"Noticed."
"In front of strangers."
"Mm."
"Please."
He wraps it around his waist. Slow.
Behind me, Axan snorts.
Keer turns to face the woman.
"Stay."
Her head comes up.
"What?"
"Stay. Here. With us." His voice is low. Hoarse. But steady. "Get your families. Bring them back. We have room. We'll figure the rest out."
She stares at him.
"You don't know us."
"No."
"You don't owe us anything."
"No."
"Then why."
Keer's hand at the small of my back.
"Because she asked."
He doesn't say Mel. He doesn't gesture. He doesn't have to. The whole clearing already saw the look between us. The whole clearing knows.
The woman's eyes move from him to me.
Then back to him.
Then to the soldiers behind her—her people, the ones who chose forward, the ones whose families are about to be rolled out of citizenship by tomorrow night—and her face does something complicated. The kind of complicated that means a hard math problem just got an answer she didn't expect to get.
"We'll come back," she says. Quiet. "If you'll have us. We'll come back."
"We'll have you."
She nods.
Then she goes back to dividing tasks.
I'm shaking. I didn't notice until now. Keer's hand is still at the small of my back and I'm shaking against him and I can't tell if it's because the army is gone or because of what just happened or because I haven't eaten or because I asked my mate something with my eyes and he answered it in front of allthese people without blinking.
"Melori."
"Don't." I can't look at him. If I look at him I'm going to cry or laugh or collapse and none of those are useful.
