Zakroti peered back over towards the servant again, giving them a light nod and speaking.

"Vashaew gehdzi dzi zoreli a ayl."He said simply and then peered back to Nenra for a moment, shifting a little in place and furrowing his brow. "A plague, you say?"[hider translation] Bring them(two) two cups of water [/hider] 

Zakroti had not heard of such a thing, and part of him was concerned inherently. Surely if there was a plague rampaging through part of Gemmenia, they should not be taking brides from there? They should be quarantining it, by force if necessary. A plague could spread rapidly, and he did not wish to be importing such a thing to the west. Of course, if she was infected she'd almost certainly have shown symptoms by now, given the time gap between her being taken and arriving in his custody but that was besides the point.

The servant swept back over with a clink, handing them each a pewter cup that he had filled with water from one of the flasks of water the group had brought with them. It had grown relatively warm in the sun on their journey, but at least it was certainly clean water.

"Wredzieiz ayl, Pelataceni" The Servant said as he handed it to them with a light formal bow, before stepping away again almost as quickly and handing Zakroti another cup filled nearly to the brim with vakarum. "Wreeiz vakarum, arpen taki. [hider translation] Your(plural, possessive) water, Consorts. Your(singular, possessive), vakarum, noble overlord/master. [/hider] 

Pelatacen. Zakroti dwelt on the word for a moment, thinking about it. He doubted the literal meaning would impress the two Gems two much at all, but from his own perspective he realised and acknowledged how much that... sanitised their situation, he supposed. Pelataceni had entered into a voluntary agreement, one that had been negotiated and settled in advance and was usually temporary as an arrangement. A trade of sorts, the Drakken got to maximise the effectiveness of the unique gift that the drakken possessed to assimilate features from the other species, the Pelataceni received a considerable amount of wealth and support, even social capital...

That was not this... To cut through all the flowery prose, they were not voluntary partners in this arrangement. They were effectively slaves, objects who had been taken as spoils of war - or spoils of peace, as it were. Pelatacen was not a fitting word for this arrangement. There were terms for those women who had been taken by force instead; Lindenchurl. A compound word of linden and churl, breed and slave respectively, which alone betrayed its darker aspect. 

Pelataceni it was then, he supposed. A pleasant lie rather than a brutal truth. That was how politics worked after all, was it not?

"If there's a plague, why exactly where the Drakken taking people from your village anyway?" Zakroti asked with a light note of bewilderment, softly shaking his head as he took a swig of his vakarum. The beverage was not overly strong, which suited him fine. He would have enjoyed it better had it been mixed with the juniper berries or spiked with a light hint of Wildfire Sandtrap sap, but he couldn't complain under the circumstances. The alcohol collection had hardly been top of his list of things to prepare for the long journey across Draka, after all. "I suppose I should not be surprised that they do not know the first thing about governance."

In truth, it was likely that the Drakken in question simply had no idea about such a plague. For all their strengths, the Drakken were hardly masters of mingling with the Gems, and news could travel slowly - slower than Drakken warriors trying to quickly reach their quotas. This system was a complete disaster one very level, this only confirmed that more for him. 

"It doesn't sound boring, it sounds like a simple and fair enough life. I do hear that flora of Gemmenia is particularly beautiful and the few examples I have seen myself have certainly met that trend. The flowing fields must look quite beautiful when they're in bloom, though no doubt you get used to it if you've lived your entire life there. Things hardly seem exotic once you spend long enough around them, after all. I should see if we can't get some more plants imported for the Garden actually, I don't know if they'll grow in the conditions of the west but if they will, plants from Gemmenia may help to add some exotic new displays to the mix. Most of the plants come from the western side of the continent, as you'd expect, and from Drakka and the south east. Nothing particularly from the far east, perhaps that is something to rectify." Zakroti said, musing mostly to himself towards the end. Expanding the Garden at Mu'Jupostat would be something of an expensive investment, so he wouldn't get his hopes up too much, but it would be a prestigious one to be sure. Ever since the interregnum, most families in the west had been spending more on military matters and intrigue than on such cultural icons, and those who were able to spare the wealth to do so thus brought themselves a great deal of social capital. Social capital that might prove crucial; Before long his grandfather would pass on and the grand dream that his family had been working towards would fall to him to fulfil. Was the social capital worth the monetary investment? Perhaps, the reunification of the west would come about as much through diplomacy and hegemony as through pure military force, his Grandfather had explained that much to him. They'd not just frightened their opponents, they'd courted them. But it had cost them dearly, despite the love of the gods...