Shattered Destiny: A Galactic Adventure, Episode One

  Chapter 5

  Shar

  I was aboard an Arterian Royal warship, I’d been drafted into the Army, and yet, all I could do as I sat there in the armory, waiting to be measured for my armor, was think about that goddamn prince.

  The thought of him completely owned my mind.

  I’d never experienced anything like this. Anything so impossibly, goddamn invasive.

  Though I’d never had a self-destructive tendency in my life, my gaze flicked toward a blaster sitting on the abandoned crates to my side. I suddenly got the urge to clutch it up and take it to my head.

  But the urge passed, quickly, as I clenched my teeth and told myself I’d figure out what the hell was going on. Maybe I had some kind of strange virus. Or I’d been hit on the head this morning when I’d fought with the breakers. There would be some way to explain what was happening to me. And goddammit, I would find out what that was. And then… then I’d find some way off this ship.

  With that strong determination welling in my heart, I sat there, teeth clenched, gaze locked hard on the far side of the room as a few engineers worked on measuring my armor.

  I’d never had armor in the past, not by choice, but out of a simple lack of funds. Armor wasn’t just expensive to purchase, it was extremely expensive to upkeep.

  It was also meant to be hard to train yourself to use, but as one of the engineering techs came up to me and placed another gauntlet around my arm, and I managed to shift the thing without the least bit of trouble, he shot me an impressed look.

  “Where exactly did they dig you up from?” he asked from under his breath.

  Maybe it was a simple joke, but I didn’t like the look on the guy’s face. He, like most of the other Arterian soldiers I’d met, looked upon me like a bit of dirt the Prince had dragged aboard.

  I set my jaw into a strong line and didn’t bother to answer.

  In fact, I didn’t bother to answer most questions and pretty much ignored everyone until my armor was set.

  Once it was complete and my helmet was locked in place over my head, I felt like tearing the whole thing off. I’d never been claustrophobic before, but then again, I’d never been encased in a metal tomb, either.

  Before I could whip the gauntlets off my hands and chuck the helmet from my head, I heard footsteps and turned over my shoulder to see Mark walk into the room.

  Immediately, the engineers in the room stood and saluted.

  Most of them looked as though they were full Arterians, and now I was close enough to see the difference, I could tell that Mark was half human.

  I’d always been taught that the Arterians were an insular race – they liked their own. So I was surprised to see a half human on the right-hand side of the Prince.

  My stomach coiled just thinking of him, and I had to clench my teeth even harder to push that thought away.

  I took a rigid step toward Mark, one of my hands still pressed over my gauntlet threateningly.

  I watched his bright eyes flash down to it as his eyebrows rose high into his hairline. “I wouldn’t recommend that.”

  I managed to unclench my teeth for half a second. “What do you mean?”

  “It takes a while to adjust. Trust me. But you get used to it. Rip it off a few minutes after it’s been soldered together, and it will only end up coming out of your paycheck.”

  “Paycheck?” My brow crumpled, even though no one could see.

  He chuckled. “Didn’t think you’d get paid?”

  I didn’t respond. There was one good thing about this helmet – it hid my facial expressions. I could twist my lips and sneer as much as I wanted. And for a woman as expressive as me, that was a godsend.

  Right now I narrowed my eyes at this Mark character, parted my lips back, and shot him the kind of look that told him I wanted to rip his kidneys out.

  “You will get paid much more than you did at the refinery. The Arterians look after their royal guards.”

  I made no effort to stop my back from straightening, my shoulders from locking down, and my hands from curling into fists. “I’m not Arterian.”

  He looked at me seriously, and I saw his gaze slice toward the Arterian engineers in the room. He appeared to pause as if he were checking his words carefully. “No, you’re not, but that doesn’t matter. Now you are a draftee in the Arterian Army, you will have the full rights of an Arterian citizen.”

  I still glared at him from under the confines of my armor. I didn’t want to have the full rights of an Arterian citizen. I wanted all of this to go away. Though I didn’t exactly love my life at the refinery, at least it was my life.

  Now I would work for this Prince Xarin, following his beck and call….

  I suddenly shivered violently, my shoulders jerking.

  Mark narrowed his eyes and brought up a hand in a steadying motion. “I’m not lying. It will get easier. The mind just takes a while to adjust to the confines of armor.”

  Maybe it was something to do with the kind edge to Mark’s voice, but I found myself opening my lips and replying honestly, “It feels like a coffin.”

