Page 33 of Zalis
Absurd.
Lyresh huffed. “Tell me about her.”
He was reluctant to share Gemma’s abduction by traffickers, being held in a cage, or the injuries she endured. He did not want those experiences to define Gemma in his mother’s eyes. She was more than that.
“She is a baker.”
Lyresh gasped in delight. “A human baker! How exciting. Human cuisine is very popular with the wealthy and influential, according to the gossipcasts. Imagine the look on Deora’s face when I have a human caterer?—”
“Mother, Gemma is not your personal caterer.”
She waved a hand, as if erasing her statement, but Zalis could see her plotting. Lyresh viewed Deora as a bitter rival at the Mahdfel Academy. Neither were instructors—that honor went to his father—but both served on the events committee. “Yes, of course. When will you visit? I want to meet my daughter.”
“I cannot say. The warlord has entrusted me with a complex mission.”
“Not even for a day?”
“Mother—”
“Oh, I understand. Things are new and you do not want your parents intruding. What is her favorite color? No, her favorite food. I’m sure it is interesting.”
“I do not know.”
“Her family?”
“She has a sister.”
“No one else? You always hear about humans having an overpopulation problem.”
“I am unsure.” Neither Emry nor Gemma mentioned other family members.
“What are her hobbies? What are her interests?”
Again, Zalis was at a loss.
“Do you know anything about your mate?” Lyresh asked, her tone soft and pitying.
Zalis knew several things. She refused to be broken by her captors. She had nightmares. She held his hand as she fell asleep, placing all her confidence in him to keep the nightmares at bay. She chose him, out of fear or necessity. Zalis did not care. She chose him. No one else.
He could share none of those things with his mother.
“She has a fractured ankle. We spent our time being lectured by the medic.”
“Poor darling,” Lyresh said, all sympathy. “Earth sent her in that condition?”
Zalis dodged the question with a confession. “You were correct. I am nervous. I am unfamiliar with Earth courting customs.”
Lyresh surprised him with a confession of her own. “I was nervous when I met your father. I was ordered to attend a social, and I dreaded it. Those things are always too crowded, and no one wants to be there.”
Zalis had heard the story of how his parents met many times. Before the genetic testing, eligible females were issued invitations for social events. Eligible warriors were granted their invitation via lottery. Tickets were both reviled and coveted.
Matches were made based entirely on physical attraction and a vague sense of correctness. As much as Zalis disliked how arbitrary the genetic match was, it had some logic. A match made in person based oncorrectness? Speaking to strangers to determine said correctness? The experience could only be humiliating.
The test was better. It was impartial.
“You were nearly there and decided to return home,” Zalis said, continuing the story.
“I was there, outside, but I never went in. My feet were aching. I borrowed shoes from my sister and they were too small.” Lyresh laughed. “I was nearly home and this Mahdfel chases me down, holding a pair of slippers. He said?—”
