Page 28 of Sunsplitter

Shaking.

A tremor gripped Antal’s shoulders. When he faced her, his eyes were gem-cut agony.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never wanted you to see this.”

Fi hadn’t seen him quake like this after a coup demolished his capitol building. Not when she’d collected him near-dead from Tyvo Territory after failed negotiations.

She’d had a hard enough time biting her tongue during dinner. She hadn’t had to sit across from that monster, hadn’t borne the brunt of his sharp-toothed condescension. She hadn’t been close enough to get that human’s blood spatter on her cheeks. Though Fi’s stomach roiled—excellent call, eating before coming to this wretched place—she swallowed the nausea like a teenager chugging cheap wine.

Right now, Antal needed her.

“I’m glad you ate,” Fi said. “You needed it.”

Her words only sharpened his scowl. “Too much waste. There should have been others to share the meal. My father’s kezri.”

Another word Fi didn’t know. She’d have to start a list. “Kezri?”

“Other daeyari loyal to Avroz.”

“Oh… like servants?”

Antal bared a fang. “Daeyari don’t keep each other as servants. Kezri share prey, in return for work.”

“Oh. Likeemployees?”

“More like family, but not by blood. A pack. Since most daeyari families stay small.”

Kezri did sound similar to kezros, the daeyari word for home.

“But I should have known Avroz would want a private welcome,” Antal continued. “I should have warned you about…” His tail drooped. “You shouldn’t have gone out there.”

Fi wanted to touch him. She wanted to cradle his cheeks in her hands, whisper soft words into his neck until his breathing calmed. It was subconscious, that step she took toward him.

“No.” His command, a low snap. “Not here.”

Of course. That was what they’d agreed, no interspecies affection while they were in hostile territory.

Fi inspected the room, having missed the chance to do so earlier. The bed had dark sheets and one of those strange pillows Antal kept at home, mostly supporting his neck, leaving room for antlers. No rugs to warm the stone floor. Scarce books on the shelves. A gramophone. Of course he had a gramophone, nudged into a corner like a hidden vice.

Antal paced around a table, pausing beside the one sign of fresh life: a vase with flowers. They smelled sweet as jasmine. The white petals were narrower, snowy stardrops beneath the brush of Antal’s claw.

Fi hadn’t known he possessed a state more dismal than wet cat.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t draw any attention, as promised. After all, I’m just a simple vavraesa.”

Antal cast her a slow, wary look.

Ah. So he’d purposefully not taught her that one.

“I didn’t think you’d like the name,” he said.

“Rest assured, I hate it.Antler-less.” Fi tapped a finger to her chin. “Not impossible to remedy. I’ve got two daeyari antlers at home.” One cut off Tyvo during their duel. One kept from Verne’s corpse. “Not symmetrical, but enough for a fine hat?”

She’d hoped the tease would draw a laugh.

Antal’s shoulders slumped. “Not now, Fionamara. Not… here.”

How dare he underestimate her persistence.