Cultural differences (1)

When the water starts to cool down, it's time to end the bath.

I've been staring at the Duke for the whole time, and he didn't turn even once. I don't know his name yet, but I can't bring myself to ask.

He has been reading a book for a while, using the light of a small lantern. The rest of the room is illuminated by the giant chandelier pending from the roof. It has tens of candles and some pretty stones that reflect the light all over the place.

When I was brought in the throne hall, it was already late in the afternoon. By now, dinner time must have come.

Still, the Duke isn't hurrying me to finish my bath.

The water has become of a colour I wish could be forgotten. It's cold and full of dirt, so I have to get out. Still, I don't want to expose my body once more. It's a stupid concern, but I can't help it.

When staying in the tub becomes more uncomfortable than walking around naked, I decide with a sigh to get out. I wrap my body in the towels found on a chair nearby, and I consider whether to wear back the black dress. It's lying on the floor, a few steps from the door.

To reach it, I have to walk by the Duke. I don't want to catch his attention.

I don't want that dress anymore either. It smells awful, and I want to forget the state my body was in just an hour ago.

«Open the wardrobe, the right panel,» the Duke utters without moving.

The wardrobe is behind, so I just turn around. I do as the Duke told me, and I find some dresses hung in there. There are also socks, underwear and everything a woman could need, including a couple of soft room-slippers.

The clothes are all in the style we use in Polis, so I'm able to wear them without help.

In Ethiro, they use different layers, and each of them requires a complicated procedure to be worn. The ladies wear long skirts that use more space than what is acceptable, and they have to help themselves with their hands if they want to walk without tripping. They cage their torso in tight corsets, trying to look as slim as possible.

In Polis, though, the climate is warmer, and we like to be free in both movements and behaviour. My clothes are all high waisted, light gowns. They're loose enough to let me walk as fast as I want, and they let the wind caress my skin while walking in the royal garden.

«You can wear what you want if you don't get out of this part of the palace. When you get to the court, though, you'll have to wear Ethirians clothes,» the Duke explains, probably imagining the grin on my face.

My head nods, showing him that this Queen is not misunderstanding his intentions. It was rather obvious. Yet, it's nice that he allows me to stay comfortable at least in my private time. It makes me feel less desperate.

«From tomorrow, the maids will help you with clothes and hairstyle. Is it all right?»

«I don't think that my opinion has any value,» I point out while choosing a mauve gown. I also wear socks because this stone palace starts to feel cold.

My body is covered just in time.

Someone knocks, and the Duke turns towards me for the first time. He doesn't insist: he glances for a second, just to confirm that all that needs to be covered is under the vests.

Once he's checked that I'm presentable, he walks to the door and opens it. Two servants come in, bringing dinner.

I walk to a chair nearby, paying little attention to my surroundings.

While rubbing my hair with a towel, I sit far from the table they're setting. I pretend not to be influenced by the scent of the food, not to show a savage part of my character to the world.

In truth, I'd like to run to the table and eat all that's on it. Hunger is consuming my stomach, right now... I thought I wouldn't eat ever again, and here I am, lusting for food like a wild beast.

The Duke dismisses the servants and turns towards me. My fingers are now combing my hair, trying to braid it. He observes me for a few seconds, and then he crosses his arms. He looks like he wants to say something but doesn't have the right words in mind.

«Are you hungry?» he inquires after a while, keeping his voice still.

Since determining what he's unhappy about is too much of a challenge, I just shrug. I'm not sure I'm allowed to be hungry, right now, so it's better to stay vague with my answers. It will be unpleasant if my behaviour triggers his rage at the wrong moment.

The fact that he hasn't done anything yet doesn't mean that he won't do it in the future.

«Well, I'm starving,» he utters and sits on the table.

I bite my lips while pondering on my opportunities. The most simplistic choice would be to eat. After all, I can't continue like this.

Still, accepting his food would mean accepting his hospitality as well, with all that comes with it.

I eye the table, and I notice the most succulent chicken I've ever seen in my life. Damn it, I love chicken!

It's surrounded by vegetables and what look like mushrooms. We don't eat much of those in Polis. I bet Ethiro cuisine has its savoury recipes. They don't eat all the fish and sea fruits we do, but it's said they're the best when talking about meat.

I swallow, while my stomach starts to contract in complaint and my mouth waters.

The Duke reaches out for the food and chooses a leg.

Oh, not the leg! There are only two.

I have to quickly decide if I want to eat or not, or it wouldn't be worth the choice. If I have to come to terms with my tenacity, I want at least a drumstick. And now there is only one left.

I sigh, wondering whether the Duke could predict my tastes. The dresses in the wardrobe are beautiful, the chicken is among my favourite dishes. Even the bath aromas were exceptional, perfect for my tastes.

In the end, I sit in front of him, avoiding his gaze.

I've just decided to humour him and make him fall for me, but it's harder than thought. And it's so different from what this Queen used to be.

A second before I can fill my plate, though, the Duke peels off the other thigh of the chicken, and I bite my tongue to suppress a complaint.

It must be my punishment for surviving after losing a war. I should have made more trouble so that the Emperor had one more reason to kill me. I've accepted to sit here just for the juiciest part of this chicken. It's not worth it if I have to settle with the breast or the wings!

I fight back the tears and press my lips one against the other. This world is so cruel.

Instead of filling his plate, the Duke places the meat in mine. I lift my head and look at him for the first time since the start of the dinner. My eyes widen while my heart tries to ignore this sudden feeling of gratitude.

When our eyes meet, the Duke smiles gently.

This Queen can't be bought just with a drumstick! Still, I'm suddenly so happy to have one. If he offered me the other one as well, I might have fallen in love.

«This is the best part,» he comments. I can't help but nod in agreement.

Oh, so that's it. The Duke doesn't know a thing about my tastes. After all, how could he? It must be that we're actually similar.

It makes more sense than to think the Duke prepared all of this just for me. I've been his wife for a little more than an hour, and he probably arrived a day earlier than the rest of the troops. He couldn't have had the time to prepare anything exclusively for me.

The dresses must be from a random shop in Polis, the chicken could be a coincidence, and the salts are meant to smell good.

He likes what I like, and that's not too difficult to believe. After all, I don't have weird tastes.

However, is this how he managed to predict my moves, during the siege? Because he would have done the same?

I move my eyes on the plate and look at it without truly seeing it, regardless of how much my stomach longed for it just a few seconds ago.

Could I have prevented the fall of Polis, if I didn't understate the person sitting in front of me? Was cutting our water supplies all a bluff to lure me out? Did he already know that I would sign anything in exchange for my people's safety?

The truth will probably stay hidden forever.