  He chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. “That it does,” he said. There was something strangely serious about his tone, something bitter, too. But whatever it was, he wiped it away with a smile.

  Mark the Imperial Star Guard had a nice smile. It had been a while since I’d seen a smile.

  I couldn’t exactly claim that my colleagues at the refinery had been particularly good at putting you at ease, but Mark appeared to have a skill for it, and I found myself relaxing, if only a little.

  Maybe Mark could see it, because he pushed further into the room. “Would you like a tour of the ship?”

  I blinked. I also took the opportunity to survey the expressions of the techs in the room. With just one look at their expressions, I realized it wasn’t normal for the Prince’s right-hand man to do something like this.

  Mark flicked his gaze at the techs, too.

  There was something there… something beyond his smooth calm.

  Before I could figure out what it was, he pushed forward again, then nodded over his shoulder. “Come on. This ship is huge. You won’t have much time to familiarize yourself with it. Now your armor’s fitted, I imagine Xarin will want to take you on missions, considering your skills.”

  I stiffened even more, all the muscles along my back becoming so hard a warning suddenly flashed over the insides of my armor.

  Mark motioned me forward once more.

  … And I followed.

  I hadn’t intended to, but my feet chose to follow.

  …

  Prince Xarin

  I stared at Arteria. Her hologram stood just before me.

  She wore a beautiful flowing purple gown that touched her bare feet. Her blood red hair was knotted loosely over her shoulder, and it tapered softly down her neck, drawing eyes to her neck.

  She watched me, hands pressed together in a half praying motion. I walked nervously around the room, striding down one side of the room only to turn sharply on my foot and spring down the other.

  “Xarin, it will all work out. Have faith. Have trust,” she said, her beautiful melodious voice tinkling like a bell on the wind.

  I brought up a sweaty hand and locked it on my chin, finally stopping my pacing.

  It felt like I was trapped. By the room, by my ship, by tradition.

  Just when the swirling nerves and anger threatened to be too much, Arteria’s hologram took several steps forward and reached a hand out toward me.

  A few motes of dust traveled through her fingers as they stretched toward my face. Her palm tried to lock against my jaw, but could not.

  For she was nothing more than tamed light.

  Though her move was clearly meant to comfort me, it did the exact opposite.

  I had always loved Arteria. From her perfect visage to her truly kind nature, she was my oasis from my family.

  If I were to marry her, all my troubles wou
ld be washed away. I would no longer have to roam the galaxy searching for the Zorv.

  But there was one problem. A problem that never went away.

  She wasn’t my betrothed.

  While Arteria could satisfy my heart, she could never satisfy tradition.

  I pushed away from her hand and began pacing again.

  Arteria watched me with a worried gaze. “Xarin, everything will be alright. Trust me.”

  My lips curled up into a defeated smile at that. Not at the offer to trust her – as I’d do that readily – but at the statement that everything was alright.

  Nothing could be further from the truth.

  “No matter what happens, I will wait for you on the homeworld.” She dropped her hands and clutched them reverently as she turned her gaze on me.

  Her eyes were the deepest green color. They were lit up like a constellation and drew you in with the ease of a hand around your wrist.

  I found myself taking a hasty step forward. “… Arteria, I have no idea how long I’ll be out here. The Zorv—”

  “Will be defeated soon,” she said without pause. She spoke with such conviction I almost believed her promise.

  Then reality sank back in as an alarm blared through my room.

  I shifted over my shoulder and stared at a screen that protruded from the nearest wall.

  “… I have to go.” I took another forced step away from her.

  “Xarin?” She reached out a hand to me, her hair shifting over her shoulder as her eyes drew wide.

  I swiped a hand to my left, and the communication ended, her hologram disappearing in a spark of light like a star dying.

  I stared at the spot her bare feet had stood upon until another pitching alarm stole my attention away.

  I closed my eyes for a brief second and activated my communication implant. “On my way.” I spun around and headed out the door.

  I was on my own private deck.

  No one should be here except for me, and yet as I exited, I felt something.

  A sudden surge of emotion that charged up my back and sank through my gut with all the vicious speed of a brutal punch.

  My eyes plastered wide open as I scanned both ends of the corridor. My hand even went for my blade.

  … But there was nothing out there.

  Except the sensation that kept climbing my back.

  It felt as if there was some kind of… presence out there. A ghostly apparition.

