough and eating enough. From now on, you’re getting more of both.”
I blinked the tears back. I hadn’t been undereating and under-sleeping for a month—I’d been doing it for years. “How did you know?”
He scooped another serving of hummus onto my plate, motioning for me to try the bread. “You were wasting away, getting thinner, looking weaker,” he said, nostrils flaring. “You were practically sleeping on the field before the Emartis showed up. But I knew for sure the other day. When I treated your back, I could see just how thin you were becoming.” He grunted. “Go ahead. Try the bread.”
When I took a bite, he continued, “After my Revelation, I was eating the same amount of food as my friends when I started training. The amount I’d been taught to eat. But they weren’t being bound like me. They hadn’t grown up with the experiences I had. Their stress levels weren’t the same. Only when I realized magic was making up for a portion of their energy did I make the connection. I had to increase my food intake to compete—to match the physical energy levels expected of me and that I wanted to achieve.
“You can do the same. Eat bigger portions and until you’re actually satisfied, don’t just eat the amount expected. And no skipping meals. From now on, we’re always going to have snacks in this room. Always. No more depriving yourself. You want to eat the lemon cake first, do it, fuck what anyone else thinks. And when you’re with me, you don’t have to be an heir, you don’t need to put on a show or perform as Lady Lyrianna. You’re hungry, you eat. Especially these next three months. If you have needs, you see to them. If there’s something you want, something you enjoy, something that will help you get through this, I want you to have it. What you’re doing is hard enough without you depriving yourself over silly societal norms. Understand?”
I took another bite, and then another. Rhyan did the same until both of our plates were cleaned. When I hesitated to grab seconds, he pushed every bowl toward me with a grin.
When I was completely full and satisfied and Rhyan was convinced that I had in fact eaten my fill, we started to pack away the food.
“I wanted to take a walk around the track after this,” he said. “To digest. But um….” He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly irritated.
“We can’t risk being seen.”
