The Immortal Crown (Age of X #2)(34)
Author: Richelle Mead

No, said Justin. I’d prefer to be inside.

Even in early evening, the temperatures were high, the air hanging stagnant and humid around them. The bus had had nominal air conditioning, but there was nothing to protect them now from the heat as they stood in the dusty yard. The comfort of indoors seemed to be a ways off, however, as both sides went through formal introductions of their important officials. A number of the Arcadians were familiar to Justin from his briefings, and he mentally linked up these real-life faces to what he’d read in the bios. As they’d expected, none of the Gemman women were given introductions. Of the twelve Arcadian women, three were introduced as Carl’s wives, with another five being the head wives of other officials. That meant the four who weren’t introduced were Carl’s concubines, something Justin found staggering.

He’s got seven women. Should I be jealous? he asked the ravens.

After an assessment of the women, he decided he wasn’t. Carl’s youngest wife and one of the concubines were somewhat attractive, but the others were heavily marked by Cain.

Some of the Arcadians are jealous of your women, noted Horatio.

Justin had noticed that as well. The older officials had given the Gemman women once-overs, some of them clearly quite intrigued. But these men were disciplined enough and focused on the task at hand to do little more than that. The younger men, most of whom were Carl’s sons, were less subtle as they openly stared at Mae and the others. Carl hadn’t introduced any daughters-in-law, which Justin understood was quite common around here. The polygamous practices left a shortage of women, and most men couldn’t afford a wife until their mid-twenties, at least. The country’s religious dictates had strong stances against pre-marital (or pre-concubine) sex, and although Justin wasn’t naïve enough to believe it didn’t happen, it probably didn’t happen nearly as much as it should have.

If ever there was a group of guys who needed to get laid, it’s that one, Justin thought, watching as the young men shifted restlessly in the heat. This is a system ready to explode. The old men horde all the women for themselves. Some of Carl’s wives and concubines are younger than his sons.

The leaders of both groups made more speeches and posturing, and at last, Carl declared that everyone should come in for dinner.

Grinning broadly, he gestured his guests inside and then barked a sharp command to some of his sons.

“Their bags are in that second bus. Take them out to the guest houses.”

None of the sons protested outright, but the expression on their faces suggested this was an unexpected request. Carl flushed at the defiance.

“All the women are busy with supper,” he hissed. “Takes all of them to feed this many.”

“Why can’t their women do it?” asked the youngest of the sons, whom Justin guessed to be around fourteen or fifteen. The oldest looked to be about ten years older, and he lightly cuffed the youngster, aware that they had an audience.

“Come on,” he said, urging the other four on.

They traipsed off, and Justin breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into high-powered air conditioning. The Arcadians, though they had many technological capabilities, had mixed ideas about when that technology should be used, based on their god Nehitimar’s commands.

Justin was grateful climate control met with divine approval.

The estate’s main house had a dining room large enough to hold a table that seated both countries’ officials and Carl’s sons, as well as a smaller table off to the side where the Gemman women were directed to. The Gemman soldiers, they learned, would eat on the back porch.

No mention was made of where the children would go, but presumably they’d get fed too.

“Interesting,” murmured Atticus, pitching his voice so that only Justin and Lucian could hear. They were waiting to be assigned seats at the main table. “For formal events, women and men don’t eat together.

They’ve brought that table in just for us.”

“Is that a good thing?” asked Lucian.

“Possibly. It means they’re showing us a courtesy since they know we do eat together.” Atticus chuckled softly. “It’s deeply unsettling for their women, though.”

He was right. The women’s table was pushed to the far side of the room, with more chairs at it than it could comfortably hold. The women of Carl’s household were too busy to sit yet, but the other Arcadian wives were sitting with the Gemman women and kept casting uncomfortable looks around, both at their tablemates and the men across the room. Justin wondered if it was strange for them to be eating in front of men who weren’t family or if they were more disturbed at being seated with foreigners. Or maybe, judging from how busily Carl’s women were scurrying to get beverages and food to the tables, the other Arcadian women just expected to help.

Justin had no time to ponder the women’s fate, not with plenty to occupy him at his own table. He knew what was expected in situations like these and was as adept socially as Lucian and Atticus. George and Phil were more subdued but always responded appropriately when engaged. The Arcadians had a similar mix of personalities, and between them all, they were able to prevent awkward silences and keep to friendly cross-cultural topics as the women painstakingly brought out dish after dish.

The local cuisine looked fine to Justin, and he was surprised to find how hungry he was after the long day of travel. Mae’s expression was neutral, but she and the other praetorians had to be famished. When Carl’s women finally went and stood behind the chairs at their table, Justin’s fingers itched to reach for his silverware, but he kept a close eye on the other Arcadians first. Their hands stayed in their laps, and conversation went silent as their eyes fell on the one empty seat at Justin’s table. Moments later, a man dressed entirely in gray entered the dining room. He looked to be in his forties, and all hair had been shaved from his head and face. The rest of the Arcadians stood at his entrance, and the Gemmans quickly followed suit.

“This is our local priest, the Venerable Jeremiah. He’s come here especially to meet you and perform our dinner prayers,” explained Carl.

“We’re honored,” said Atticus gravely.

Justin had witnessed many religious services in his time, but this was the first in which he’d ever technically been a willing participant, if one looked at it that way. Even so, he still found himself studying the priest with a servitor’s eye, analyzing every gesture and intonation as the Venerable Jeremiah began a long litany of prayers and thanksgiving.