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The apology tumbled from my lips even before I checked the time. It was only a little past eight, well before our agreed upon meeting time of ten at night.
“No.” The word almost sounded abrupt on her tongue, and I got the sense that she did not speak Standard very often, although it was taught in schools across the Star. It was a relief that my Twill was rudimentary but sufficient for basic conversation. Perhaps we’d find a middle ground.
She did not say anything more, and I struggled to keep from breathing too deeply. Each breath was laced with her pheromones, and within these tight quarters, it was beginning to make me ache for forbidden things.
“Am I, uh, supposed to…” I touched my fingers to my forehead like I’d seen Anu and Patcha do earlier that day.
“Only if you wish it.”
There was something incredibly rigid about this woman, and it went beyond the way she carried herself. She spoke conscientiously, as though each word was a measured verbal spar, carefully considered before it left her lips.
“What does it mean?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
“It means many things.” She clasped her hands at the base of her back. “A simple greeting, a sign of respect, a note of thanks for protection.”
“Then perhaps I should learn the proper way to do it.”
“The act is calledrahisin Native Twill,” she explained, her voice dipping even lower as she enunciated the word in her own language. “Blessings.”
With a little swoop, she touched her fingers to the middle of her forehead, and I followed suit, mimicking her actions.
“That is correct.”
She nodded once, acknowledging the greeting.
I shifted to look at my backpack near the doorway behind her.
“I haven’t quite set everything up yet,” I admitted. “But you’re welcome to wait while I tidy the space and show you what I collected today.”
“That is not why I am here.”
“It isn’t?” I asked with a measure of surprise.
“My son told me you had a long day of trekking through the bower, so we will forgo your report. You will give me a formal update tomorrow night once you have settled in.”
My heart thudded at the way she said the wordsmy son, so full of pride.
“Nyx was a great help. Thank you for asking him to join us.”
“He was only there to make sure you behaved appropriately in our sacred lands, Lady Zanny.” The reminder was followed by a slight tilt of her head.
“Nevertheless,” I continued, wondering why my chest was tightening like a fist at the way her lips closed over my name. “You’ve raised a wonderful son. I imagine us being good friends over the next month. He’s easy to talk to—maybe it’s because we’re almost the same age.”
“Youarealmost the same age.” She repeated that last fact as though it had never occurred to her before that moment. I thought I saw a frown touch her brows, but it was so fleeting that perhaps I’d imagined it.
I shrugged. “Well, I’m a few years older. Doesn’t matter—what’s age, anyway? Just a number.”
I was beginning to ramble, my palms getting sweaty and my throat feeling tighter than before. Her scent shifted ever so slightly, and although her features gave nothing away, the dull notes that swept across my skin told me she was in a pensive mood now. Thoughtful. Almost introspective.
Regret sliced through me. I never should have brought up my age.
“Um, so, how can I help you, Chief?” I tried to distract both of us from my misstep, rocking back on my heels and shoving my damp palms into the pockets of my cotton jumpsuit.
She nodded once again, acknowledging my question, but that speculative scent remained high in the air.
Her hands unclasped from their stern position at the base of her back, and she dipped into the folds of her silky greenkifizu,extracting a small leather drawstring pouch.
“This is for you.”
