This time around, he was obviously more concerned with the peace these contracts secured, but the thought of something more developing from it made his heart beat a little faster. Aye, short timing or no, his heart and head were racing in a direction leading straight to Saga.
He did not know the custom here and there were no couples to observe, so he went with his gut. Breaking off a piece of juicy meat, Giric offered it to Saga. He realized his mistake when she merely looked at it and blinked.
“You wish to feed me?”
“Aye,” he said. “’Tis custom for a laird to offer the best cuts to his lady.” He held his breath when she glanced from the meat to him then back again.
“Do you expect me to feed you too?” she asked, her brows drawing tight.
“No, of course not,” he said, pleased when her expression relaxed, and she smiled.
“Then I respect your custom, but I decline. There can be nothing more insulting than one person feeding another like an animal.”
Giric received the point loud and clear. He would not try that again. Glancing down the length of the table he noticed Osgar shaking his head and grinning. Bastard.
He watched as those around him enjoyed their meal, taking in everything he could about their customs. It appeared that much like at his own table, except for the honour of offering the lady the best meat, they ate like he did, with their hands. Someone had told him that they did not formally sit at tables, rather sat around the cooked meat and pulled it off as they needed. And perhaps in some less-formal gatherings they did just that.
“Do you not like your food?” Saga asked.
He had not realized he’d stopped eating altogether. “I do enjoy it, thank you. I am interested in learning your culture and where better than at a feast where people converse freely and are enjoying themselves.”
“For what purpose do you wish to know our culture?”
“I know you have your reservations, but if we are to make these alliances work, we must understand one another. Do you not agree?”
“I wish it were not necessary,” she said and gazed out over the crowd.
“Does that mean you are warming to the idea?” If she answered yes, he would consider it a major advancement. Was it possible for her to see the value in the alliance?
“I did not say that. I believe our culture will be lost if we ally with you in this way.”
“Do you not see the benefits?” He held his breath.
“My sister does. She is curious about the world. I am interested in keeping it safe.”
“We have the same goal, you and I.”
She turned to him. He put his food down and let his breath out slowly as he hooked the ale horn in its iron stand and wiped his hands. She did not speak right away, rather her gaze fell across his features. He tried to slow his increasing pulse as she examined him, but in truth her scrutiny excited him.
“You are an attractive man,” she said.
He chuckled. “Thank you.”
“You must have women at your home who are good enough to marry. Why come here?”
It was a good question. He did not come looking for a wife for himself specifically, rather an arrangement that would benefit both sides and encourage peace.
“My intentions are to form a peaceful alliance to avoid further bloodshed. Is that not appealing to you? Do you not want the same thing?”
“But why does it have to come from marriage?”
“Because that way we are forced to have a better understanding of one another, and with that we can build peace.”
“That could come from talks, could it not?” She shook her head. “You do not need to answer that question. I already know that men do not talk, they take.”
“Saga, may I ask you a question?”
He had to bring this up, but there really was no way to do so without offending her or her people. But she contradicted herself at every turn. She wanted to fight to protect, yet she criticized peaceful efforts to negotiate; she wanted to preserve culture, yet her people had forcefully claimed the land on which they sat at this very moment.
