“I can’t believe how good this all tastes,” Kimarhi says through a mouthful, melting me with her carefree nature.
So different from the woman who kicked my ass and then made me quiver moments ago. I laugh aloud, and Kimarhi becomes bashful, like she forgot I was here. She kisses my lips but returns to eating with a cup in hand.
“Miss Anya, would you like to ask me anything? I see you staring at me,” I prod without looking away from my Kimarhi. Anya, eyeing me watching Kimarhi, looks away and snickers a smile.
“No sir, just admiring. Our Queen is happy! Make sure she stays that way, or respectfully, you WILL be washing those dishes, my King,” she says, pointing to the sinks full of dirty cookware.
Anya seems to care for Kimarhi like a mother, and I have no doubt in her words and hope