  Yet just as I sank my mind into that terrifying sensation, it passed.

  The com panel to my side beeped once more, reminding me of the warning.

  And I pressed on.

  …

  Shar

  Mark was nice.

  A part of me – the suspicious part that always strove to keep me alive – wondered why.

  What could a man like Mark hope to achieve by being nice to a woman like me?

  I was no fool. The years had not been kind to me. I had no access to advanced genetic technology, and I could not hold back the wrinkles or sun damage.

  I’d cut most of my hair off years ago and kept it trimmed save for two thick, beaded, threaded plaits that grew along my temples and hung down my back.

  No one had ever described me as pretty, and never would. I was gritty, less of a woman and more of a survival machine.

  It didn’t bother me, but again it made me question what Mark’s agenda could be….

  He continued to lead me through the ship.

  I had not been able to appreciate how big it truly was. I had never seen anything on this scale, nor of this sophistication.

  The modern galaxy was a mix of technologies, old and new. It all came down to what you could afford, and as I strode through the clean, clinical corridors of the Illuminate, I realized there was nothing the Arterians could not afford.

  “The primary operations room is this way,” Mark continued, never dropping his friendly tone or countenance. He was acting as if we’d been friends all our lives.

  … And it was having an effect on me, however subtle.

  I did not trust easily, and yet I felt myself warming to him.

  I even smiled.

  I’d taken my armor off, leaving it in the armory for a few final touch ups.

  There was nothing to hide my expression.

  Mark saw my smile, and his eyes lingered on it for a split second. Then he brought a hand up and patted it along his smooth skull.

  I was momentarily taken in by the look in his eyes.

  Then we reached a heavy set of red doors. Though the whole ship was impressive, there was something even more imposing about these.

  Mark straightened his back and nodded toward them. “We’re about to enter the primary operations room. You will need to be on your best behavior. Stick with me, do what I say, and don’t touch anything.”

  Though I wasn’t the dutiful type, for some reason I snapped a salute.

  Mark grinned.

  I found my eyes locking on that grin as he turned away and strode toward the doors.

  They opened as he approached.

  … And I stared in at an awe-inspiring sight.

  It was a sprawling room set on three different levels, packed with banks of consoles and viewscreens, and completely teeming with crew.

  The crew was so busy none of them bothered to look up as Mark strode in.

  He wasn’t wearing his armor. As I cast around, I realized that apart from a few security personnel, most people simply wore fatigues.

  Obviously, they thought this ship was safe.

  I doubted that. I couldn’t shake the feeling this place was cursed.

  I kept on my toes as I followed Mark. He said very little as he walked around and completed a few tasks.

  I watched him, and though I had a hard time understanding most of the systems he interacted with, it was instructive.

  It was when we were roughly on the far side of the operations room that an alarm suddenly blared through the room.

  The scurrying crew stopped, backs snapping so straight they looked like daisies popping out of a field.

  “Shit,” Mark spat, eyes bulging wide as he twisted and half-ran toward a man in the center of the room.

  From his attire and the stripes down his shoulder, it was clear he was the Captain.

  With no idea what to do, I pressed as close as I could toward Mark without getting in anyone’s way.

  “It’s a civilian transport, non-Arterian,” the Captain said.

  Mark swore again. “Is Xarin on his way?”

  The Captain nodded.

  Mark turned and swooped his attention across the room until he locked in on the lift doors on the far wall.

  … Xarin.

  Oh, god, I was about to see Xarin again.

  That realization flooded through my heart and bled through my chest as if someone had punctured my ventricles.

  Without my helmet, it was hell to control my expression.

  I kept telling myself there was no earthly reason to react like this around the Prince – I despised royalty. The very idea of it was anathema to everything I believed in. The Arterians and their traditions were responsible for most of the inequity in the galaxy, inequity that had directly led to my brutal life.

  So I tried to harden my expression as the doors finally opened and he swooped in.

  He was not wearing his armor.

  That point somehow stuck in my mind and washed away my anger.

  He was completely exposed.

  Fear settled in my gut so quickly, it was as if it appeared with the speed of a photon.

  I even brought a twitching hand up and locked it on my middle.

  I wanted to be angry at Xarin – he’d virtually kidnapped me and brought me aboard this ship. And yet all I could think about was how much of an idiot he was for taking his armor off….

  He may think his ship was safe, but life had taught me over and over again that nothing in this universe came without danger.

