"What is it? You're fidgeting." He glares up at me as if I'm bothering him.
I don't know if this is part of the act or if he's just generally cranky at being here. He definitely didn't like the dancing girl that tried to rub on him. I touch the collar at my throat, reminding myself that we're putting on a show for Bist, who is devouring a plate of noodles with terrifying speed. I hesitate, chewing on my lip, and then lean in closer to Straik. "I'm not trying to be a pain. Just…cold. The floor is like ice."
Straik glances down at my feet and then pushes his chair out ever-so-slightly, indicating one of his big thighs. "You can come sit here."
I don't need to be told twice. This will just be part of the act. I eagerly crawl into his lap, perching on one big thigh and sliding my legs over the other. My arms go around his neck and I wiggle a little, getting comfortable. "You're too kind, my lord."
"I know," he grumps. He picks up his eating sticks and pokes at his food, and then holds an oval-shaped pink bite up to me. "Here. You like sweets."
Feeding me, too? He's such a marshmallow. How does he think anyone is going to believe he's some big tough pirate when he cuddles his slavegirl in his lap and feeds her treats? Wary that this is another mushroom-flavored monstrosity, I take a tiny nibble. It tastes like a cross between strawberry jam and chocolate, and melts in my mouth. I make a happy noise and eat the entire thing, licking my lips. "We need to get some of that for the ship."
"Do we?" He watches me, amused. "I'll see what I can do."
"Please," says the bug across the table. "Must you do that in public? Some of us are trying to eat."
Straik ignores him and picks up another one of the pink treats off his plate. He feeds it to me, glancing over at Bist. "Tell me about your business. How have things been lately? How is the new agreement in Thresh-space working out?"
The conversation falls toward business, none of which I follow, so I eat the treats Straik feeds me and watch the restaurant instead. Most of the patrons here look fairly scary and all are wearing weapons, but Straik doesn't seem bothered. Either we're truly safe despite things, or it's all an act. Either way, I feel rather secure in his arms, which is nice. Even when a brutal fight breaks out amongst some orange-skinned monsters, Straik doesn't bat an eye. He just keeps chatting with Bist and picks a few more treats for me, all of which are sickeningly sweet and make me thirsty. I boldly reach for Straik's cup of green beer and take a sip, then sputter at the bitter taste.
His mouth twitches with amusement. "That's not the right sort of drink for a tiny thing like you. Let's get you something better." He reaches over and touches a control on the table, and a moment later, a glass of something sparkling and pale blue is poured.
I taste it…and it's water. I make a face at Straik, but he shakes his head. "We don't know what you can tolerate. Don't want you getting sick." Before I can tell him off, he reaches up and brushes a droplet off my lip, and then I'm not thinking about beer at all.
I'm thinking about being a naughty slave, just because I like getting under his skin.
49
STRAIK
Having Ruth on my lap makes it incredibly difficult to pay attention to anything Bist says. He talks about shipping, and new port regulations, and tax increases, and it's all mundane and I can't pay attention to a bit of it because there's a warm, wriggly human on my thigh making happy noises as she eats sweets.
I usually hate cantinas. Most business dealings (especially the kind I make) happen in them, but it doesn't mean I have to like the atmosphere. They're noisy, and crowded, and worst of all, filled with scantily clad dancers looking to entertain the patrons. The dancers are the worst, because they grab at you, and touch you, and pretend like they're interested, and all the while, their eyes are dead. It turns my stomach.
With Ruth in my arms, though, the dancers stay away. It's the reason I suggested it—that, and her cold feet—and having her here takes away a lot of the irritation I feel. I don't mind when Bist orders another round of drinks or continues to whine about inflation. I don't mind when the dinner goes on for longer than it should. I know this is all a show, that Bist is going to shake me down for more credits now that I've docked, and threaten me if I don't comply. It's why I'm sitting here at this dinner instead of resupplying. I'm wasting time so my men can enjoy themselves. I'm wasting time so they can find out what they can, and we can regroup from there. And for the first time, I don't mind it. Ruth is in my arms, tasting the tidbits I feed her, and her presence makes me…content. She smiles at me between bites and insists that I eat some of them, even though sweets are not my favorite. I ordered them specifically for her, and as long as Bist's price is not too high, I hope we have time to re-stock so I can fill the Darkened Eye with more of the treats for her.