Page 109 of The Warlord's Princess
“Yes—yes—of course!” She clasps her hands together and bounces on the balls of her feet.
I place my hand on her head, pressing down. “You are too heavy with child for that.”
She scowls for all of a second before a wide smile claims her lips.
“Tell no one!” I growl.
She nods vigorously. “No one!”
“Now leave.”
She obeys, giggling.
First, I ready myself. Then I tend to Harold, who mislikes the bath I give him. I use the Penticari’s soaps so that he does not smell offensive to the women, and then I dress him in the clothes Kairi made for him.
It is at dusk when the tribes gather outside of the longhouse, with every woman attending and nearly all of the men.
In my finest leathers, I join the festivities with Harold perched on my shoulder.
There is a large table full of food, with one side made for the Penticari, the opposite, the Tempest men, and the middle, a mix that some have grown to like.
I am pleased to see the Penticar women have taken to wearing decorative blankets Asha wove around their bodies, making them look soft and curvy.
Nori stands across the way. I give her a nod. She nods back, showing that she knows what must be done.
A biting ribbon rips through the air, causing many to yelp, but it does not stop their merriment.
Men and women chat excitedly with each other, though there are a few holdouts, such as Orvell, who is standing gloomily off to the side with a leaf full of food.
He will learn.
The longhouse door opens, and Asha joins the celebration, carrying a basket.
Her golden hair dances in the glow of the fire, like threads of sunlight, and for a long moment, all I can do is stare.
Arwin comes alongside her, whispering in her ear.
Asha giggles, searches the crowd, her eyes landing on me.
Anxiety flickers in her eyes.
“Good folk of Melgrim,” Elena’s voice booms over the bustling crowd, and I look to see her standing on a table with Grixis standing just off to the side. “Welcome to our first Come Together Festival, where tonight, we will join in feast, talk, dance, and merriment.”
The Penticari clap and cheer, and a few Tempest men join in.
Elena continues. “I would like to thank the hunters for supplying the food, Krek for the intoxicants, the Penticari for the decorations, and Grixis for allowing us to bring Penticari custom to the tribes.”
More cheers erupt, and I find myself clapping, looking at Asha, but she seems to avoid my gaze.
Grixis clears his throat, drawing our attention to him. “From this night forward, there is not two—as we have become one. Celebrate with me on this joyous occasion. Drink intoxicant toloosen your tongue, get lost in chatter and courtship, dance the night away, as the Penticari like to say, and above all—come together!”
One tribe.
As it should be.
Two Penticari women stand behind barrels with leather stretched over them, similar to a war drum, and beat the leather with their hands, making a rhythmic sound.
Many of the men are nervous about the dancing, for on Tempest, we danced for war and not courtship, with blades, swords, and daggers.