  Xarin swoope
d across the room.

  He came to a stop before the Captain and Mark.

  Suddenly, every crew member in the room straightened, tucked a hand against their chest, and bowed low.

  Every crew member, except for me.

  I looked around confused.

  All eyes locked on me, and for the first time since entering the room, Xarin deigned to look at me.

  “Bow,” the Captain said through stiff lips.

  Though I really didn’t want to, I could read the Captain’s mood. If I chose not to bow, it would be the final move I’d ever make.

  I flicked my gaze to the side and locked in on some crew members who were still bowed, and tried to copy their posture.

  The Prince extended a hand to me, the fingers wide. Without looking at me, he muttered, “Don’t bother,” through stiff white lips.

  Then he turned his full attention to the Captain, practically shunting his back in front of me until all I could see was his broad shoulders.

  “When will we intercept,” Xarin demanded.

  The Captain straightened up from his bow. “We have not yet altered our course.”

  “Alter it now,” Xarin’s voice became dark. “We have no time to waste.”

  The Captain briefly shared a look with Mark. Though I tried to stare around Xarin’s shoulder, I couldn’t see exactly what that look was.

  “We do not technically need to intercept,” the Captain said carefully, very carefully. “It is not an Arterian transport.”

  Anger suddenly punched through my gut as I realized what the Captain was getting at.

  Sure, there were 2000 people on that transport, but they weren’t Arterian, so who cared.

  I could no longer control my expression. If it weren’t for Xarin’s broad form blocking me off, I would have locked my mutinous glare on the Captain.

  Xarin brought up a hand. The move was even more swift and hard than the one he’d used to dismiss me minutes ago. “We will intercept. I don’t care who’s on that transport. All that matters is the Zorv are about to attack it.”

  I wanted to keep hating the Prince – but at that moment, for just a single second, my thoughts aligned with his.

  Perhaps he was doing this for his own benefit, but he was still going to save those people.

  As my chest swelled with an odd sense of pride, my gaze flicked to the side.

  For some reason, it locked on a crewmember pushing forward.

  Slowly, with measured movements.

  Their expression was….

  I acted. No, my body did. It rounded my shoulder and shoved it hard into Xarin’s back, knocking him off balance just before a blaster bullet could slice him through the middle.

  It sliced through the top of my shoulder, instead. It didn’t drive down to the bone, but it took off a chunk of my flesh, and blood splattered over the floor by my feet.

  It should have been enough to send me into a deep sense of shock.

  Instead, I punched forward, thrust right past the Captain, and locked my hands on the rail that separated his small circular raised platform from the rest of the operations room.

  It had been barely a few seconds since that officer had tried to shoot Xarin – still, a few seconds was enough. Before the guards scattered around the room could get to the officer, he brought up his gun to fire again.

  I had no intention of letting him pull the trigger.

  I slammed my hands on the rail and vaulted right over the top of it, kicking out at the same time, pressing both feet together and snagging the guy on the back of his shoulder.

  How I managed to reach him, I didn’t know, but we both went down.

  The guy still had the blaster in his grip, and he tried to shove it against my face as he fired again.

  I jerked back just in time, the white-hot blast searing the skin along my cheek.

  He managed to lock his hand on my damaged shoulder, and he dug his fingers in.

  I screamed, but I also brought up my good elbow and plunged it into his gut. Just as it sank against his ribs with the force to crack bone, I extended my hand and slammed the back of it into his nose.

  His nose broke with a satisfying crack, and blood splattered his cheeks.

  I brought my foot around, kicked him in the gut once more, then punched him in the face.

  This time he went down. For good.

  Xarin’s guards flooded toward us, whipping their guns out and fixing them on the man.

  I locked the back of my hand against my mouth and stood. I smoothly stepped back as the guards threw themselves at the man.

  Blood pooled down my shoulder and slicked over my leg, slicking the tread of my boot. I ignored it as I took one final step back.

  All eyes were on the man. Every single person in the room stood in rigid surprise as the guards restrained him.

  All eyes, except for Xarin’s.

  He chose to watch me.

  I flicked my hand to the side, dislodging the blood slicked over my fingers, and sending it splattering onto the floor.

  All too quickly non-essential personnel were cleared from the bridge, which included me.

  I was ushered back the armory, where they had rudimentary medical equipment, which was all I needed, thankfully.

  My mind was spinning. I kept pulling my hands up to look at them.

