“It’s so good, my lady,” I gushed, a little giddily.
Was it too early for alcohol since I’d just woken up a little while ago? Maybe. But I didn’t care. The fragrant fumes clouded my brain, making me feel warm and fuzzy inside. For the first time since I was taken by the traders, I didn’t worry about my life or my future. I was able to relax. Tension drained from my mind and my muscles, and that was a wondrous thing.
With my belly finally full, I looked around the tent, noticing other things beside the food and the table. It was a lavishly furnished space with thick rugs on the floor, carved wood stands by the walls, and gold-framed pictures of intricate mosaics on almost every surface. Glowing coals in the shiny brass braziers kept the place toasty warm, and the dense tent walls kept the ocean breeze out.
“How long are you staying here, my lady?” I asked.
“Oh, not for a moment longer than necessary,” she replied. “This area is not a fashionable place to visit. We arrived about two hours ago, and we’ll be tearing the camp down the minute our meeting is over.”
“Did you come here all this way just for me? All this setup for a dinner you didn’t even eat?” I glanced over my shoulder.
She was sitting with her back to me. Her long, straight hair streamed down the cushions she was leaning on. The strands on the very top of her head were woven into an intricate crown decorated with precious beads and golden chains.
“The joy you’re feeling right now, my dear, already made this journey worth the trouble,” she murmured, stretching her legs in dainty strappy sandals in front of her. “When I travel, I always bring as many comforts from home as my people can carry.”
Too full to eat anything more now, I nibbled on a grape. There was still so much food left on the table. I wished I couldtake it all with me, especially since I’d be hungry again by morning and then would probably have to rely on Timur to feed me.
I turned to look at him by the entrance. He presented a quiet but menacing figure, cloaked in black like a sentinel guarding my joy. I wondered when he’d eaten last. Shadow fae could live without food much longer than humans, but that didn’t mean they didn’t feel hunger or didn’t suffer from it.
The lady must’ve sensed the dip in my joy that was momentarily overpowered by concern because she stirred, sitting up straighter.
“Well, if we’re done here…” she said, sounding ready to end the dinner.
“Um,” I said quickly, not giving myself a chance to overthink it. “Allow me to share one more joy with you, my lady.”
“What would that be?” She sounded intrigued.
“The joy of sharing.” I grabbed my empty plate and piled the leftover food onto it, mostly choosing the dishes that shadow fae usually ate, like rice and meat. “Could you pass the plate to that man in the chair by the door, please?” I asked one of the servants, giving her the plate and my utensil since there was no other.
With the lady’s tendrils in myleilathas, I didn’t have the range to take the plate to Timur myself. The servant took the plate from my hands, then looked at her mistress for guidance.
I closed my eyes, creating a mental image of Timur’s stomach that was likely empty and possibly shriveled from hunger. I imagined it filling up with food and the satisfaction it would give him. Then I focused on my unexplained but undeniable joy from having him fed.
The lady nodded, giving her permission, and the woman brought the plate to Timur.
He stared at it for a long moment during which I feared he would refuse it. Then he took it with his left hand, and my heart soared. It must be the wine fumes in my brain, but I felt almost giddy with happiness as he accepted my offering. Being full just didn’t feel the same when I knew that someone else was hungry.
With a glint of his blue eye at me from the shadows of his hood, he rested the plate on his knee, then lifted the utensil and started eating.
“Should we have another glass of wine?” I suggested to the lady, giving Timur time to finish his dinner in no hurry.
“Oh yes, we should,” she agreed enthusiastically as I lifted my glass for the servant to refill.
I took a sip, making sure to enjoy the warmth spreading through my veins.
“It’s a pretty good wine,” I said.
“Is it?” the lady perked up. “It’s so fortuitous that you like it. We don’t normally keep wine in the house. Mother bought a bottle to use in a potion she was going to order from a hag. She’ll be furious once she finds out it’s gone. But I’ve heard that Joy Vessels in the queen’ssarailove drinking wine, and your joy from it is certainly worth facing Mother’s wrath upon my return.”
Her mentioning her mother made me pause.
“Are you even old enough to drink wine, my lady?” I asked, sitting sideways to see her better.
Even if I could see her face in every detail, it was hard to tell age with shadow fae. They were often taller than me at almost every age. They lost all signs of childhood by the age humans did, then their appearance remained largely unchanged for the majority of their lives.
“Is there a certain age requirement to drink wine?” she sounded confused.
Since shadow fae could only experience the wine’s intoxicating effect through humans, there was no risk for them to drink it at any age, I supposed. But they generally disliked its taste and used wine only for medicinal and magical purposes.
