Insult and favor

The guests sat after the King and as he tasted his wine nearly all of the guests began reaching for their own wine glasses. Conversations resumed and the hall buzzed cheerfully.

 

“Would it be rude to ask why you have a steel hand?” Vaeri inquired trying to imitate his mocking tone. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she sipped her wine.

 

His dark eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

 

“Good. Then we’ll be even and I will consider the insults removed.” She couldn’t keep her lips from twitching into a smile at the expression of shock and incredulous anger on his face. If he wanted to insult her repaying him wouldn’t be hard.

 

He shifted in his chair, pulling something into view which had been tucked behind his back. His left arm. His hand was malformed, a thick thumb and two fingers partially joined together, the rest missing. He looked at her as if he expected her to recoil.

 

She was startled and speechless but she quickly controlled her face. She noticed that his forearm lacked the bracer to match the other, likely because he had not expected to remove the glove. Plain black cloth covered his exposed arm to the wrist.

 

When she looked back into his hard angry eyes she smiled wryly. “I may have offered too much insult. Is there a way I might remove it?” She watched his head tilt and then twitch to the other side before straightening, a peculiarly Meazyr gesture of apology acceptance.

 

“Had je something to cover it witt it would be welcomed.” He began to tuck his arm behind him again.

 

“I do. If-” She felt her cheeks reddening, “If you wished to use my favor belt.” She looked at him, biting the inner corner of her lip as she waited for a response.

 

She watched his lips curve with amusement. “I would welcome it.”

 

She tried to discreetly untie and unwind the long scarf tightly wound around her waist. She had never given one away and hoped that the dress underneath really did match the belt well enough not to cause a stir. When she handed it to him under the level of the table his face was unreadable.

 

“Will je help me, Zoldendochter?” He pushed his left arm forward, turning in his chair and leaning, gripping the back of hers.

 

She was certain her cheeks must be scarlet. He was breathing on her neck as she wound the scarf around his arm where the bracer should have been. When she tied it carefully at his wrist she left a short length hanging and draped it lightly over his hand. He sat back almost reluctantly after she finished.

 

When she looked up to see who had noticed, her gaze met her uncle’s, he frowned disapprovingly. She sighed and looked down at her place setting, before picking up her wine and having another drink. The plates began to be filled shortly after.

 

The meal itself passed without conversation, she kept her gaze limited to her place setting and the lower tables as she ate. As soon as the meal finished, and the King rose bidding everyone to join him in the gardens, she tried to slip away, intending to go back to her lodging and postpone the berating she knew was coming.