“What?” I breathed and she laughed softly, getting closer.

“Something else you need to get used to, my dear,” she bumped me with her hip then looked down at the fabric, her lips twitching, “the walls of tents are thin. And, especially with the Dax, people listen.”

Oh my God.

“People heard us?” I breathed (yes, again!).

“You were shouting,” she answered on another wicked grin.

Oh my God!

“Then you were moaning and crying out,” she chuckled as I stared at her in mortification, “the spoils of victory for King Lahn, I’m sure.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered, she threw back her head and laughed then she wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me away from the fabric stall, still chuckling as I noticed Sheena grinning unabashedly at me.

She knew too.

And she was twelve!

The horror!

“Settle, my dear,” Diandra urged on a squeeze of my waist when the look of mortification stayed rooted on my face, “this is good,” her face dipped to mine, “very good. His people could not know his words of the wedding rite were true. But last night, you proved them true. Shouting at a king?” She shook her head in mock disapproval all the while tsk tsking and I knew it was mock because she was grinning the whole time. “That’s not done, Dahksahna Circe. Only the bravest heart and fiercest spirit in the soul of a woman would risk challenging a mighty warrior king.” She gave me another squeeze, looked away and murmured, “Well done, my dear.”

Okay, shit, I was in trouble.

“Um… Diandra?” I called as she moved us to a trinket stand filled with bangles, earrings, delicate chain bracelets and necklaces and all sorts of cool shit for hair, Sheena trailing and stopping around the side of the table where the wares were laid out.

Diandra fingered a silver hair pin with what looked like a garnet in it and murmured, “Mm?”

“What does trahyoo mean?” I asked and her eyes came to me.

“It means, sleep, in the imperative. As in ahnoo, which is imperative, ahnay would be used if you were to say,” she picked up the pin, “‘I like this’ or in Korwahk, ‘Kay ahnay sah’ But if you were to want to put emphasis on it, say, if you were a king… or a queen, where you expect your merest whim obeyed, you would say, ‘I like this.’ Or ‘Kay ahnoo sah.’ Therefore, if you are ordering someone to sleep, you wouldn’t say, ‘trahyay’ you would order, ‘trahyoo’.”

“Oh,” I whispered and she put the pin down. Then I asked softly, “And mayoo?”

I watched her profile smile a smile I knew was knowing even getting only half of it. “An order again. Faster.”

Shit. Well, I was right about that one.

“You would say mayay if you were not commanding it,” she explained further.

“Right,” I said softly then I mumbled, “Um…” I picked up a set of gold bangles inlaid with tiny seed pearls and continued, “and, uh… what does… lapah meer-something kah lira anahl mean?”

I felt her eyes on me. “Lapah meer… kah lira anahl?”

I looked to her. “Um… I think so.”

Her head tipped to the side in confusion and Sheena piped up to suggest, “Lapoo meera kah liros anah. Anah, Loola. Anah,” she finished with emphasis, my eyes swung back to Diandra and I saw light had dawned.

“Yes, lapoo meera kah liros anah. This means ‘is between my legs tonight’.” Diandra explained and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as my stomach clenched, Diandra saw the pink instantly, smiled gently and got close. “Not what you’re thinking,” she said softly. “The men gather tonight. Tomorrow, the Dax is choosing his new warriors. Tonight, the men will celebrate as only men can – being loud, drinking a lot and watching warriors beat each other half to death.”

I felt the blood that rushed to my face drain away and Diandra caught that too so she shook her head.

“No, Dahksahna Circe, it isn’t like that. It’s sport. Or, they think it is. It’s harmless. That isn’t to say warriors don’t get beaten bloody but they want it and like it. They train for it. A test of strength, endurance. They like to show off and it helps to settle the order of things, who is strongest, who needs to get stronger, who is faster, who needs to get faster, who is more tactical, who needs to learn strategy. And the others who do not participate enjoy it with much enthusiasm. That said, Seerim has long since stopped taking me. I, on the other hand, don’t enjoy it. The warrior wives don’t.” She got closer. “And, my dear, the good thing is, not many men allow their women in, wanting their wives to be with them while they commune with their brethren.” Her eyes got bright. “And it is very rare indeed, so rare I have never heard of it, that a new warrior husband would honor his bride with wanting her attendance. It usually takes months, even years and sometimes doesn’t happen at all.” My heart skipped a beat but then it stopped altogether when she finished, “And when you attend, you sit on the ground between his legs.”

I stared at her.

Great. Just great.

“I sit on the ground?” I asked and she nodded. “Between his legs?” I went on to clarify and she smiled.

“It isn’t what you think,” she told me and I looked to the bangles.

“Oh yes it is,” I mumbled and her hand came to my chin, pulling it up so I would look into her understanding eyes.

“It is for some of the warriors, my dear, just what you think,” she said quietly. “For others, it is a way of being close to a loved one while enjoying something he likes very much.” She leaned in. “For a king and his long awaited bride, taking her to the games just five short days after he claimed her, my guess is, it’s the latter.”

I stared at her again and breathed, “He doesn’t love me.”

Her head tipped to the side and her lips tipped up.

“It is said, throughout history, that many a great warrior, in fact, the strongest and fiercest, have fallen in love with their brides simply by gazing upon them in the parade.” Her hand slid over my cheek and she suggested, “Perhaps this has happened to you.”

I thought about that morning. I thought about the last four days. I thought she was very wrong.

Then I stated, “I don’t think so.”

Her hand dropped, she stepped away and turned back to the trinkets. Then she said to the trinkets, “Many a Wife Hunt has gone by where King Lahn has watched the parade and let it pass him by. His people have waited for years for him to claim his bride. A warrior, any warrior but a warrior like King Lahn especially, has not developed a vast array of feelings. They war. They pillage. They plunder. They fight. They train. They do not form close alliances with their brethren for there are many opportunities for them to fall. They are rarely, in some cases never touched by kindness, a soft hand, a warm gaze and most certainly not before they’re wed.” Her eyes turned to me and locked on mine. “Many humans do not need that, can live their entire lives without it, but some cannot and fewer still of those are warriors.” She paused. “But they exist.”