“I was tired,” Maera said coldly. “The war has a way of draining one’s appetite for festivities.”“Tired? Or simply disinterested?” another Elder chimed in, chuckling. “I’ve heard the kitchen staff placing bets. Some say you have a heart of stone. Others say… well, others say you’re looking for something a bit more ‘sturdy’ than a lady’s silk skirts.”The room erupted into low, masculine chuckles. Maera hated that it was crude, aggressive, and pointed.“Is that so?” Maera asked, her voice dropping to a dangerous, low hiss. She looked the Elder directly in the eye. “I didn't realize the Council of Althara had been reduced to a circle of gossiping washerwomen. I thought we were here to discuss the survival of our people and ruined economy by looking at trading routes, not who I choose to spend my nights with.”“Now, now, Cael, don’t take offense,” Berin said, raising his hands in a mock gesture of peace. “We’re all men here. We just find it curious. A man of your standing, young, powerf
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