“Fine, then. Here’s a less touchy topic: What do you think?” Rafferty began. “Will Lox and Lain’s wee bairns be dark like him, or will they come out freckle-faced and red as a tomato?”
Thom scowled dramatically. “I don’t want to think about that.”
Evylin propped her arms on the table, intrigued by the idea. “Actually, I know this answer. My eldest sister, Euna, looks most like my father, with a lighter complexion and bright green eyes. Even her hair is more of a golden brown than dark, like mine or the rest of my sisters. But her husband, Druan, is dark-skinned with black hair and deep brown eyes. They had four daughters, and Euna was with child before he was drafted; all their girls look far more like Druan with brown complexions and dark hair, despite Euna’s fairness. My mother said that’s because the darker colorings are the dominant trait,” she said, then gestured to Vayden and Isla. “Think of Reyana. She’s paler than Isla, but otherwise, she more closely resembles her mother.”
“I am Schonese,” Isla reminded. “Our features are more pronounced. However, it is unlikely that Ilain would have redheaded children due to the strength of Ethenn’s complexion and coloring.”
Evylin lifted her brows in Rafferty’s direction to prove her point, and he rolled his eyes.
Deckard appreciated the weasel guiding the lighthearted conversation, letting it wind into silly debates about genealogy and questions about Isla’s heritage and family in Schon. It allowed him to process his weighty thoughts while his comrades were distracted. Even when Rafferty made a point of teasing that Deckard’s own children were bound to come out ruddy and paler than snow, he stuck to his wandering thoughts. He had too many things to figure out and too many responsibilities to ponder to engage in casual banter. And that ominous murmur of Space still thrummed in his ears, making every thought harder to control.
Let me out.
When they finished their meal, Vayden and Isla departed. Deckard rose as well, telling Thom to join Evylin and meet himback at their room in half an hour. Then they could talk with Hewitt. “I have to take care of something first,” he said, excusing himself.
Though Evylin’s gaze questioned him, she let him go, remaining at the table with Rafferty and Thom.
Climbing the rickety staircase and striding down the dimly lit halls, Deckard wound his way to the back of the second floor. He scanned the wooden doors, noting the numbered plaques hanging from each doorknob. When he reached room thirteen, he knocked.
The door opened a fraction before it swung wide. “I wondered when you’d come to see me,” Brea said by way of greeting. She gestured for Deckard to enter, then shut the door behind him.
“You expected me?” he asked.
Taking a seat on one of the two single beds in the room, Brea crossed her arms. “I have no designs on your brother,” she said flatly. “You need not worry.”
A small smile lifted the corner of Deckard’s lips. “You’re rather blunt.”
“I see no reason to mince words. It would be a waste of both our time.”
Brea’s dark gaze held his with a forthrightness, and he had to admit she was beautiful in an intimidating way. In addition, she had a confidence that few other women carried. Deckard could understand the appeal, though he couldn’t help but notice the underlying hardness in the woman’s bearing.
Deckard leaned against the footboard of the bed opposite Brea. “That’s not why I’m here,” he said.
A cynical smirk filled her expression. “No,” she agreed. “You’re here to do your duty as a commanding officer.”
“I thought you’d understand.”
“I’m a soldier, Colonel. I recognize a censure when I receive one.”
Deckard cocked his head. “This isn’t a censure,” he said. “I merely wish to understand your side of the events in the Keep.”
Brea lifted her chin, taking a slow inhale. “It’s rather straightforward,” she said. “I saw Captain Deckard fall with a mortal injury, and I did what any fellow soldier would: I went to his aid. I pulled him from danger as best I could, but he was worse off than anticipated. In defending him, I was forced to leave my other comrade unaided. Auden died because I was unable to be in two places at once. An unavoidable fault, not an intentional abandonment.”
Deckard nodded. “As I thought.”
“Ilain does not see it that way,” Brea continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “She will not accept it. No matter what I say, she will take this as an affront to her and her family. In her eyes, I betrayed Auden.”
“She’s grieving,” Deckard said. “The wound is fresh, but Ilain is not unreasonable. She will come to understand the truth in time.”
Her smile grew hard. “No, she won’t,” she said with surety. “But that’s just fine. Ilain and I don’t have to get along. We just have to work together. And you can trust that I will do my job, Colonel, no matter the personal conflicts I face.”
Deckard believed her. Though he disagreed—he did think Ilain would come to see reason—he accepted that Brea would follow through with her job on this mission to the fullest extent of her ability.
However, there was one matter yet unresolved.
“Why are you avoiding Thom?” he asked.
Brea didn’t so much as flinch. “Because it’s better this way.”
