It was fur-lined on the bottom half of the dress, yet the material swayed and pleated as if it was made of the lightest silk. The color was an inky blue, as dark as the night sky. Despite the chill, the neckline was low-cut, but Avuli assured me that I wouldn’t be cold that night.
“Between the wine and the barrel fires,” she said, smiling, “you will hardly feel the chill.”
I wrapped my white pelt around my shoulders, a little uncomfortable that my breasts were so…on display. Regardless, I was grateful that my friend had taken the time to alter one of her gowns for me, though she was already so busy.
“Thank you, Avuli,” I told her, smiling. “It’s beautiful.”
I watched as she helped her son, whose name I now knew was Arlah, pull on his best tunic. I would go with them to the feast, which I was thankful for. Despite my excitement and my curiosity for the night, I was still incredibly nervous.
Once Arlah was finished dressing, Avuli said, “Shall we go? My father and brother are already there. They do love their wine.”
In the distance, coming from the open space next to the training grounds, I heard what sounded like drums reverberating around the camp. I nodded and we set out from thevoliki.
Even the energy of the horde was different. Dakkari were pouring in from all directions of the encampment, laughter and excited voices following in their wake. When the frost feast came into view, I was surprised to see most of the horde was already there and I was stunned by the beauty of it, the picture it made in my mind.
The Dakkari were a race of physically beautiful, physically overwhelming beings. The females had their hair long, black and silky down their backs. Their dresses were in different colors, ranging from the palest of blues to almost darkened blacks. Some were even in dresses of silver and white, showing off their generous, voluptuous curves. They were all in silks, which were so different from the garments of fur and hide they usually wore around camp.
As for the males, I was surprised to see most werebare-chested.Bare-chested, only wearing thick-soled boots and fur-lined hide pants.
Almost all the barrel fires from around the camp, along with familiar golden basins, were placed through the feast. Roaring and hot, they made the space glow, reflecting off golden skin and golden markings.
When we drew near, I understood why the males could go bare-chested and why Avuli had told me the cold wouldn’t be a problem. The plethora of fires heated the entire space, even thawing the ice on the ground below. Once we entered the feast, I could feel the flames licking against my skin and I knew I’d have to remove my pelt before the night’s end.
Next to the tall, broad Dakkari females, I felt small and out of place as we wound our way through the growing crowd.
“I see my father,” Avuli said. “Let’s go join him.”
I nodded, but she didn’t see. Arlah grabbed my hand, his small palm enveloped in mine, as we followed his mother and stopped in front of a small table where the weapons master sat, happily chatting with another older male to his right, a goblet of wine in his hand.
He saw his daughter and greeted her jovially in Dakkari, as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks. When his eyes turned to me, he grinned and said in the universal tongue, “And here is my favorite apprentice.”
“I am your only apprentice,mitri.”
“She crafted a near-perfect arrow today,” he told the older male before taking a healthy swallow from his goblet.
The older male, one I recognized from around camp, one of the elders, narrowed his gaze on me. I felt a decided chill from him and the smile died from my face.
He stood, saying something to mymitriin Dakkari, inclining his head at Avuli, ignoring me completely, before he departed the table.
I looked after him, swallowing, but Avuli ushered me to sit and mymitriwas pressing a goblet into my hand before I had time to think about the elder’s abrupt and cold departure.
The table was circular and high. I was so used to the low tables and sitting on my cushions to take meals that it seemed strange now, though the height and design were very similar to my table back at my village.
Now that I was sitting, I felt less uncomfortable, less out of place, and observed the feast at my leisure as Avuli and her father talked in the universal tongue for my benefit. I half-listened, taking a small sip of the wine, feeling it burn down my throat.
There were fifteen tables I counted, including a smaller table on a raised dais at the front of the feast. Each table was packed with Dakkari, with warriors and families and unmated females and children.
At the far corner, a group of older males and one female played four sets of drums, beating out a primal rhythm I felt deep in my chest. Groups stood next to the barrel fires, packing in all available space. I spied a group of females next to one, a few I recognized because they’d delivered Seerin’s meals once or twice. Females who vied for his attentions, females who’d made their distaste of me known.
I swallowed and looked away, searching the crowd for Seerin, though I knew he had yet to arrive. I didn’t feel that prickle of awareness whenever he was near.
However, it was only a short while later when he appeared. The crowd hushed and the drums died down when he entered the gathering and my heart picked up at the sight of him. I imagined every female’s heartbeat did the same because how could they not?
His golden hair was half tied back, revealing the hardened lines and edges of his jaw and nose and cheekbones. He wore his black pelt that night, but once he ascended the dais, he took it from his shoulders and draped it on the back of his chair, leaving him as bare-chested as the rest of the males.
He wore his golden cuffs on his thick wrists, his scars and markings on full display, reminding all present that he hadearnedhis right to beVorakkar, that he had earned his right to sit on that throne.
Seerin dropped into his seat as his horde watched him. I wondered if he felt every single pair of eyes on him—if he feltmine.
