Page 136 of Reaper Said Mine

“I am working on it.”

The child accepts this and lets her mother drag her away, though the mother is muttering apologies so quickly that the words nearly trip over each other. The mechanics suddenly find their coil wrench fascinating. Movement resumes along the corridor in a wave, but the rumor has already changed shape. It no longer carries only the heat of a stolen kiss. Now it carries my answer.

Ursa turns toward me once the crowd thins. “Well.”

“Yes.”

“That was a choice.”

“Yes.”

“You did not have to answer her.”

“She asked plainly.”

“She is six.”

“Then she has better manners than most ambassadors.”

The air between us tightens with things too large for corridor conversation. Her mouth softens, but her eyes are worried. That worry does not retreat when I step closer.

“You know what they’ll do with that,” she says.

“Yes.”

“Dawson would kill for that footage.”

“Dawson can join the queue of men unwisely interested in dying.”

She huffs a laugh, but it fades quickly. “Gnash.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

The question carries enough of my own old arrogance back at me that I almost smile. “You have been teaching me to respect danger I do not prefer.”

“Then respect this one. I am already a pressure point. Publicly saying you love me does not make me safer.”

“No.”

“It makes you vulnerable too.”

“Yes.”

Her face shifts, pain and wonder crossing it too quickly to hide. “You are very calm about that.”

“I am calm because the alternative is dragging every eavesdropper into the air recycling shaft.”

“That is not calm. That is postponed murder.”

“I accept your technical correction.”

She presses her lips together, fighting something close to a smile, but the bond trembles with her unease. Before I can answer, my wrist comm flashes with Skahar’s seal.

Of course.

I open the channel. “You heard.”