  How the hell had I known that guy was going to shoot Xarin? The second the Prince had entered the room, was the second I’d known he was in trouble.

  How?

  As that painful thought spun in my mind, I was led into the armory. Though a tech offered to help, I didn’t need it. I grabbed a portable med kit off them and set to work repairing my shoulder.

  I tore off the sleeve of my tunic and threw it on the floor by my feet as I rested back against a crate. With the open kit to my side, I searched for what I would need with half a mind.

  The rest was locked on the armory.

  I watched each tech and soldier in turn. They all reacted to the shocking incident on the bridge differently.

  The first rule of survival was to attend to your environment.

  Watch.

  Never let a detail go.

  So I watched silently as I applied wound mesh and skin glue to my arm. I didn’t bother to give myself pain killers – they dulled the mind.

  Some of the techs – the full Arterians – looked horrified at what had happened. Sure, I wasn’t familiar with their race, but some facial expressions are universal.

  Some of the other techs and soldiers – the ones who looked as if they were mixed race – barely registered it.

  Others… looked pleased. Maybe I was making that up – an independent observer wouldn’t be able to pick up the same emotions I was – but I just knew they didn’t care that Xarin had almost been killed.

  I found my eyes narrowing to a point.

  So I wasn’t the only person who hated Xarin, then.

  As soon as I thought that, pain stabbed through my head. I flicked my neck to the side, brought a hand up, and locked it on my brow.

  Just as I did, the doors opened.

  … I knew who it was, even before they strode into the room.

  Xarin, finally in full armor. Though his helmet was off, a slim, almost translucent force-field remained over his face.

  Mark was by his side.

  Xarin strode in with purpose.

  Toward me.

  Just before my heart could explode in my chest, he strode right past to the primary armory cupboard on the far wall.

  … He didn’t even glance my way.

  I’d just saved his life, and he didn’t even deign to register my presence.

  He spoke to Mark in hushed tones.

  As soon as he reached the back wall, a light appeared over the top of the cupboard.

  The cupboard was made out of a specialized kind of metal mesh that crackled with a constant charge of electricity.

  It was designed to keep people out. With the right code, a man in armor would be able to wal
k through. Without the right code, he’d be fried to a pile of ash.

  I doubted there was anything on this ship the Prince couldn’t access. And as he strode toward the metal cupboard, a door opened for him.

  Instantly, the array of weapons lined up on the wall changed. The wall disappeared into a recess in the floor, revealing another wall behind.

  … And it was crammed full of weapons.

  Weapons that had the strangest effect on me.

  My body seized. It was as if that ghostly hand was back, this time clutching around my throat with all the force of a noose.

  I even brought a suddenly sweaty hand up and clutched it against my neck.

  I couldn’t see properly, and I pushed to my feet, slowly, body as rigid as rock.

  The Prince and Mark did not spend long in the weapons cupboard. The Prince selected something off the wall, locked it against his back, and walked out.

  Immediately, the wall disappeared, revealing the ordinary array of weapons once more.

  Once Mark and the Prince were out of the cupboard, it locked again.

  Sit back down, I begged myself. Sit back down, you idiot.

  No matter how hard I berated myself, my body wouldn’t comply.

  As Mark and the Prince drew closer, I picked up their conversation.

  “Quick. It has to be quick. No mistakes this time,” the Prince growled, voice dropping several registers on the phrase this time.

  I caught myself staring into his eyes once more.

  Mesmerizing didn’t do them justice….

  They reached me.

  The Prince stopped. For the first time, he appeared to acknowledge my presence. His gaze flicked from my blood-covered boots, across to my arm, then finally to my face.

  He didn’t say anything.

  It took Mark clearing his throat to break the uncomfortable silence.

  The Prince straightened. There was something so penetrating about his gaze. It reminded me on every level that he wasn’t human. More than that, though, it reminded me that he thought he was a god.

  I wanted my jaw to harden, but it resisted my move.

  Mark cleared his throat once more. “Your highness, this is the woman from—”

  “The worker from the refinery,” Xarin interrupted.

  The worker from the refinery…? Really? That was how he referred to me?

  Barely 10 minutes ago, I had saved his life.

  Finally, my jaw hardened. I made no attempt to control my expression.

  The Prince made no attempt to control his expression, either, as he appeared to survey me like you might a specimen in a lab.

  Again Mark cleared his throat. “After training, she’ll be cleared for operational missions. She’s already been fitted for her armor.”

