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“You don’t have to thank me. What I said was true. Almost true, anyway. It is your fault, but my decision is still personal.”
“I didn’t mean to make you even think of resigning from the Imperial Guard. Please promise me you won’t.”
“You know I can’t resign now, Rakkur. Not until I speak to your father in person and until you’re safely delivered to Loros. I can’t make you any promises beyond that.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re being like this.”
“I don’t want to marry you, Rakkur. And if your parents find out about all this, they may insist I do.”
Well, that was plain enough even for me. I can’t say it didn’t hurt though.
“But why? At least tell me that. You bonded with me. Look me in the eyes right here and now and tell me your feelings aren’t involved too.”
And that’s when the son of a bitch looked me dead in the eye and said it.
“I don’t have any feelings for you. I still love my husband. I told you that this is purely biological. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but we’re entirely unsuited to each other. Now please, let that be an end to this.”
And he turned around and walked toward his room, leaving me standing there alone, feeling stunned and heartbroken and foolish.
I called after him, not loudly enough for him to hear it, because he’d already gone inside, but I was mostly talking to myself anyway. “You’re just not brave enough to admit it, even to yourself. And I think we both know what that makes you.”
I decided then to save my breath, because if the fact that I had bonded with him too wasn’t enough for him—and it appeared not to be—then my words wouldn’t be either. They didn’t even convince me. I went into my room then and closed the door, but I don’t think I slept a wink all night.
Chapter Eight
Tariq
“I’ve been thinking,” Rakkur said, startling me a little, since those were the first words he’d spoken to me all morning.
Not since he told me I was the most boring person he had ever had the misfortune of meeting. I had zero personality, according to him, and this ship was the same. There was nothing to do onboard, and he was totally tired of what little there was, he said. All the people on board were dull, boring people too. And oh yes, the midday meal we’d just had was apparently “bland and stupid” as well.
“Did you hear me? I said I’ve been thinking.”
“Does that require my input?” I asked, a little under my breath, but loud enough so that he heard me. He had tried my patience that morning and he’d done it deliberately. He glared at my comment. He had hearing like a tsumy, or one of the little cave creatures on our planet, who spend most of their lives in the dark and had enormous ears. Not that his were too big—they were perfectly formed, in fact, just like everything else about him. I had decided that his outsides definitely did not match his insides.
It was remarkable how quickly I’d begun insulting him inside my head and sometimes out loud as well. I’m not sure if it was because I was so furious at him or because I was looking for some defense from my feelings for him. But after all, he’d started it. Almost everything he’d said to me that morning had been an insult and intended to get some kind of irritated response from me.
He was pretty good at it too. I’d been with the prince since early that morning and by now I was thoroughly sick of him. I’d been up for hours before that, having had to first find Major Bonnos again and break the news to him about the call from King Davos the evening before, forbidding me to cast off the burden of my newly appointed duties. Bonnos took it better than I’d expected. He was probably relieved—he’d met the prince briefly after all, so maybe he’d been exposed enough to his personality to look on this as the lucky escape it was.
I’d next accompanied Rakkur to the weights room. He’d slipped his robe off as we entered, revealing his nearly naked body, wearing nothing more than a teruga. He then proceeded to do one exercise after another that required him to bend over in front of me a lot, stretching and contorting himself for my benefit. I kept my eyes mostly on the far wall, refusing to give him the attention he was after, but I was all too aware of every move he made. Just like he wanted me to be.
I’d been trained to withstand torture, so I kept my face impassive and stone-like. Maybe that’s why he called me so boring.
Now we were in the dining hall—I was standing by the wall again and he was seated near me—and suddenly, he wanted to talk.
“Did you hear me, Colonel? I said I’ve been thinking about something.”
“Would you like me to do something about that, or are you just sharing?”
“Oh, look at you. You’re making jokes.”
“You asked me to ‘make conversation,’ I think you called it, on account of how uninteresting I was. That’s what I’m attempting to do.”
He glared at me and then motioned for me to sit next to him. I took the chair opposite instead and earned myself another frosty glare.
“Do you hate me now? Do I repel you? Is that why you won’t sit near me?”
“No, Rakkur.” I’d also been strictly forbidden to call him Your Highness.
