“I see.” Elli tried to smile. “Well, it looks really…special,” she offered at last—which wasn’t exactly a lie.
“You’re lucky to taste it,” the Duke informed her. “We don’t have it often—it’s a delicacy.”
“I can tell that it is. Mmmm…” Elli pretended to take a bite of the “soup” which was literally pond scum and smiled widely. Then she looked at Roke. “Try some—it’s delicious.”
“I’m sure,” he growled but pretended to try a bite anyway.
“I hope they’re going to give us something besides this to eat or we’re going to starve to death,” Elli murmured to him.
“Don’t worry—I’m sure we can get a servant to bring us something from the kitchens after we get back to our chamber. We—” Roke broke off talking and looked around the room with a frown. “What in the Seven Hells?” he muttered.
Elli looked around as well and saw that all of the nobles had stopped eating their slime soup and were now engaged in passionate kissing with their partners.
“Huh?” she muttered. “Why—” Then she saw the reason everyone had interrupted the soup course to kiss—up on the raised dais in the center of the room, the Crown Prince and his “Bride of the Night” were passionately making out as though they couldn’t get enough of each other.
“What’s wrong with you two?” the Duke hissed from the corner of his mouth as the Duchess kissed him.
“Yes, why aren’t you Mirroring His Majesty?” the Duchess whispered, in between kisses. “You won’t keep your high status long if you don’t Mirror properly!”
“What about it, little priestess?” Roke murmured, looking down at her. “Should we ‘Mirror’ the Prince?”
“Oh, um…” Elli felt her cheeks getting hot but she realized that they really had no choice. “I…I guess we should,” she whispered, twisting around so that she was facing the big warrior. “I just don’t know—”
But Roke cut her off with a kiss.
Elli knew she ought to protest or try not to kiss him back, but as before during their Formal Introduction, she was immediately lost. She pressed herself eagerly against the big warrior’s chest and threaded her fingers through his wild black hair to draw him even closer. He still tasted spicy and hot and his scent—a dark, smoky spice that reminded her of a night in the forest—rose around her, making her want him even more.
His scent, she thought distractedly. Is it his Bonding Scent? Do Havocs have Bonding Scents? But even if they did, why would Roke’s body make his special scent—meant to lure a female into bonding—for her? It made no sense considering that the big warrior had stated several times that he identified with the Havoc side of his heritage and he didn’t intend to bond with anyone…
“Stop! You two have to stop now!” she heard the Duchess hissing at them.
Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Elli turned to see that the Duke and his wife were back in their original position with the Duchess sitting between his legs—as was everyone else in the room.
“When the Crown Prince stops his amorous activities, you must as well,” the Duke lectured in a low voice. “That is the meaning of Mirroring.”
“Oh, uh, sorry,” Elli mumbled, feeling embarrassed. “I…I didn’t realize his Majesty had stopped.”
“That is why one of you must always keep an eye on the Royal Dais no matter what is going on,” the Duke told her. “Be careful—I’ve seen more than one couple tossed out of Supper for incorrect Mirroring.”
“We’ll watch it from now on,” Roke growled. “Come on, sweetheart—sit back against me.”
He pulled Elli back into position but she gave a little yelp when she felt something hot and hard pressing against the small of her back.
“Sorry,” Roke muttered in her ear. “Can’t help it. Now settle down,” he added, and pulled Elli back against him when she tried to sit up.
“But won’t I, er, hurt you?” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. “I mean, uh, leaning against it like this?”
The big warrior gave her an amused look.
“You really are innocent, aren’t you? No, little priestess, you won’t hurt me. Just relax and we’ll both be fine.”
Elli tried to do as he said, but the hard ridge of his shaft at her back seemed to throb with heat and she couldn’t help feeling anxious about it—and ashamed of herself for responding so eagerly to the kiss. What was wrong with her, anyway? She wasn’t drugged this time, as she had been at the humans’ Christmas party. So why was she acting like this every time Roke kissed her? She—
“The second course, my Lady,” a servant said as the bowl of slime soup was whisked away to be replaced by a platter of exotic looking fruits.
“Oh—this looks lovely,” Elli said, glad she didn’t have to fake her delight this time.
“These are the fruits of our home world,” the Duchess informed them, smiling. “Try one of the tooka-figs. They’re exquisitely juicy and sweet.” She gestured at the small, plump blue fruit she held in one hand, which she had already taken a dainty nibble out of. The flesh inside was pure white with tiny pink seeds.