She inclined her head and we lapsed into a small stretch of silence as she finished taking off a finger’s worth of material from the pants hem.
After I finished scrubbing my body with the washing rag, I glanced back over at her, only to notice she was looking around the tent in between her sewing.
When she saw me looking, her head ducked and she smiled, though it seemed sheepish. “I have never been inVorakkar’s volikibefore.”
I thought of the females that brought our meals in the evenings and remembered the demon king’s words about them, how most aspired to beMorakkari.
“Does that mean you’ve never vied for his attentions?” I asked without thinking. It took me a moment to realize that the question may have come off as rude and my face heated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
She didn’t seem offended, which made relief rush through me. I liked her and I wanted her to like me. I wanted to be friends, so the last thing I wanted was to offend her.
“Nik, I never sought his attentions,” she murmured, looking back down at her work. “When we came to this horde, I had a mate and I was pregnant with his child. I was in love and when you feel that kind of love, of Kakkari’s light, you look at no other. Not even aVorakkar.”
The reverence in her voice pulled at my chest and I felt longing at her words.
“I wondered if you had a mate,” I commented, thinking of her son.
Even from the short distance, I saw her lips press together. “I do, but he is dead.”
I sucked in a breath, stilling in the bath.
“But for me, matehood is lifelong. He is still my mate and always will be. I will not take another. I could never, knowing that he would never measure up.”
Her pain was palpable, as tangible as a solid thing.
“I’m sorry,lirilla,” I whispered. “I didn’t realize.”
“You could not have,” she said, threading another stitch and glancing around thevolikiagain. “He was a warrior for the horde. He died in battle, earlier in the year.”
I remembered the day I met her, when the warrior training had begun at the training grounds. I remembered her face when she heard the ringing metal and the hiss of blades. I’d thought at the time that I had somehow made her uncomfortable, but perhaps the sounds had been a reminder of her warrior mate.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, not knowing what else to say, frowning. I knew loss, but I didn’t think I could ever understand her kind of loss. Being in love was a luxury few experienced. Only three couples in my village were love matches and I remembered watching them, thinking they lived in their own world, where it was just the two of them. I remembered being envious, all while knowing I would never experience something like that. Not there.
She waved her hand and gave me a small smile before refocusing her attention. “He gave me many wonderful years and a son. I could ask for nothing else, though sometimes it is painful to be here.”
“Have you ever thought of leaving the horde?” I asked softly.
“Nik, never,” she replied. “My son is happy here, my father loves horde life, the freedom of it. My mate grew up in a horde, as my son will, and I feel closer to him here.” She looked back up at me. “As for theVorakkar…well, most would follow him anywhere. He is good and fair. He wants what is best for us all. So,nik, we would never leave.”
I could believe that, that many were loyal to the demon king.
We lapsed into silence again and when my skin had begun to soften and prune, I stood and dried off with a spare fur.
When I reached for my new sweater—since the thought of putting on the demon king’s tunic once more left with me a strange sensation—the seamstress said quietly, “Lirilla,you are bleeding.”
My brow furrowed and I looked down my body, turning my arms, searching. “What? Where?”
But then I saw it. A trail of red blood leaking down my inner thigh.
I stilled, my lips parting. I hadn’t bled for four or five months, so the sight surprised me at first.
“Oh,” I murmured, biting my lip. I looked at the seamstress and said, “I need some…”
There were scraps of spare cloth from her bundle and she grabbed one and brought it to me.
Pressing it between my legs, I said softly, “Thank you.”
Chapter Sixteen
