Outwardly, Ellia wore a stoic face. Inwardly, she felt a black pit of emptiness growing inside her, threatening to swallow her heart and her mind when his bitingly true statement reminded her of what she had become. “The point is that we will survive. I have nothing more to say on the matter.”

Ellia heard a tapping beneath the table, and realized that Nikodemus was restlessly tapping his foot on the floor.

Nikodemus closed his eyes bitterly. Eventually, he scooted his chair out away from the table and furiously clambered out of it.

Ellia turned her face, expecting him to leave, but he just stood by his chair for a moment, his fists clenched, his back facing her.

He spun around, slamming his palms on the table next to her plate. Ellia regarded him with a raised eyebrow, but didn’t even flinch.

“If you want me to service all your women like all the other tribal leaders have done in the past, be my guest. But if you want a real relationship with me, give me something to do. I don’t care how small it is. Not only that, but don’t share me around like I’m a tool. If you continue to do so, we won’t have a good night together ever again. If you want it to just be sex and no affection, be my fucking guest. You’ll realized how bitter it feels later.” Nikodemus whispered furiously.

Ellia’s expression didn’t change at all. She had heard much worse from her own soldiers during her lifetime. As Nikodemus walked away, Ellia called to him, “You’re with Elizabeth, Raynee, and Jane tonight—Elizabeth’s quarters.”

The women around them all giggled at Ellia’s humiliating announcement. Nikodemus looked ashamed and hung his head. Nikodemus marched away after that, accompanied by Elizabeth and Annie, leaving Ellia alone to finish her meal. She had intended to move over to the table where the Nymphs she didn’t know well were seated, but suddenly, she didn’t have the energy to do so.

Indeed. Suddenly she felt sapped of her appetite and her forehead felt flaming hot. There was a lump in her throat and she was barely keeping herself from crying.

All other noise in the room was suddenly drowned out. She was alone with her pain. With a heavy heart, she stood up, straightened her clothes, and took her plate over to the serving counter. After that, she decided to retire to her quarters for the rest of the night.

Inside of her quarters, Ellia didn’t even bother to undress. She flung herself onto her bed and looked up at the ceiling, her hands folded over her belly.

The room was eerily empty and quiet, and the only thing that was more eerily empty and quiet than her room, was the emptiness inside of her tempered soul.

The pygmy human had roused emotions in her that she hadn’t felt since the death of her boyfriend, John. And feeling those emotions inevitably brought John to mind.

There was a time when the men in her life wanted to keep her from experiencing how dark the world was. That was why her father and John did all the fighting and hunting while she was allowed to stay at the fortress and look after her tribe. She had been as soft and sweet back then--as soft and sweet as the foolish Hilargi was in present day.

That was a time back before she had killed any living creature, much less human creatures. It was a time when she felt completely energized and enchanted by life, and would have been disgusted by herself had she even thought of killing another living creature.

She remembered a bone-chilling incident when an attack dog from another tribe had charged her, leaping at her throat, but John shot the dog while it was in midair, and it made the saddest whimper before it died.

That was her first experience with death, and she had never forgotten the incident. When it first happened, she couldn’t get it out of her mind for a week. Her tribe had had dogs of their own, after all, and Ellia was very fond of them. They were guileless creatures who were loyal to a fault. Ellia had known friends who had become enemies, and enemies who had become friends, but dogs would never be so flippant with their affections or faithfulness.

Dogs are friends for life… Ellia thought to herself.

And her boyfriend had shot one. The beam from the ray gun had plowed through the dog’s shoulder and glided out the dog’s opposite shoulder, leaving a gruesome, bloody image of the poor thing permanently etched into her mind.

Even though she knew her boyfriend had saved her life, she couldn’t stop thinking of him as some kind of murderer, even though she knew it was ridiculous to think of him as such. Every time she had looked her wrinkly-faced bulldog in its silly, panting face, she remembered the shepherd who John killed. That was how much of a foolish, stupid wallflower she had been when she was young.

And yet, at the same time, she mourned that sweet girl who used to shed tears at the death of an enemy dog, and now couldn’t even shed tears at her closest friends dying.

Nikodemus had made her the most emotional she had been in a long time by reminding her that she was, indeed, a woman. He wanted to help her in any way he could—even if it was something as small as helping with the laundry. She was sure that, if he were the size of a normal man, he would be offering to be one of her soldiers and would spend most of his time in battle trying to defend her.

That’s what John did. That was how he died.