Venan’s reaction to my question seemed to be inarguable reluctance, and, though I desperately wanted to know the answer, I also didn’t want to offend him. When he didn’t respond right away, I considered apologizing and telling him to never mind my curiosity. To my relief, he spoke before I had a chance to.

“She is my sister,” he said monotonously. “My younger sister.”

I blinked, surprised. I hadn’t expected that. He had been so angry to see her that I’d only assumed she was an ex or an enemy of sorts, not a family member. Plus, after seeing her skulking around the reception tent during the ceremony, it didn’t seem likely she could’ve been a sibling or something equally as close in relation. Usually, sisters were invited to things like weddings. They didn’t have to lurk in the back.

“You didn’t want her there?” I blurted, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“No,” he told me. “More importantly, Zuran did not want her there, and it was his day to make such decisions.”

“You don’t get along?” I knew I was being nosy, but I couldn’t help myself. For whatever reason, everything I’d witnessed about the A’li-uud since arriving on Albaterra had given me the impression that they were a united race. The species as a whole seemed to support each other, citizens of the kingdoms seemed to hold neighborly affection for one another, and families seemed so closely-knit they were practically impenetrable. It was hard to imagine things like feuds between two A’li-uud at all, let alone between kin.

He almost smiled, the corners of his slanted eyes crinkling slightly, but it was a humorless smile. “No,” he said again. “She has been exiled from the family for many, many years.”

The unannounced arrival of our food cut my interrogation short, saving him from what would have been probably another twenty questions. I was fascinated, not because I hadn’t met anyone who held ill will toward a sibling before but because this added an entirely unprecedented layer to my perception of the A’li-uud. Strangely, the imperfection humanized them, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing but definitely a relatable one. So often, I’d felt inferior to the blue aliens. They were physically more capable than anybody in the colony, they seemed to absorb and retain knowledge like computers, and they were all ethereally beautiful in their own right. To now know they endured some of the same pains and possessed some of the same flaws as my own imperfect race was, frankly, relieving.

I still felt like a pauper Cinderella in a handsome prince’s castle, though.

The meal placed in front of me looked divine but completely unfamiliar. I was able to identify the beige teardrop-shaped slab as an unknown meat, beneath which was a spread of citrus-scented greens. A pool of cream sprinkled with pumpkin-colored dustings surrounded the meat and veg, and a purplish garnish of something like cabbage topped the stack. The aroma swirling in the steam that rose from the dish was unlike anything I’d ever smelled before: sweet and savory and tangy and rich all at once. My mouth started watering immediately, but I didn’t reach for my utensils as I was unsure what the A’li-uud considered respectable dinner etiquette.

“I hope you enjoy the meal,” Venan said gently once the warriors who’d served us disappeared from the room. He was looking at me with a hint of concern as if he wasn’t sure I ate A’li-uud fare.

“It smells great,” I told him enthusiastically. I was glad to change the subject, as discussing his sister seemed like an unpleasant topic for him. Of course, I was still dying to know more, but I figured I’d exhausted my freedom to ask by now and probably shouldn’t press my luck any further. Besides, I wanted the dinner with him to be a good one. I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head for three days, and, now that he was in front of me, I wanted to make a good impression on him. Then again, I already had to some extent, or he wouldn’t have asked me to have a meal with him.

He lifted his fork—which was actually less like a fork and more like a miniature version of those pronged sticks for marshmallow roasts—and I mimicked him. To my surprise, the moment the tines plunged into the protein, the grain of the meat separated into a neat little bite, no knife required. I raised my eyebrows, stunned. When I’d first arrived on Albaterra, I’d eaten the food brought from Earth on the journey for several weeks and slowly introduced A’li-uud cuisine into my diet at the advising of the colonists who’d already been here for a long time. Now, the only food available was A’li-uud food, so I wasn’t unfamiliar with their unusual meats and fruits and vegetables and even dairy-like products, but this was a completely different experience. Upon meeting my tongue, the forkful practically melted into a soft, blissful flavor so intense I had to close my eyes for a second.

“Wow,” I breathed after swallowing.

Venan looked at me, lifting a brow slightly. “Is it to your liking?” he questioned. The hand not holding his fork rose from the tabletop as if he were prepared to snap for a staff member to change my dish if I requested it.

“God, yes,” I exclaimed. I sounded more like I’d just had a mind-blowing sexual experience than a delicious bite, but I couldn’t help it. Nothing I’d ever tasted before, not even the A’li-uud food I’d had since coming here was even slightly comparable. “It’s…wow. It’s amazing. Really. What is it?”

“Fennyk,” he answered, the corners of his eyes again crinkling. This time, the almost-smile was one of delight at my satisfaction. “It is a creature native to Maquaria.”

I’d heard about Maquaria a time or two, but I knew very little about it other than it being the only underwater kingdom on Albaterra. “So, it’s a fish?” I asked.

“No, it is primarily a land creature,” he corrected. “Though, when it is not basking on the beaches, it can be found frolicking in the shallowest parts of the ocean. That is why the meat is so tender; a fennyk spends its life either soaking or sunning, living in pure luxury and comfort rather than constantly foraging for meals or trying to escape predators.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never had this,” I went on with an awed shake of my head. The waves I’d styled my hair almost brushed my plate, but I flipped my locks over my shoulders quickly before they had a chance. “How do you eat anything but this all the time?”

“The fennyk population is relatively small. As I said, they live solely to lie on land and swim in waters. Reproduction is infrequent. Because of this, it is illegal to capture more than ten fennyk per solar year, and those unlucky few who are caught are sold at exorbitant prices, as I am sure you can imagine.”

I glimpsed the meal on my plate with newfound reverence. Not only was I essentially eating ambrosia, but I was also eating expensive ambrosia that, if I could take anything from Venan’s inflections, likely cost more than my entire salon and everything in it. I didn’t pay a thing for the salon, obviously, but as a point of reference, it was a breathtaking realization.

“Well, it’s wonderful,” I told him genuinely.

I was pleased the conversation had taken a much more pleasant turn. The awkward tension that had arisen when I’d broached the subject of his sister seemed to have vaporized, and I felt utterly comfortable in his presence now. He still seemed like royalty to me, especially in his luxurious silver robes, but I could easily feel the personality beneath the persona. His eyes were still brooding, his mouth still sharply silent, yet he wasn’t a lingering obsession anymore. He was a being with thoughts and feelings and desires and regrets, just like me. Now, it was a matter of figuring him out.