Page 80 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Chloe

I dressed in a hurry when I saw that Kitan was no longer waiting for me inside the bathroom.

I felt a spike of worry, fearing that someone had already come and taken him from the room.

We hadn’t discussed much last night, but I knew for a fact that it was very possible I’d be locked in this room every time they took him somewhere.

I didn’t want that. I wanted to be there for him and support him during whatever it was that he feared so much here.

I barely took a moment to run a brush through my hair and cleanse my teeth, but once I stepped out into the room, I was relieved I’d hurried.

He was still there; he hadn’t been taken from me.

He wasn’t alone, though, standing tensely on one side of a laden table while two other Sune stood on the other.

They didn’t speak, just glared at one another—their dislike was extremely obvious.

At my appearance, all eyes turned to me.

I froze under the scrutiny; I hated being the center of any kind of attention and fidgeted with Kitan’s jacket, pulling it more tightly around me.

It seemed to shake Kitan out of his staredown, and he stepped to my side, pulling me under his arm.

“Chloe, meet my parents, Patan Akentral and Fayil Akentral.”

He pointed first at a tall Sune male with a stripe almost identical to the one Kitan had across the bridge of his nose.

His stripe, however, was more silvery than tan in color, and the hair draped around his head—though as wild and curly as Kitan’s—was also silver.

I wasn’t sure if that was from age or a natural trait, given that plenty of Sune had naturally silver coloring, even though they tended to go white or gray as they aged.

His hair was partially swept up into a topknot, a style I’d come to realize was the favored fashion for men here on the planet.

He had an arrogant tilt to his head, and his clothing looked nearly as rich and expensive as the golden robes that one priest had worn yesterday.

The woman, too, was decked out in what was obviously an expensive dress, her throat glittering with gemstones.

Her hair was the same deep red as Kitan’s, and on her bared arms, I saw the same striped markings Kitan had as well.

It made the family resemblance obvious, even if her eyes held only cool contempt.

There was absolutely nothing maternal about this woman.

“And that over there is my brother, Kest,” Kitan murmured, his voice laced with a little less anger and derision.

To my shock, he pointed at a male standing near one of the windows, gazing out with a disinterested posture as he leaned against the windowsill.

The male appeared to be about the same age as Kitan, sharing the same type of markings and coloring.

Unlike his parents, at least he wore something more sensible, even if the fabrics looked expensive.

The dark pants and shirt had a harsh, firm appearance, their severity only softened by a pale blue scrap of silk dangling from a loop at his belt.

At Kitan’s introduction, Kest looked up at us for the first time, his face carefully blank.

“Nice to meet you. You must be Kitan’s mate,” he said in a rich voice with a cultured accent.

The voice was so similar to Kitan’s that I shivered, but the accent was entirely different—it was uncanny and a little off-putting.

I raised my hand and waved. “Nice to meet you. I’m Chloe.

” At my choice of words, I could hear Kitan make a soft snorting sound, like he’d tried to muffle it.

It was not nice to meet these people. I briefly tried to imagine what it would be like to be reunited with my parents.

There’d be tears and laughter, hugs, and maybe some screaming from excitement.

I knew they loved me and had died never knowing what had happened to me.

I couldn’t imagine they’d ever look at me this way—with this kind of anger and contempt.

The father only made a scoffing sound before he gestured at the table.

“Let’s sit down and eat. We came all the way from the capital to see you.

” As if they’d done Kitan a favor by coming, by putting themselves through the hassle of traveling here.

It was obvious that Kitan wanted nothing to do with them at all, but he snapped into his more personable mode anyway, acting as a host.

“Sure, of course, sit down, have a bite,” he told them, his tone of voice filled with welcome.

Gesturing at the feast spread out before us, he added, “There is plenty for all of us. Come, Chloe, sit here, my sweet mate.” He pulled out a chair for me at the head of the table, and I didn’t miss how his dad had made a move to sit in that same chair.

He’d purposely cut off his father from the seat of power at the head of the table, and he’d done it very smoothly.

