Torgan Wine Ch. 24

She tilted her head trying to understand his meaning.

"They wish you to be treated as an untouched flower." Shoban's smirk could be heard before she turned her head to see it. "My cousin will not be permitted to bed you until you marry him properly. They cannot challenge the King when he says you are to be treated as Prince Draeseth's wife, but they will not allow you to fully live as his wife until it is formalized. For the good of his soul and yours, of course."

"If that's what he chooses I won't press him." Her lips twisted with disappointment. "His religion is very important to him, and I respect that. But my soul isn't something they need to be overly concerned with; I have my own Gods to look to if I have concerns."

Rogath's face split into a wicked grin, "And they do not mind if you have several lovers."

"They don't, it's actually encouraged. But until the next Festival, my Draeseth is the only man I can have. To do otherwise would earn Tyhnoth's displeasure. It would be breaking my word and he frowns on that."

"Which God is Tyhnoth? The name sounds familiar." Burgath asked curiously as breakfast was brought.

Heaped plates of eggs, chicken livers, other less identifiable meats, and breads were brought for the three of them and for her a bowl of yogurt with honey generously drizzled over it as well as a plate with a portion of some kind of pale mashed substance that did not appear to be apple. A mug of hot tea was also served to her and when she sipped it she smiled, silphium. She nearly forgot to answer the question, wondering why Burgath was looking at her expectantly.

"I'm sorry I got distracted by the food. Tyhnoth is the God of death. His priests preside over the courts of justice. All fall under their purview because all fall under his."

Burgath inclined his head looking speculative and let the matter drop.

The three Torgans chatted to each other as they ate; their guttural language sounded surprisingly soothing as she ate her yogurt. It wasn't as custardy as what she was accustomed to in Leria, but it was still good and she managed to eat all of it. She was eyeing the plate of what was supposedly apple mash dubiously when she heard Rogath laugh.

"You look at that as if you have never seen it before."

"I haven't." Isonei looked at him with a wry smile. "What is it?"

"Apple mash. It's usually served with a proper meal but," he paused, "What do they call them? Dirt apples?" Rogath narrowed his eyes as she covered her mouth in horror.

Burgath began to laugh, "In Aran dirt apples are horse shit, brother. Arans call them potatoes." He grinned as Rogath began to mutter in Torgan, "Lady Isonei, if you hear a Torgan speaking of dirt apples, that is what they mean, the root vegetable that is brown on the outside and white on the inside. You will often find it mashed and served with meals; this has regular apples mashed in it as well. Try it."

She was prodding it tentatively with her spoon when Rogath sighed and muttered again taking it away from her. He put a bite larger than she had intended to take on the spoon and gave her an unamused look, "I have two daughters. My servants tried to spoil them and let them be picky with their food; I stepped in to make them eat. That I would have to do the same with my brother's wife is ridiculous."

"I was going to try it!" Isonei looked at him feeling more surprised than offended.

He handed her the spoon. "Eat."

"You are very much like my Draeseth." She took the spoon and gave him an annoyed look before eating the bite on the spoon. The combination seemed strange. It wasn't entirely unpleasant but she wasn't hungry enough to want a second bite.

Burgath made what sounded like a teasing comment to Rogath in Torgan and earned a glare.

"I have been told they do have a great many similarities." Shoban seemed to be needling Rogath and Isonei looked at him with a frown.

"They're both beautiful men, but what I meant was that they share a certain impatience and commanding attitude."

"Thank you, Lady Isonei." Rogath looked mildly amused. "To say a man has a commanding presence is a compliment; it tends to be shown by a 'certain impatience' quite often. From the look you gave me I take it you don't approve?"

"It isn't that, it's just that he does it all the time." She gestured at Rogath, "I don't need to be commanded at the table. You and your brother, your Highness, seem to think that if things don't happen exactly as you want them to-" Isonei began snapping her fingers and imitated Draeseth's annoyed expression. The three Torgans roared with laughter.

"I am not quite as bad tempered as my brother." Rogath leaned back in his chair. "He can be difficult, but he is trustworthy and reliable. If he was not so damned religious I would have him around me more. It makes him insufferable."

"Really? To me he seems calmer and more pleasant when he's been praying, but... he also seemed happier outside of Torga." The sound Rogath made in his throat made her smile.

Isonei tried to stifle the yawn that crept up on her and Rogath snorted. "You keep reminding me of Kas. You still need your rest, Lady Isonei. Back to bed with you."

She was going to reply but had to cover her mouth as the yawn wrenched itself out of her. "I would argue but somehow I don't think I'd hear the end of it if I fell asleep at the table."

Burgath and Rogath both chuckled. Rising from the table she smiled warmly at them and placed her hand over her heart to take her leave. To Shoban she gave a cool inclination of her head. The Duke looked almost amused. As she left the room she heard him murmuring something in Torgan to the Princes.

Krouth was waiting patiently outside of the dining room for her as she emerged, and he led her back up to her room after a speculative glance. Alone for a moment, he gestured at her to lie on the freshly made bed and took a seat on one of the chairs by the small table. "You handle them well, Lady Isonei. And I find it gratifying that you defend Prince Draeseth's religiousness even when you do not share it."

"I was raised to be respectful of the beliefs of others."

The slim Torgan smiled faintly, "The Lerians are godless, what other beliefs have you encountered, my Lady?"

"They aren't!" Isonei smiled and sat up, "The Dagas are regarded as, uhhmm, I think the way my father explained it is they're regarded as God-rulers. But they aren't worshipped, they're served. And the Sons of Mun-"

He held up his hand with a disdainful frown, "Your father gave you over to demons who would call themselves gods, and allowed you to associate with Sons of Mun?"

"The Dagas aren't demons. And I was not given over; I chose to allow Daga Liadith to make me a member of his family." She gave him a stern look. "My father was very clear that we are Aran and we have our own beliefs. My respectfulness does not mean I am less firm in them." Laying back down she asked peevishly, "And what's wrong with the Sons of Mun? My father wasn't fond of them either but they seemed charming to me."

"As I heard their religion," he sneered the word, "explained, they overthrew their god and replaced him. And you are easily charmed my Lady."

"I always liked that story, and he wasn't a very good god. He kept their souls in creels." Isonei yawned feeling her eyes drift closed. "Mun was an improvement, but Tyhnoth is much better." She was too tired to do anything but ignore the last part.

Jerking partly awake as she heard someone speaking nearby, she felt a blanket being pulled over her. "Shh Lady, sleep." Curling into a more comfortable position the quiet conversation resumed and lulled her back to sleep.