Azar gives me a tight look. "It's always the quiet ones," he mutters, but rings a small metal bell next to his hand. The servant immediately returns and waits for instructions. "Dinner for my guests," Azar drawls, emphasizing the word “guests.” "And a pitcher of cool water."
The woman nods and heads out, and I glance around the table. Melina sits at Azar's side, her chair very close to his, and her expression remains disapproving. Well, she doesn't have to be my friend. Gwen and Vaan sit across from Rachel and Jurik, and Rachel won't stop grinning. It's like she knows what I'm up to and she absolutely loves it. Gwen looks distracted, her hand rubbing the large mound of her belly. She looks ready to pop, she's so pregnant, and it's startling to see considering she was barely showing a few weeks ago.
It's just another reminder of how fast everything is moving.
"Name your demands," Azar says in a cold voice.
"I'd like dinner first," I say sweetly. "You wouldn't want to keep pregnant ladies waiting, would you?"
Interest flares in his eyes. "Then you are pregnant?"
"I didn't say that." I gesture at Rachel and Gwen. "They're pregnant. They probably want to eat."
"All the time," Gwen admits. "All the damn time."
I decide I like Gwen, a lot.
Azar drums his fingers on the table and shoots a glance at Melina as more of the servants come in and set down glasses in front of us, filling them with cool water. I immediately gulp mine down, and it's just as refreshing and wonderful as it looks. Fresh water is such a gift, I'd forgotten how easy it was to come by in the fort. They still have a few pumps running to give plumbing and water, and there's a well on the other side of the fort for those that don't have water in their houses. Water's a big plus in the fort's favor.
Dishes are brought in, and thick slabs of cornbread are set down on the table, along with a thick, meaty soup full of greens. It looks amazing, and I can't wait to dig in. My stomach growls at the sight. Cornbread and soup isn't all that different from what they eat in the barracks, but the difference is the quality. I can tell right away that there are large chunks of meat in the soup, along with onions, greens, and even a bit of potato. Only the best for Lord Azar. I take a spoonful of food and nearly moan aloud at how good it is.
Your face shows everything, Mhal reminds me. You look like you do when I have my mouth between your thighs.
Sorry. Sorry. I put my spoon down and decide to wait a bit before I eat more. "Well, for starters, if Mhal and I come back, we're going to need a nice room to stay in, and privacy. We also want food from your cook, not from the barracks. I imagine we'll need supplies of all kinds, too. I'm thinking clothing, saddles, shoes, home goods…"
"You will be a guest in my house," Azar says tightly. "That will be a given, of course. You will have access to all the fort has to offer. Ask your friends if you do not believe me." He gestures at Rachel and Gwen.
Mhal chimes in. Vaan and Jurik say they have been treated well. Their mates lack for nothing. He truly just wants their cooperation with closing the Rift.
I nod, my gaze stealing over to Gwen's belly. "We're also going to require medical care when pregnant."
"Also a given." The lord sounds a little insulted that we'd even ask. He looks over at Melina. "Isn't that right, my dear?"
Her expression is far less welcoming. "I would never withhold care from someone."
Which is not a great answer, but I don't expect more from her. Melina's always been at odds with Azar, I thought, forced to share his bed and be his mistress so she could run her clinic without interference from the militia. But the woman that gazes back at me today is rather stony faced.
She couldn't possibly be on his side, could she?
No one could be on his side, Mhal says flatly. Unless they like the enslavement of my people.
Exactly. But she's always been against it. She's said so repeatedly.
"Are those all your demands?" Azar asks in a sharp voice.
"We're only going to be here until the Rift is closed, or neutralized, or whatever it is we can do to take care of the threat above," I continue. "If that means two months, we'll be here two months. If it means two years, we'll be here two years. If it means two decades…"
"God, I hope not," Rachel mutters, casting a worried look at Jurik. He puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"And," I continue on, "Manda and Daniels should be allowed to marry."