He thinks they deserve better, even after losing the civil war (and he certainly wasn’t part of the group that started all this mess), but he knows when he’s been beat. So he keeps his head down and goes to see the girls dancing, because the victors said it will be okay to do so. Even though they weren’t friends and wouldn’t be for quite a long time, there’s something that means more than just being related by a long-ago blood tie, and he’s glad for that now.
Small mercies, and so he watches bodies sway in the festival breeze and picks a girl for himself so his family can stay alive.
It’s a small mercy and favour, which makes it easier to ignore all the kicking and screaming that follow, because as long as he can think of it as a gift, then he wouldn’t have to think about the moral consequences of what he’s being permitted to do.
There are no guarantees in this life except for death, so he might as well take as much as he can get before his mind can catch up to his body to show him the way to hell.