Selma Belat sat at one end, eating with relaxed elegance. She wore a simple white dress that somehow made her look more formidable rather than less. Her copper hair was loose around her shoulders, and her eyes were focused on a newspaper spread beside her plate.
She looked up as Jolthar entered and smiled, a genuine expression that transformed her face from beautiful to warm.
"Ah, the victor awakens.
Please, sit and have some food.
You need to rebuild your strength." She gestured to a chair near her.
Jolthar moved to the indicated seat, noting the spread of food, fresh fruits, bread that was still warm, cheese, cold meats, and several dishes he didn't immediately recognize. He served himself, suddenly aware of how hungry he was.
"How long was I unconscious?" he asked.
"About fourteen hours," Selma replied, taking a sip of what appeared to be herbal tea.
"My healers worked on you through the night. Your injuries were extensive; that young man and deity didn't hold back."
