Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [13]
“I’m sorry, Richard. Perhaps you would rather be alone.”
He forced himself to smile. “No, it’s all right. I’ve been alone enough. It helps to have someone to talk to.”
She gave him a small smile and a nod, and they moved on through the crowd. Richard wondered where Michael was. It seemed odd that he wasn’t out yet.
Even though he had lost his appetite, he knew Kahlan hadn’t eaten in two days. With all the tempting food around, he decided she must have remarkable self-control. The delicious smells were starting to change his mind about his appetite.
He leaned closer to her. “Hungry?”
“Very.”
He guided her over to a long table with food piled in tiers. There were large steaming platters of sausages and meats, boiled potatoes, dried fish of several kinds, grilled fish, chicken, turkey, mounds of raw vegetables sliced into strips, big tureens of cabbage and sausage soup, onion soup, and spice soup, platters of breads, cheeses, fruits, pies, and cakes, and casks of wine and ale. Servants were constantly coming and going to keep the platters full.
Kahlan scrutinized them. “Some of the serving girls have long hair. That is allowed?”
Richard looked around, a little bewildered. “Yes. Anyone can have any kind of hair they want. Look.” He held his arm close to his chest and pointed as he leaned toward her. “Those women over there are councilors, some have short hair, some have long. Whatever they want.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Do people tell you to cut your hair?”
She lifted an eyebrow to him. “No. No one has ever asked me to cut my hair. It is simply that where I come from, the length of a woman’s hair has a certain social significance.”
“Does that mean that you are someone of considerable standing?” He took the edge off the question with a playful smile. “Seeing as how you have such long beautiful hair, I mean.”
She gave him back a small smile, devoid of joy. “Some think so. I could only expect that after this morning, the thought had entered your mind. We all can be only what we are, nothing more, or less.”
“Well, if I ask anything a friend shouldn’t, just kick me.”
Her smile brightened into the same tight-lipped one she had given him before. The smile of sharing. It made him grin.
He turned to the food and found one of his favorites, small ribs with a spice sauce, put a few on a small white plate, and handed it to her.
“Try these first, they’re my most treasured.”
Kahlan held the dish at arm’s length, eyeing it suspiciously. “What creature’s meat is this?”
“It’s pork,” he said, a little surprised. “You know, from a pig. Try it, it’s the best thing here, I promise.”
She relaxed, brought the plate close, and ate the meat. He ate a half dozen himself, savoring every bite.
He put some sausages on their plates. “Here, have some of these, too.”
Her suspicion flared anew. “What are they made of?”
“Pork and beef, some spices, I don’t know what kinds. Why? There some kinds of things you don’t eat?”
“Some kinds,” she said noncommittally before eating a sausage. “May I have some spice soup, please?”
He ladled the soup into a fine white bowl with a gold rim and traded it for her plate. She took the bowl in both hands and tried it.
A smile came to her face. “It’s good, just like I make. I don’t think our two homelands are as different as you fear.”
As she drank the remainder of the soup, Richard, feeling better about what she said, picked up a thick slice of bread, put strips of chicken meat on it, and, when she finished the soup, exchanged the bread for her bowl. She took the bread with chicken and started moving to the side of the room while she ate. He set the soup bowl down and followed behind, shaking an occasional hand. Their owners cast a critical