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Kha’zeth’s shoulders hunch above his plate, and then he turns his horned head. When he sees me, his black eyes widen, and then narrow. For a strange moment, his face looks as though I’ve slapped him.
He did not expect me. I’m not sure if I’m being foolish or brave. Perhaps it would have been best to remain in my room. I remind myself of the small kindnesses he’s shown me. I may have thrown them in his face, but he didn’t need to treat me so well. Perhaps he won’t hurt me.
But he might give me away to someone who will.
Fear and guilt make me shake again, and I twine my fingers together, trying to hide my raw nerves. The girls whisper excitedly to one another, but they remain in their seats at the imposingly tall table.
“Well?” His eyes rake over my new dress, and then back to the table dismissively. “Are you going to join us or not?”
His voice is so rough that it takes me time to parse the meaning of his words. And even then, at first I believe I’ve misheard.
“I’m sorry?”
A flick of his finger sends a tall, heavy chair scooting away from the breakfast-laden table. “If you’d like to eat, then sit. I will not have you idling in the hall. It’s bad manners.”
The youngest girl rolls her eyes, and her sister steals a pastry from her plate. “Hey!”
“Are you sure that’s okay?” He’d sent up mountains of food earlier with the servants, but my stomach had been wound so tight that I hadn’t managed to take a bite.
I’m beginning to read his expressions better now. When I first arrived, his general demeanor had been so terrifying that I’d just assumed he was always furious. But now I see the slight twist to his brow and the downward tilt to his lips. His black eyes are not easy to read, but also not impossible.
He looks confused.
“There is food, and you are hungry.” His brow wrinkles even further. “What is there to debate?”
Another twist to my stomach. Not hunger. Guilt.
I still want to apologize, but not in front of his wards.
Later, I think. We should have a private conversation.
I’ve been so terrified he’ll hurt me, and all he’s done is send me up food and new clothing, and then invite me to sit down and eat a meal with his family. It’s surreal. Even with Toklys, who’d loved me, I had never imagined being welcome at a dinner with his family. It was unheard of for a human to dine with elves as equals.
A zonak trudges inside the kitchen and fetches me a plate, and the girls watch as I fill it with fruits and pastries.
“Why doesn’t she have to eat meat?” the youngest whines.
“She’s human,” Kha’zeth snaps.
I look at the meat in question, raw and bleeding on the plate.
“Do humans eat meat?” The oldest girl smiles at me, and I must be getting accustomed to demons because her sharp incisors hardly faze me any longer. “My name is Valindra, by the way. And this is Tanulia, and the one stuffing her face with pastries is Elincia.”
Elincia’s face is covered with sugar, and she flashes her sharp teeth at me.
“I eat meat sometimes,” I say, trying to ignore how Kha’zeth’s eyes bore into me as I speak. Unspoken words hang heavy in the air between us, and it’s a relief to speak of something lighthearted instead. “If it’s cooked.”
“Cooked!” Elincia marvels. “Can I see your teeth?”
I swallow, and then take a sip of water. Their water tastes odd here. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s summoned, or because of the storms above, but it tastes oddly electric, like it sparks along my tongue.
I smile wide. Elincia reaches to pull my lips further apart, but her older sister stops her hand.
“I guess they’re a little sharp,” she says, skeptically. “But there are a lot of flat teeth there.”
“That’s why she can eat so many pastries,” Kha’zeth retorts.
I’m not sure now is the right time for a lecture on human dental hygiene, but I’m not eager for breakfast to end, either. So I talk about healers, and how teeth require care. This seems to please Kha’zeth unexpectedly, because he gives a pointed look to Elincia and she crosses her arms, petulant.
