Hike’s spaceship is relatively small for a luxury-class traveler. It’s sleek, shiny, and surprisingly opulent with lush fabrics and high-class amenities. While I had my fears about the deal I brokered with the congenial captain, he’s been nothing but accommodating.
“And yer berth’ll be right around here.” Malik’s accent is odd. I can’t place it, but it holds hints of outlier.
The door swishes open, and a large bed stares back at us. One bed. I don’t look at Renner—that is, Rex, my husband—and instead move to hang my cloak on a hook by the door.
“Yeh two travel light,” Malik comments.
“As long as I have her,” Renner pulls me to his side, “I don’t need anything else.”
He’s obviously overdoing it, but Malik doesn’t notice. “Sure, sure. Cap says if you need anything, the commissary is open to yeh.”
“Thank you, Malik.” I offer him a genuine smile, and he returns it with a lazy salute as he leaves.
The minute he’s gone, Renner launches himself backward onto the bed. He crosses his legs at the ankles and uses his hands to prop his head up, elbows out.
“Now this I could get used to.”
I look at the bed again. The only bed.
“What? You’ve been in my bed before.” His grin is devilish. Nice to see he’s all but back to his old self. All it took was eight hours on an ice ship and a plan to focus on.
“Maybe I can convince him we always sleep in different rooms.” I’m joking, but Renner takes it as a personal offense.
“If I were to marry, I would not have my wife sleep in a separate room.”
Heat fans the smoldering fire I can’t fully douse.
Focus on the mission, Talie.
“But,” he pushes to a sitting position, “you obviously haven’t been on many ships beside the Midway.”
I frown.
“Watch and learn, Le—” He cuts himself off, the nickname coming so naturally. He brushes past me as he walks to the wall by the small table and two padded chairs. Pulling the table out, he taps a discrete button, and a shelf folds out into—
“Another bed?”
He looks back. “Yep. It makes the rooms multi-use. So, you can sleep here, and I’ll just—”
“Not on your life, Cartha.” I leap onto the bed, claiming my spot. If he can pretend the kiss never happened, so can I.
“We could share.”
My eyes snap to his, and I can see his response was to gauge my reaction. He’s looking at me now with emotion I can’t read, but it’s not as light as I’d expect. There’s a serious tone that makes my pulse pound.
“Renner…”
He moves to the bed next to me. I don’t have time to mentally prepare for his warmth or the minty, musky scent he brings.
“I know your path, Talie. I know what it means to you. And I’d never do anything to compromise that. Well, not again.” He flushes. “But…” He searches the tundra, looking from ice pillar to ice pillar.
“But what?” Part of me wants to know what he’ll say, and the other part is afraid one word from him will override any willpower I have.
“Is that what you want?”
His eyes challenge me, flashing like a solar flare. I’m afraid of this question, afraid of the answer I know I should give…and the truth. I sit there so long he probably thinks I’ve become an ice pillar myself, but I don’t know what to say.
Or, I do, but it’s not the right answer. The one my future position demands.
“Okay then.” He drops my hand and stands.
Tell him what you’re thinking.
“Come on.” He’s at the door now, his look unreadable. It’s not quite resignation, not quite defeat. Have I given him hope by not speaking? Or have I made it clear the question is off limits? Or maybe the answer is what we’re both afraid of. “I want to show you something.”
I follow. Perhaps it’s because I don’t have anything else to do, or maybe it’s just that, despite everything, I trust Renner.
He leads us down hallways and through trav-tubes. I don’t know how he’s managed to memorize the ship’s schematics already. And finally, we move past sliding glass-fronted doors onto the star deck.
My gasp is loud in the silent room.
“Hike told me we’d be passing in view of the Alerius Galaxy. It’s not a sight to miss.”
He’s right. The sio-glass enhanced view is stunning, and I walk to a bubbled-out viewport like I’m in a trance. There, nestled among a multitude of ancient stars, is the swirl of misty purples and vibrant reds that make up the Alerius Galaxy. There is a beauty to the sight that fills me with absolute wonder. It washes away my earlier fears.
Tears fill my eyes.
“Are you all right?” He stands close but at a respectful distance.
“It’s…beautiful.”
“Then why are you crying?” He’s completely lost.
“I’m not sure.”
He hesitates before his arm moves across my shoulders, and he gently pulls me to him. I bury my head against his chest and let the tears fall. I know I should resist his comfort, but I sense he only means to be there for me. I’ve left the life I know, the only friends I have, and I’m shooting through the stars with one purpose in mind: to give myself—my future—over for the betterment of the galaxy.
Is it what I want?
His question returns, and my answer is swift. No. I want some form of my life that is true to me but also true to my feelings. I want to kiss Renner and tell him the truth. I want to pretend the throne is someone else’s problem.
But I can’t.
“You know, maybe what you want and what’s best don’t have to be at odds.” The depth of his voice rattles beneath me.
There are centuries steeped in tradition.
The Rule of Gravless was established to create order and peace—a natural progression of rulers endowed with power as a sign of their right to rule. It was this order that has kept Xerus content with its neighboring galaxies and the planets in good standing with one another. All goals that have now been lost to time and greed. Lost to the new galaxy Jas spoke of.
At some point, High Queen Seala Laerkin stopped making decisions—thanks to the kelori—and the galaxy fell under the control of High King Tarus Praxin. Perhaps the Rule is right and, should a Gravless take the throne again, order will be restored. But how does a court-appointed husband aid in that?
My emotions are too raw to reason clearly. I want to agree with Renner, and maybe I do, but anything said now will only give him hope. I won’t offer that only to shatter it later.
Instead, I push away and wipe my cheeks.
“I’m going to rest. It’s been a long day, and my shoulder is aching again.”
He doesn’t move, blocking my path.
“No matter what happens, Talie, I’ll be here for you. Not because of what you are, but because of who you are.”
I can’t help it. I meet his golden-eyed gaze.
“No matter your choice, you have my loyalty.” His eyes offer more. The words are written plainly on every centimeter of his handsome face. I don’t need to hear them—his look speaks volumes.
If only I could be so transparent.
“Thank you.” My words rasp past a dry throat.
I feel the press of his gravity as I walk past. It trails me through the deck and out into the hall like a million tiny threads attaching us at every point. I feel him, not just his gaze following me, his very presence.
Every wayward thought, every innocent glance, every desire ties me to him. The threads knot and pull tight, drawing me back. There is only one response.
I must sever them if I am to rule.