Page 28 of Queen Isabella

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled with an incredulous shake of her head.

Artifex examined the bowl of fruit, carefully picked a berry then brought it to her lips. “These arejofiberries.”

She opened her mouth and accepted the berry. “Mmm,” she moaned, chewing the juicy sweet treat that was more reminiscent of a peach than a berry.

“You like it?” Artifex asked, but his smile indicated he already knew the answer.

Isa nodded as she swallowed, while trying to remember the name of the berry for later.

Artifex popped one in his mouth. “Ah yes, nice and ripe,” he purred.

Artifex was talking about the berry, and yet the way he intensely stared at her made her question if that was truly the case, or was he talking about her?

“Would you like another or would you like to try…something else?” he asked, the pause catching her attention.

A thrill coursed through her. Was that also a suggestive question? Surely, she was just imagining that. She had sex on the brain after the wild escapade they’d just participated in. Not everything was a tawdry innuendo. Was it?

With a nervous laugh, Isa pulled her gaze from Artifex and looked at the selection available. One of the dishes reminded her of fresh cooked green beans.

“How about we try these?” She grabbed one of the green pods.

“My queen!” Artifex reprimanded her as he captured her hand and took the bean.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. He really was serious about being the one to feed her. “I’m just not used to this.” She nibbled her lip.

Back home, she and her mother waited on her father and brother. They didn’t hand feed the men like they were babies, but damn close as far as she was concerned. Her sister Ruth did the same for her own family, and so did every other woman she knew. She was raised to think that was normal, that men were helpless when it came to domestic duties. Except, that was just crap. Her eyes were opened when she was young and her mother got a nasty case ofziktheria.It put her in the hospital for days and left her bedridden for nearly a month. Yet still the men in her family couldn’t lift a finger. Her mom nearly killed herself trying to overdo it too early and the men were oblivious. She was only seven and she saw the toll it was taking. The whole incident added to her decision to swear off men. Though, since single women couldn’t own property or even lease without a male cosigner, that left her living at home. Isa always consoled herself by saying she was helping relieve her mother’s burden, but she lived for the out-of-town archaeology digs that gave her a chance to get away. Regardless, this kind of treatment made her feel guilty, since she was more than capable.

Artifex tapped the bean against her lip, pulling Isa out of her thoughts. She opened her mouth.

“This isharicot,” he said as he popped it into her mouth.

Isa nodded while chewing, tilting her head as she tried to identify the flavors.

“Tastes like zucchini with some sort of dressing,” she decided.

Artifex popped his finger into his mouth. “Ah, amucetglaze. It’s very light. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. Of course.” Isa nodded. “I am not a picky eater. I believe that unless something makes a person sick, you eatwhat’s in front of you and value the effort of the cook. There’s nothing worse than someone being rude after you’ve worked hard on a meal.” She’d witnessed that nonsense a million times and it annoyed her to no end. She made hundreds of meals, occasionally the meat was going to be a little overdone. Whenever Saul complained, it was an instant guarantee his next meal was overcooked. “Thank you, I appreciate all of your effort and theharicotis very good.” She smiled genuinely at the cooks who were gathered around and gave them a little bow, or at least the best bow she could while seated on the table.

There were numerous gasps and the cooks’ mouths opened in shock.

What did I say wrong?Her gaze swung to Artifex.

“You said nothing wrong,” he chuckled. “It was the bow that stunned them. It’s not right for a queen to bow, though you can do whatever you wish, beautiful.” He smiled at her. “And thank you for your kind words. You don’t know how deeply your gratitude is appreciated.” Artifex bowed to her.

“Oh,” she said in understanding, recalling how Bellator, Artifex, and Phara reacted poorly when she bowed to them in the bed chamber. She hadn’t done it wrong; she wasn’t supposed to do it at all. That made sense now.

“It is my honor,” the group of cooks said at once as they bowed low.

It was so strange to hear the concert of voices in her head without a single mouth moving. Some of the cooks were also purring which meant they were happy. That made her smile. Their language was truly fascinating with its two layers, the audible and the telepathic, three layers if you added expressions and gestures. It felt like she’d been plucked out of her life and dropped into one of the ancient civilizations books she’d read. This was exciting and daunting all in the same breath.

Artifex turned to the group. “Thank you all, but if we don’t get back to work, there won’t be a Bonding Feast later.”

Artifex was congenial as he reminded them, and the cooks returned to work. They all had chevron patterns on their chests with the inset circle, similar to Artifex. If she understood the hierarchy right, that meant they were all members of the servitor caste and answered to him, the way the soldiers answered to Bellator, and the consorts to Phara. Although the Vorto answered to their alphas, there didn’t seem to be an uncomfortable balance of power. Too often the leaders back home lorded their power over the people instead of serving them.

As she was considering the Vorto social structure, a tiny bonbon appeared in front of her.

“Thanks.” Isa opened her mouth.

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