Page 75 of Stars in Umbra
They were impossibly graceful, their movements like liquid shadow, their honeyed skin adorned with more intricate piercings and shimmering tattoos than anyone Rina had ever seen.
One by one, they bowed to Mo, their expressions a mix of respect and profound deference.
A few, particularly older males with eyes that held centuries of wisdom, extended a hand to kiss his ring.
Mo indulged them and met their gaze with a silent, firm nod, even as the energy around him thrummed with unspoken power.
‘Who are you?’ she murmured when they were alone at last.
‘Your dream come true.’
She shook her head, unimpressed. ‘A smooth talker for one with a freakin’ ego.’
‘Also, the man who makes you wet,’ he growled into her ear.
‘I won’t argue with that.’
‘Good, sit back and enjoy. The cuisine here is to die for, and you’ll need it to keep up with me later.’
He winked and she rolled her eyes, even as her tummy rumbled.
It brought to her attention the delicious aroma in the air, of butter-laden, roasted meat.
A platter soon arrived piled high and accompanied by sweet, baked Aurelian tubers.
Glasses of Lumian berry wine also appeared.
‘This is Iccythrian comfort food, hearty and unpretentious,’ her man said.
‘I can’t wait to dig in.’
Platters of flatbread, fragrant with butter and savory spices, sat alongside bowls of gild-root stew, its rich, creamy texture inviting.
‘Try this,’ Mo urged, spearing a piece of xylan’thar for her. ‘It’s a Ccyth specialty.’
Rina took a bite. The steak was tender, infused with smoky herbs. ‘Fokk,’ she murmured, surprised. ‘That’s incredible.’
‘Naam,’ he grunted, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.
After they ate, a group of Iccythrians gathered around a generous table in the center of the room, playing a raucous game; their movements were fluid and graceful, even as their laughter rang out.
‘Cards?’
‘We play a version of Five Crowns, called, ‘Crimson Coil’. It involves intricately carved bone tiles and a rapid-fire exchange of calculated bluffs and daring risks.’
The air crackled with competitive energy, the gamers’ guttural laughs echoing through the space.
Mo, of course, soon got invited to join.
‘With me, beautiful,’ he rasped into Rina’s ear.
Intrigued, she let him pull her up and to the games table, where he sat with easy confidence.
He tucked her to his side, keeping either a hand on her thigh or around her waist as he played, making it clear to all that Rina was his woman.
Mo wielded the cards with ruthless efficiency, his long fingers manipulating the tiles with practiced ease.
The other players, even those who seemed proficient, succumbed to his skill, their piles of credits dwindling as his grew.
