"Go."
The young guard swallowed hard, saluted, and marched out of the room.She stared at the doorway, her stomach churning.
"Was that necessary?"she asked, her voice trembling."He was just being nice."
Thyaar turned his head slowly to look at her.His eyes were hard and cold."He forgot his place, Your Grace.A guard who forgets his place is a danger to himself and his charge."
She flinched, just the tiniest movement, but she knew he’d seen it.
The door chimed again, and Thyaar reached out to trigger the panel.The door swept aside, revealing Raaevik standing in the corridor.
Her breath caught.His leathers were polished to a dull gleam, his braids neat and tight against his scalp.He filled the doorway, massive and terrifying and so achingly familiar that her hands actually twitched with the urge to reach for him.
He stepped inside.
Thyaar moved to block him.Not aggressively, but purposefully.They stood chest to chest, two massive warriors in a silent standoff.Then Thyaar leaned in.He said something, his voice a low rumble that didn't carry across the room.Raaevik's jaw tightened, and a muscle jumped in his cheek.
Pulling back to look at Thyaar, his violet eyes blazed with something dark and dangerous.Then he shook his head.Thyaar held his gaze for a long second, then stepped back, his expression grim as he looked past Raaevik to her.The door hissed shut behind him.
Raaevik didn't move.He stood by the door, staring at the far wall.
"Sub-Commander," the lead attendant said, not bothering to look up."If you could step aside?We need the light from that panel."
Stalking toward the corner, Raaevik took up a position there and faded into the background as if he were part of the furniture.
She turned back to the viewport.She couldn't look at him.If she looked at him, she would cry, and if she cried, she wouldn't stop.So instead, she stared at the stars wheeling past outside.Cold and distant.
"Arm out, please," the attendant said.
She extended her arm and let them measure her.Let them drape fabrics over her shoulder.She stood there and let them turn her into an object.It took an hour, maybe two.Time blurred into nothing when all she could think about was Raaevik standing like a statue in the corner of the room.
Finally, the lead attendant packed away his dataflex and motioned to the others."We have what we need.The crimson silk will be prepared.The cuffs will be cast tomorrow."
"Thank you," she said.She didn't know where the voice came from.It didn’t sound like hers.Polite.Regal.Dead inside.
They filed out.One by one, the gray tunics disappeared into the corridor.They walked past Raaevik without acknowledging him, and then the door slid shut.Silence descended, heavy and suffocating.
"Emily."
His voice was rough, scraping against her nerves.She kept her eyes on the viewport, on the stars twinkling against the darkness.
"You won't look at me," he said.It wasn't a question.
"I'm tired, Raaevik."
"Is that what it is?"His steps were heavy on the floor as he approached."Because last night?—"
"Last night was a mistake."
The words tasted bitter, but she forced them out, pushing them through a throat that felt like it was closing.
His steps stopped.
"A mistake," he repeated.
His voice was flat.No emotion.Just dead calm.
"Yes."
