Hermi glanced at the glistening meat, then at her husband's expectant expression. If she rejected his unconventional display of feeding her, she would inevitably damage his kingly image in front of his men.
For an ego as enormous as Cassian's, such a public blow would be lethal. Yet, her options for accepting the morsel were equally fraught.
Taking the meat with her riding gloves on was out of the question. She had no desire to crawl into her bedroll later smelling of venison juice and grease. However, removing the leather would reveal her wounded palms to the entire detachment. It was a surrender of her own pride that she was not yet ready to make at all.
With a heartbeat of hesitation, Hermi mirrored her husband's poise. She tilted her head, taking the morsel between her teeth and sliding it from the lethal metal tip. She brought a hand up to cover her lips, acutely mindful of the fifty-two men watching her every jaw movement.
"Not bad," she said after a moment, chewing slowly.
