“What makes you say this?” he asked.
He seemed genuinely curious. Mina softened her tone a bit. “It sounds to me,” she said, “like just another way to keep women oppressed.”
“Hmm,” Mozok said, bringing his fingertips to his chin. “It is very interesting. I have heard this from many Humans, male and female. And yet, so much of your internal social strife on Earth seems to me—to us—to be driven by your insistence, as a species, upon fighting against your natural instincts.”
Mina glared. “That sounds like something only a male would say,” she told him.
Mozok tilted his head slightly. Mina had trouble returning his gaze, because he was looking at her so intently that it was difficult to believe he was not somehow peering into her mind and soul. He did this for such a long time, without speaking, that Mina became excruciatingly uncomfortable. But she would not back down; she was determined not to. In the end, this game might be according to Mozok’s rules, but she was in it to win it, and she wasn’t going to let him have the upper hand.
“Are you happy?” he asked. The pause had been so lengthy that his question startled Mina. Also, it was not what she had expected.
“Am I…? What?” she stammered. She broke away from his face and shifted in her chair, forgetting for a moment that she was bound, until her wrists chafed against the restraints. “Pshht,” she hissed, dismissively. “What kind of question is that?”
“It has made you uncomfortable,” Mozok observed.
“No,” Mina shot back, faster than she had meant to. “I mean… no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just… we were talking about Trothplight and then… I just didn’t expect it. And it really isn’t any of your business.”
“I am curious about this answer,” Mozok said calmly, “only because you claim that only men might be happy with an arrangement such as Trothplight. So I wonder, are you happy? As a female? With your current Human arrangements?”
Mina felt defensive. She bristled and tilted her chin. “Of course I am.”
She despised that Mozok seemed to believe her answer almost as much as she did.
“Do you never wish to be cared for, to find a male mate who will care for you, and please you, and provide for you, and protect you?” he pressed.
Mina could feel her blood boiling, though she had some trouble identifying the reason for it. It was all nonsense, hogwash he was feeding her in order to break down her resolve… And yet, as he spoke the words, she felt a craving light up inside of her.
“That isn’t how it works,” she said sullenly. She sniffed and shifted in her throne. “Is this a dinner or what? If you’re supposedly showing me that you will care for me, then you could start by making sure I eat.”
Something gleamed in Mozok’s eyes, and Mina didn’t like it one bit. He seemed smug, like he knew something she didn’t. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, telling herself to calm down and have patience. She only needed to get through this, and then it would all be like a bad dream.
“Ordinarily,” Mozok was saying, and she opened her eyes, “I would request a different type of favor from you in exchange for your meal. But I am more interested now in the answers to my questions. So, if you desire to eat, you must answer me.”
Mina sighed. “Fine, whatever,” she said.
It wasn’t as if any of this was going to affect the outcome; she was not ending Trothplight, and she was hungry. “Ask away.”
“I repeat my question,” Mozok said, pulling the plate with the chicken closer to him, selecting a large knife and cutting into the crispy skin. Mina’s mouth watered, and she did her best to hide how much she wanted a slice of the chicken, but she knew her efforts were in vain. She could see in Mozok’s eyes that he knew how much she wanted it.
He punctured a particularly juicy piece with a large fork, letting the fat ooze over the white meat. Whatever these aliens had done to procure a chicken and cook it to perfection, Mina was impressed. She stared at the chicken for a moment, as Mozok lifted it to tease her, twirling it slowly in the air.
Mina moved her eyes to meet his and glared as hard as she could.
“What was the question?” she snapped, when Mozok maintained his silence.
She hated that he smiled, having scored an obvious point for himself with her impatience. Play it cool, she told herself.
He wanted an answer? She’d give him an answer. It didn’t have to be true. All it needed to do was satisfy him, so he would give her some food.
“Do you never crave the care of a male mate? One who will protect you, and please you, and provide for you?”
Mina was surprised, because her eyes began to sting, almost as if she was going to cry. Mozok’s words touched on something inside of her—a vulnerable place that even she didn’t want to touch or visit. Despite not wanting to, she looked away.
“Not really,” she said, hearing the lack of conviction in her own voice.
There was a silence in response to her answer, so she looked back at Mozok. He was still holding the chicken, staring at her with a look of disappointment on his face.
Her stomach sank through her body, a feeling she had often had when she was much younger—but she could not account for it now.
