>>6061988“We are not just sought after for our virtues,” she explains further, “but also our abilities as the heart of the house. The husband is the head of the house, and it is our duty to be firmest and strongest heart.”
“I see,” you agree taking a break from the cauliflower and the rest of the vegetables, just to leave a bit of room in your stomach. Next serving will be red meat — she correctly guessed you would be starving for some after your straining battle and your blood loss. “We have a similar structure,” you say, “though we tend to live together in larger groups. My family went back to three or four degrees of separation, all working in the same vineyard… at least, that’s how it used to be.”
Rubida frowns, picking up a couple slices of red meat and putting them on your plate, saving one for herself, which she cuts with her knife and brings to her mouth. After a few moments chewing and nodding to herself, she asks:
“How it used to be?”
“There was an outbreak of arteriosa when I was two years old,” you explain. “I got it but it left me mostly unscathed. We lost many people, though. Our grandparents, almost every cousin…”
Rubida blinks, her hands slowly curling on the table as she tries to wrap her head around what happened. Of course. She has been bathed in the Light of Ansàrra ever since she had been born. Illness and decay -- suffering is almost a foreign concept to her.
She is Maduan.
“Apologies for asking,” she tries, her formal words betraying how uncomfortable the thought is, “but don’t you have healers in the Mar da Candéa? Are the Echorists so lacking that—”
“There was an accident with the Sanguine Saints a few years prior,” you explain. “Some of the most powerful and most influential families in the entire area were affected. Most of the best Sanguine Saints died or were left mangled, unable to express their Echoes.”
Rubida’s frown grows.
“I was not informed of this.”
[cont].
