The vord Queen turned her eyes to Invidia. “No,” she said. “Why do they eat together?” She turned her eyes back to the little houses. “There exists the possibility that the larger and stronger would take the food of the weaker creatures. Logic dictates that they should eat alone. And yet they do not.”

“There is more to it than simple sustenance.”

The Queen considered the cottage. “Alerans waste time altering their food through various processes. I suppose eating together reduces the inefficiency of that practice.”

“It does make cooking simpler, and it is partly why it is a practice,” Invidia said. “But only in part.”

The Queen frowned more deeply. “Why else eat in such a fashion?”

“To be with one another,” Invidia said. “To spend time together. It’s part of what builds a family.”

Great furies knew that was true. She could count on her fingers the number of meals she had taken with her father and brothers.

“Emotional bonding,” the vord Queen said.

“Yes,” Invidia said. “And... it is pleasant.”

Empty black eyes looked at her. “Why?”

She shrugged. “It gives one a sense of stability,” she said. “A daily ritual. It is reassuring to have that part of the day, to know that it will happen every day.”

“But it will not,” the Queen said. “Even in their natural habitat, it is not a stable circumstance. Children grow and leave homes. Routines are disrupted by events beyond their control. The elderly die. The sick die. They all die.”

“They know that,” Invidia said. She closed her eyes and for an instant thought of her mother, and the too-brief time she had been allowed to share her table, her company, and her love with her only daughter. Then she opened her eyes again and forced herself to look at the nightmare world around her. “But it does not seem that way, when the food is warm and your loved ones are gathered with you.”

The vord Queen looked at her sharply. “Love. Again.”

“I told you. It is the primary emotion that motivates us. Love for others or for oneself.”

“Did you take meals like this?”

“When I was very young,” Invidia said, “and only with my mother. She died of disease.”

“And it was pleasant to have dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Did you love her?”

“As only children can,” Invidia said.

“Did she love you?”

“Oh, yes.”

The vord Queen turned to face Invidia fully. She was silent for two full minutes, and when she finally spoke, the words were spread apart carefully for emphasis—it gave the question a surprisingly hesitant, almost childlike, quality. “What did it feel like?”

Invidia didn’t look at the young woman, the young monster that had already destroyed most of the world. She stared through the nearest set of windows at the dinner being set down at the table.