Falling In Love With The King Of Beasts Chapter 120: The Way to a Man’s Heart

ELIA

Elia sat at the end table, Gahrye on one side with Aymora beyond him, Candace on Elia’s other side. There had been some stares when Gahrye first joined them, but now everyone seemed to have relaxed. It gave Elia hope that over time they would stop being worried about it.

Now if only Reth would show up…

Elia turned back to the others who were all frowning at their plates, trying desperately to help her find a way to connect with the people that was true to herself, but also appealed to them.

She sighed again and picked at her meal. “I need to find a way to do both,” she insisted again. “I need to be myself, to show myself, but also make the people feel welcome with me and… we need to bond!”

Candace’s eyes widened. “I suspect your use of the word bond there is different than ours,” she said.

Aymora nodded. “I think she means to make friends.”

“Yes, I do,” Elia groaned. “Why, what does it mean here?”

Gahrye grinned. “It means what we all heard Reth roaring this afternoon.”

Elia’s face flamed while the others laughed. “That was… a mistake,” she grumbled, then rushed on before anyone asked her where they’d gone that he could be heard that way. “Don’t distract me: If these ideas won’t work for Anima, tell me what will. How do I befriend the people? Show myself to them, but also give them a chance to show themselves to me. What do they enjoy?”

“Eating,” all three said at the same time.

Elia groaned. “I can’t invite every single Anima over for dinner one by one. I’d be gray and wrinkled before we got to the end of the list.”

“You wouldn’t need to do it one by one, Elia,” Gahrye said quietly. “The people love to gather and eat. Or hear a story. Or dance. If you truly want to capture people’s hearts, give them something to look forward to. An event. A feast!”

“But, we just had a feast.”

Aymora snorted. “That is of no matter. The Anima would feast every day if we could.”

“And didn’t you enjoy the dancing?” Candace said with a sly smile.

Elia grinned. “I’ll admit, I didn’t know Reth could be so… graceful. And the dress you found me was a hit, Candace. I need to find more of those.”

Candace and Aymora both chuckled, but Gahrye looked a little green.

Elia chewed her food and considered the idea. Could she turn some kind of feast, or dance into an opportunity to bond with the people? “Is there any kind of… I don’t know, custom? Anything that involves a person offering themselves to the people or something? There seems to be so many different traditions here—what could I do that would make the people see that I want them to see me, and I want to see them clearly?”

Candace and Gahrye both looked at Aymora. She was, Elia had learned, a Keeper of the Histories. Only a handful of Anima knew the full history of their people and were considered qualified to educate the Rulers and leaders. Aymora was one.

“I wouldn’t say that there is a custom, but we do have a history of storytelling. When a Ruler wishes to inspire the people, they tell a story from the histories that explains what they’re planning, or why they’re warning against something. It isn’t a tradition. There aren’t rules or customs. But the people would understand if you were to… share yourself that way.

“Of course, it’s also used to correct the people too, so you would have to be careful about tone,” Aymora grinned.

“Correct them?”

“Yes. When a Ruler sees that his people are walking the wrong way—there is a problem throughout the Anima, not just within a certain pack or herd—then he will gather the people together and call for correction. A censure, they called it once. It is… a very difficult moment. The Ruler must be very strong to set down all the people at once—it is an opportunity for them to be challenged. But it has happened in the past successfully.”

“I don’t want to censure them!” Elia said hurriedly.

“No, but, much like the Readings that were established by Reth’s grandmother, you could use a gathering to tell your story in a way that will enlighten the people, and help you to understand each other.”

Hope lit in Elia’s heart at last. “That… that sounds perfect.”

“Are you a good storyteller, Elia?” Gahrye said around a mouthful of food. “The people can be… quite hard on poor speakers.”

Candace choked on her food and Elia stared. “What?” Gahrye was grinning.

“We had an incident a couple of years ago,” Candace explained. “I think he was drunk, but one of the elders got up at a Reading. And he was… terrible.”

Even Aymora fought a smile at the memory.

“To this day I hear some of the men tease him about it.”

“What was so bad about it?” Elia asked.

“He was just… boring,” Candace said, gesturing with her fork. “When the people gather it is an occasion—even the children come. They look forward to it for weeks. If someone stands up and is nervous or flat… everyone is let down.”

“No pressure,” Elia muttered.

Gahrye snorted. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble keeping the people’s attention,” he said. “They’re fascinated with you.”

“What? They all think I’m a weak, pathetic excuse for a human being.”

“No, they think you’re a very prime example of a human being,” Candace shot back. Both Aymora and Gahrye laughed.

Elia glowered at her. “The whole point of this is to help the people see me—see humans—in a different light. Help them see the strengths that I have, even if they might be different to what they’d expect.”

Aymore nodded thoughtfully. “We will need to think very carefully about how to present your story. It will need to be… understandable by the people.”

Elia took a deep breath. “So, this is a good idea, right? A feast, with a storytelling.”

“And a dance! We could dance after.”

“That’s not a feast, that’s a festival,” Gahrye said. “Especially if you plan ahead and let the Merchants sell goods for it.”

They all looked at each other. Candace’s eyes lit up. “The Festival of… of…?”

“The Queen?” Gahrye offered.

Elia shook her head. “No, not about me. About the theme. What are we trying to do?”

“The Festival of Hearts,” Aymora said quietly.

Elia turned to her, beaming. “Yes! Will the people understand that?”

“We’ll make sure they do.”

As the other three discussed the messages that could be sent, the ways the people could be enticed to excitement for the festival, Elia smiled at her plate. She felt like she was finally going to find her feet. She knew there was a long way to go, but at least she had a plan now. A focus. And she had found herself again.

She took a deep breath as her mind turned back to the time on the mountainside with Reth that afternoon and she shivered. Not just because of the sex. But because of the love he’d shown—the way he’d known what she would need and had—

A touch on her arm distracted her. She turned to find Gahrye leaning in. “This could really work, Elia,” he said, smiling. “If we bring it to them correctly, it could really be a bridge between you and the people.”

Elia beamed at him. “Thank you, Gahrye—and thank you for always being willing to help me, even when I’m ignorant, or—”

A guttural snarl tore through the market, from behind them.

Elia gasped and whirled to find Reth standing, his eyes alight with a fierce fire, and fixed on the point where Gahrye touched her arm.

“Reth! No!”

But it was too late, Reth launched himself at Gahrye.