Dagon couldn’t see the contents of his tray. “What is it?” he called.
“Vestuna.”
Oh. No. He didn’t want that to be her first taste of Segonian food. “He’s right. I don’t think you’d care for that.”
Eliana frowned. “Are you sure? It smells really good… like lasagna seasoned with habanero peppers.”
Maarev shrugged. “You would probably find it too spicy.”
She narrowed her eyes as though he had just insulted her. “Oh, would I?” Or maybe issued a challenge. “May I have a taste?”
Maarev again glanced at Dagon.
Shrugging, he motioned for his friend to indulge her.
Maarev speared a selection from the red-and-green dish and held his utensil out to her.
As she leaned forward and closed her lips around it, drawing the tasty offering into her mouth, Dagon suddenly wished he had said no. Every muscle tensed in protest as something he couldn’t quite believe was jealousy slunk through him. He did not like seeing Eliana eat from another man’s utensil. And he sure as srul didn’t like the way Maarev watched her lips as she chewed.
Fortunately, the expressions flickering across Eliana’s lovely features soon distracted him.
Surprise lit her face as she chewed. Pleasure followed. Then her eyes widened. Tears welled in them as flavor and fire exploded on her tongue. Vestuna was exceedingly spicy. Though he loved it, Earthlings might have a less robust constitution. He shouldn’t have let her try it. Or he should have at least cautioned her to take a smaller bite.
She began to chew faster. And faster.
Maarev’s lips twitched. So did the other men’s.
As soon as she swallowed the fiery mouthful, Eliana grabbed Maarev’s glass and took a hasty drink.
Some of the men chuckled.
At least Maarev was drinking naga juice. The sweet berry soothed some of the burn when one consumed spicy foods.
“Ahhhh,” she breathed in relief as she set the glass down. Then she pointed at the plate and sent Dagon a smile. “I definitely want that. I love spicy food, and that is delicious!”
The men all grinned. Some laughed in delight and raised their glasses to her.
She patted Maarev on the shoulder. “Thank you.”
Smiling, Dagon shook his head while he watched her stroll toward him. Drek, she had an alluring walk. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” he asked as she joined him.
“Yep,” she replied with a grin. “That’s me. I’m just a natural-born enigma.”
He laughed and turned to Kusgan. “A salad and some vestuna for both of us.”
“Yes, Commander.” Kusgan left and returned with two trays. Dagon’s was heaped with warrior-sized portions. Eliana’s boasted maybe half as much, which still seemed more than he thought someone her size could consume.
She hesitated, then reluctantly took the tray.
Dagon studied her. “Eliana? Have you changed your mind? Would you like something else?” Perhaps the continued burn in her mouth drove her to question the wisdom of consuming more.
“Nnnnno.” She glanced up at him, hesitated as though she wanted to say something, then turned back to Kusgan. “No, it’s fine.” She smiled. “It’s good. Thank you.”
When she would’ve turned away, Dagon caught her elbow. Her skin was so soft, he noted absently. “You may speak freely, Eliana.”
Every man waiting in line behind and beside them watched her curiously.
She bit her lip, then looked at Kusgan. “Well…”
Kusgan waited patiently.
“Would it be rude to ask for more?”
Kusgan’s face lit up. “No, ni’má.” Reaching out, he took her tray. “How much would you like?”
She pointed at Dagon’s tray. “That much.”
Dagon grinned. The men around them all laughed.
Most Segonian women were nearly as tall as the men, but even those in the military did not eat such large portions. He could not imagine someone as small as Eliana finishing off that much food but would enjoy watching her try.
“As you wish.” Kusgan left and returned with a tray heaped as high as Dagon’s and a pitcher of naga juice.
Once Eliana took her tray with a bright smile and a “thank you,” Kusgan handed Dagon the pitcher. “To soothe the burn,” he said with a grin.
Dagon took it, lips twitching. “Thank you.” The men around them parted, allowing them passage as they left the counter.
“Could we sit by a window?” she asked. “The scenery is so beautiful. And I’ve really missed being outdoors during the months I’ve been in space.”
“Of course.” He guided her through the tables.
Every man they passed seemed alternately fascinated by her and amused by the amount of food she carried.
Dagon stopped before an empty table next to a holowindow and set his tray and the pitcher upon it. Then he drew out a chair for Eliana and waited for her to sit before taking a seat across from her.
This table and others near the windows were smaller, seating four or five instead of eight. Dagon instantly liked that it allowed him to sit facing her with less table separating them.
Eliana admired the sunset depicted in the window. The light it spilled across them bore the simulated warmth of the sun. Releasing a little sigh of contentment, she looked at Dagon. “This is nice.”
He smiled and filled the glass on her tray with the sweet naga juice. “I’m glad you like it.”
“If that were a real window, I wouldn’t be able to sit here. The sunlight would burn me.” Picking up a utensil, she speared some vegetables.
His movements slowed as he filled his own glass, then set the pitcher down. “You cannot withstand any sun exposure at all?” He recalled fondly the afternoons he had spent on the beaches of Segonia or hiking in the mountains while on leave. It saddened him to think she could not enjoy such simple pleasures.
She sent the tables around them an uneasy glance, then lowered her voice so none would overhear. “I can withstand a few minutes. But if I remain in the light long enough to burn, I’ll need a blood transfusion.” She delivered the vegetables to her mouth and gave them an experimental crunch. “Mmmmm.”
He smiled. “Good?”
Nodding, she swallowed. “The maroon leaves taste like spinach. And the orange and green leaves remind me of lettuce. I used to make salads with both back home.” She ate another mouthful. “The little yellow slices look like carrots but taste like walnuts. And the things that look like tiny cherry tomatoes remind me of raisins. It’s a delicious combination.”
“I’m glad it’s to your liking.” Dagon speared some salad and munched away. “Do you miss Earth?”
She consumed another mouthful. “I miss my brethren. My hunting partners, Nick and Rafe. My Second, Max. Seth, David, and the rest of my makeshift family.” She made no mention of the family into which she had been born. Had they, like so many others on Earth, treated her badly for her differences? “I also miss the outdoors,” she continued. “Moonlight. A cool breeze.” She sent him a wry smile. “I’d say I miss the fresh air, too, but I’ve spent the past several decades living in cities with a lot of pollution, so fresh air was pretty hard to come by.”