Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
The servant went to work quickly, unloading the gold-domed plates along with some eating utensils and napkins. He even left a covered basket, which he told Imani was a selection of tropical fruits—“On the house, of course, because you ordered so many fine dishes. The kitchen wanted to send its respects and gratitude.” He was about to leave when he looked at J’are one more time and snapped his fingers.
“Oh, I almost forgot, My Lady! Here are the clothes you ordered. If they don’t fit, you can call for a different size.”
From under the cloth covering the floating cart, he drew out several silk-wrapped packages and stacked them in one of the chairs.
“Thank you so much.” Imani smiled at him. “Um, I’m not sure how tipping works here—I’ve never been to this planet before. Do I add a gratuity to my cred chip for you?”
“No gratuity needed, My Lady,” the servant said quickly. “Just happy to be of service.” And he left as fast as he could, still eyeing J’are on his way out.
“I think you made him nervous,” Imani said to the big Kindred, who was still glaring at the shut door. “And I can’t say that I blame him. Well—let’s see if any of these clothes work for you.”
She opened some of the silk-wrapped packages and found a pair of dark blue silky sleep trousers, a pair of leather trousers with the crotch cut out, another pair which mercifully had the crotch intact, and several pairs of skimpy Speedo-looking underpants in various colors. There were no shirts—apparently bodyslaves didn’t get to wear them. There was, however, a pair of calf-height, black boots which looked like they might fit the big Kindred.
“Here—put these on,” she told J’are, handing him the dark blue sleep trousers, which had fancy golden curlicue designs printed all over them. He pulled them on without comment and was finally covered. Which made it much easier to look at him without remembering what she had just done while she was bathing him, Imani thought, feeling her cheeks get hot. Honestly, what had gotten into her?
Well, whatever it was, it wasn’t going to happen again, she promised herself firmly. And she wasn’t going to think about it anymore. Right now it was time to eat and she was really hungry.
“Come on,” she said to J’are as he finished adjusting the trousers. They hung low on his narrow hips and emphasized the broadness of his bare chest. “Let’s eat.”
Fourteen
Imani wasn’t sure what to expect when she took the golden dome off the first plate but it certainly wasn’t a squirming mass of live, dark blue and purple worms.
“Ugh!” she exclaimed and banged the lid back down hastily. “How awful! Is that normal Yonnite food?” she asked, looking up at J’are.
He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling, which seemed to make the thick black markings on his arms and chest ripple.
“Is skriglers.”
“Skriglers?” Imani shuddered. “Well, I don’t want any of those, that’s for sure!”
Hoping the other food wouldn’t still be alive, she pulled the dome off a second plate. A rush of savory-smelling steam emerged, blocking her sight but making her mouth water.
“Oh, this is more like it!” Imani exclaimed. “This smells absolutely…uh…”
The words died in her throat when the steam cleared and she saw what was on the large plate.
It appeared to be the head of some kind of creature—it looked a little like a wild pig or boar. But along with its long, wrinkled snout and ugly tusks, it also had a single spiral horn right in the middle of its forehead.
Ugh—it’s a pigacorn! Or maybe a hogacorn, Imani thought, feeling slightly ill. The long snout gaped open with a blackened fruit jammed between its jaws. The eyes were still intact—they gazed at her with mute reproach as she looked down at the decapitated head.
“That’s even worse!” Imani exclaimed, slamming the second lid back down. “Didn’t I order anything edible?”
As it turned out, she hadn’t.
Every single one of the dishes was disturbing either to look at or to smell. At one point Imani thought she’d found a bowl of granola she could eat, only to look closer and find it was a mass of tiny insects about the size of ladybugs with spotted yellow and brown shells that were slowly crawling all over each other.
Then there was the thick cut of meat which looked a little like a steak but was bright green. Imani didn’t love the color, but she was willing to try a bite—until she leaned closer and smelled it. The reek of rotten meat mixed with dirty socks met her nose, making her jerk her head back sharply and mutter, “Nope. No way. Uh-uh!”
There was also what appeared to be a cheese tray, with many different kinds of cheeses, all shaped into neat wedges. But when she went to use the small, ornamental knife that came with the tray to cut off a promising looking wedge, the “cheese” she was cutting emitted a high-pitched shriek and writhed away, leaving a trail of bright red slime that looked suspiciously like blood.