"I wanted to know who I was mat… err, marrying," he said."Not the genetic profile.The person."He set the dataflex down."You spent your life helping those your society forgot.That speaks to character.It speaks to a strength that has nothing to do with physical power."
She gripped the arms of the chair, her knuckles turning white.This was wrong.He was supposed to be dismissive, treating her like a broodmare.He wasn't supposed to know about the zoning permits or look at her with respect.
"Why does it matter?"she asked, her voice tight."It's not like I have a say in this.The program matched us.That's the whole point, isn't it?"
Daaynal winced.It was a slight movement, a tightening around his eyes… but she saw it.
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees."The Empire needs heirs, Emily.The situation is… fragile.The program selects candidates based on genetic compatibility markers.You were the highest match we have seen."
She huffed."So I'm a lab result."
"You are a necessity," he corrected gently."But that does not mean I wished to drag you from your life.This match…" He looked past her, toward the wall of books."This was not my choice either."
The silence stretched between them.She watched him, saw the lines of strain around his mouth, the shadows under his eyes, and the memory of him in the medical bay slammed back.
This was not my choice either.
He wasn't talking about politics.He was talking abouther.The woman sleeping in the pod.
Her throat tightened.Oh shit, he was trapped too.He was the most powerful man in the galaxy, and he couldn't marry the woman he loved.Instead, he was stuck with… withher.And she didn't even know which fork to use at a formal banquet.Did the lathar even use forks?
"I don't expect love," Daaynal said, bringing his gaze back to her.His voice was soft, devoid of the command she'd heard him use with others."I know I have no right to ask for it.But I would like us to be allies, if nothing else.Partners in this… arrangement."
"Partners," she echoed.It sounded like a foreign word.
"Yes.I do not want a prisoner, Emily.I want a mate who can stand beside me, not cower behind me.Here, I thought you might like this."
Reaching into the pocket of his tunic, he held out a dataflex.
"What is it?"she asked as she took it.
"Media," he said."Books.Music.Films.From Earth.I thought… I thought you might miss home."
She looked down at the device in her palm and her vision blurred.He'd gotten herbooks… because he was worried that she might be homesick.
"Thank you," she whispered.The words felt inadequate somehow.
"You are most welcome."
She looked up at him.The questions burned on her tongue.Who is she?Who is the woman in the medical bay?Does she like books too?
She wanted to ask.She wanted to tell him she knew, that she understood what it was to want something you couldn't have, to feel trapped in a life that didn't fit.But she couldn't.If she asked, then she admitted she'd been snooping—and exposed Raaevik's failure to control her.
She held the dataflex tighter.
"I should go," she said, standing up, before she started crying or confessing anything that would get her in trouble.Spying on the emperor had to be bad, right?
He stood with her."Of course.Rest, Emily.I'm afraid tomorrow will be… busy."
He didn't try to touch her, kiss her hand, or anything.Instead, he just nodded, a respectful incline of his head.
Turning, she walked to the door.It slid open in front of her and Raaevik stepped aside without a glance at her or the Emperor.He fell into step behind her as they walked in silence.
She clutched the dataflex against her chest, mind churning.Daaynal was good.Decent and kind in a way that mattered, in a way that saw her.It should be enough.It should beeverything.
Other warriors moved past them in the corridor—lean, battle-scarred, efficient—but she barely registered them.
She looked at Raaevik as he stepped in front of her.The broad span of his shoulders under the black leather.The way his hair was braided, tight and severe, exposing the vulnerable nape of his neck.