The older Sune male was not so gracious about it, glaring at Kitan and then at me, but allowing his wife to guide him to a set of seats to my left.

That left two spots on the right for Kitan and his brother, and it was obvious from the way the two eyed each other that neither appreciated the forced proximity.

I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles.

I wanted to have a moment to reflect on the earth-shaking intimacy I’d just shared with Kitan, to think about the fact that he didn’t consider it a ruse for me to be here when they called me his mate.

He wanted me for his mate; he’d always wanted me for his mate.

It was something I couldn’t quite wrap my head around.

I’d always just been a waste of space, barely better than vermin, aboard the Ever Golden.

Old Basra had tolerated my company, and sometimes I thought he cared about me, but he’d never said so.

Instead, this moment felt so fraught with tension that I was sitting here, struggling to keep my attention on everyone, trying to ferret out the undercurrents but feeling like I was missing something extremely crucial.

Why did his parents dislike Kitan so much?

Because he ran away from Sune? Why did even his brother seem to dislike being here? Jealousy?

As we ate, I barely noticed the delicious food.

No one said anything for some time; it was just the clinking of cutlery on plates, the sounds of chewing, and the rustling of clothing.

“Damn it! Why would you shame our family so by running off? You selfish, ungrateful brat!” Kitan’s father, Patan, suddenly exploded.

Startled by the sudden explosion of anger, I dropped my knife with a clatter on the floor at my side.

While Kitan coolly looked his father in the eye, I ducked down to grab the knife and clutched it tightly in my fist, ready to defend if I needed to.

“What are you really angry over, Dad? The fact that I left? Or the fact that me leaving meant you didn’t get paid?

” I’d never heard that tone in Kitan’s voice—so cold.

His father rose from his chair and pressed his fists on the table, leaning in toward Kitan.

He didn’t look intimidated by the posture, though; instead, he sprawled further into his chair as if lounging, completely relaxed.

It looked insolent, and it was clearly meant to—it infuriated Kitan’s father even further.

“We didn’t get paid! We didn’t get invited to important socials anymore! We were an embarrassment! Our peers looked at us with pity. It was real hard on our business!” the man screamed.

I didn’t think the others noticed, but I saw how Kitan’s eyes had gone flinty with anger. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice a lazy drawl, entirely designed to piss off his father more. It looked like Kitan was trying to press all the guy’s buttons.

Patan was about to scream some more, but then Kitan’s mother wrapped her fingers gently around his wrist, and the male settled down.

She didn’t get up, didn’t move from where she sat ramrod straight in her chair, her chin at a regal angle.

“What your father means to say, Kitan, is that by doing something so selfish as to leave, you nearly ruined our family. Don’t you care even a little about what happens to your brothers and sisters? ”

It seemed it was a weak spot for Kitan because he instantly softened a little.

I could see it in his eyes and in the way his shoulders lowered.

“How many is that now, Mom?” he asked before giving his brother a look.

The haughty woman didn’t answer, but Kest shrugged and said in that cultured tone, much like his father, “There are seven sons and five daughters now, Kitan, but Fresarius passed away last winter.”

I saw how Kitan took that news. “My condolences on Fres, then.” He didn’t seem struck with sudden grief at the news—not surprising, as none of his family seemed like they cared for him much.

“So that’s seven more siblings since I left.

You kept trying for another, huh?” No one answered that question, which was rhetorical, but I saw how his mother’s lips thinned and her nose went another inch up into the air.

What I did notice was how Kest’s eyes grew cold too, and the look wasn’t so much directed at Kitan as it was at his mother. Huh, maybe Kest had a contentious relationship with them too. It wouldn’t be very surprising if this couple acted as they did with Kitan, with all their children.

“Never mind all that,” Patan huffed, and he plunked himself gracelessly back down in his chair. “What matters is that you are back, and we can finally receive the stipends we are due again.” He shot Kitan a warning look. “Don’t even think about running off again, son.”