  The Prince didn’t appear to care. He kept looking at me, his gaze slicing over my form as if he were taking a mental picture so perfect he’d be able to recreate me later.

  My stomach curdled at that, though curdled wasn’t quite the right word.

  “She will make a great asset to our fighting force,” Mark continued.

  Xarin tipped his head back and surveyed me from head to foot with one quick, final, dismissive look. “Once she’s cleaned up,” he remarked as he turned from me, without ever making actual eye contact, and nodded at Mark, “She may suffice.”

  She may suffice, might she?

  This guy was a demeaning, arrogant, belittling asshole.

  Maybe Mark caught sight of my expression, because he cleared his throat, nodded at Xarin, and quickly motioned me away.

  I turned, a sneer on my lips as I strode toward the door.

  Mark caught up with me outside, another clearly impressed breath pushing from his parted lips. But his expression had a hard edge, too. “Shar, you were incredible on the bridge. But you can’t….” He appeared to be uncomfortable. He sniffed and took a sharp step backward. “Look,” he tipped his head down and looked up at me from under his brows, “You can’t look at Prince Xarin like that.”

  I made no attempt to hide my disgust. “Really? I can’t look at him like that? Because he was looking at me like I’m nothing more than a goddamn scrap of meat.”

  Mark paled, gaze flashing up and down the corridor as if he were checking for witnesses. He pressed forward again.

  For some reason, my heart chose that exact moment to speed up.

  I looked at him with wide eyes.

  “Shar, I know you’re unfamiliar with the Arterian Royal Family. I know you don’t know their traditions. People will cut you some slack. Some,” his voice reverberated on that word. “But you can’t act out of line. Especially around Xarin. You have to be careful.”

  I opened my mouth to demand why, but Mark brought up a hand so quickly it was almost as if he intended to slice it through the wall.

  “Be careful,” he said, the kindness dropping from his tone.

  I surveyed him with a wary gaze. “Fine,” I said through clenched teeth. “How long until we reach the civilian transport?” I demanded, switching moods almost instantly.

  My troubles with Xarin may be one thing – a terrible, frustrating thing – but I had morals. Hardened, gritty morals that had survived with me all these years.

  You didn’t put innocents at risk.

  Again Mark looked impressed. It was a deeper, more thoughtful look this time. He began to slowly chuckle as he tilted his head to the side and appeared to assess me from a different angle. “We don’t come across many like you in the Empire,” he said softly, distractedly.

  My eyebrows descended low over my eyes. “What does that mean?”

  There was an odd touch to his tone. For some reason, it sent the smallest spark of nerves climbing my back.

  “Never mind,” he said quickly. “And the transport, that doesn’t concern you. You’ve been injured.” His gaze flashed down to my shoulder.

  Instinctively I brought a hand up and ran it over my glued-on wound-mesh. “I’m fine. It’ll heal. I’m ready for battle,” I added.

  He chucked his head back and laughed. “I’m sure you are. That’s not the point. The Prince wants this to be done quickly, smoothly. He’s only taking his Imperial guards. It should be enough. You, go to your quarters and rest.”

  “Quarters?” I questioned.

  He laughed again. And Mark appeared to enjoy laughing at me, because his eyes sparkled all the more every time he did it. “Where did you think you would sleep? At Xarin’s foot?” he commented.

  Maybe the comment was intended to be innocent. It wasn’t. It was like a punch to the gut.

  I felt my heart shudder, my breathing becoming so shallow my chest began to fill with a cold pressure.

  If Mark saw my disproportionate reaction, he didn’t comment on it. “You get your own quarters, Shar. This ship is big enough that crew don’t have to share. If you ask one of the armory guards, they’ll let you know where it is. But I have to go now.” He turned to walk away, but couldn’t appear to do it. He flicked his gaze back to me. I couldn’t be sure, but I felt as if it lingered.

  I didn’t blush. I never felt embarrassed. And yet I had the strangest desire to shrink away from him. “… Yes?”

  “Never mind.” With that, he turned and walked away.

  I watched him.

  “Good luck,” I muttered.

  He didn’t turn.

  With nothing else to do, I found my quarters and settled in.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I flopped on my bed, locked my hands over my eyes, and stared at the ceiling through my interlacing fingers.

  Though I tried hard to fight it – though I used every mental technique I knew – I couldn’t stop myself. My every thought returned to the Prince.