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Story: Tempted by Celestial Bodies
“Peaceful, yeah, yeah. So maybe they didn’tkillthem. But what about holding them for ransom to try to blackmail my dad into stopping the clear-cutting?”
Jalus’s reply is frigid. “If the Kin had taken your ambassadors, you’d know. You would’ve been given assurance that they were safe, and you would’ve already been presented with terms for their return.”
“I see.” Wrenching open the door to my office, I scan its bare amenities. The blank wallscreen, curved to fit against the bole. Uncushioned collapsible chairs. A desk folded up against the partition, able to flip down if I need a workspace. Nothing left of its former inhabitant or her possessions.
Nothing of the ten who preceded her, either.
I slide the door shut in Jalus’s face and take a breath to collect myself. I’ve been dropped into the middle of a trap, set up for failure on all sides.
But I don’tintend to disappear quietly.
chaptertwo
day two
Distant knocking isthe first thing I register in the morning. “Lady Sinead. Are you awake?”
Jalus. Ugh. Go away.
Leaf-dappled sunlight streams through the treehouse window. I come to consciousness slowly, aware of a bone-deep fatigue. My muscles ache and my skin itches. I feel like I’ve been tossed out of a moving hovercar. What the blazes happened last night?
All I remember is retiring to my room, reading the Imperial news, drawing the window shade—the suns rarely both set at once on Eiris, meaning their “night” is still as bright as day—then lying down to sleep.
Nothing strenuous. Nothing that should have resulted in…scratches all over my arm?
I sit bolt upright, running my fingers across my freckle-dappled skin. Yes, there are thin welts all up and down my arms. I push back the covers and realize it’s my legs, too.
Then I see the state of my nightrobe, and I scream.
My bedroom door slams open, and Jalus rushes in, a stiletto-sharp thorn weapon in each of his lower hands. “What is it, my lady?” Then he stops in his tracks. I watch as the pupils of his wine-dark eyes expand, his jaw hanging slack.
I struggle to gather enough scraps of my shredded, barely-there nightrobe to cover my breasts. “Get out!” I shriek.
He clears his throat. “My apologies.” He whips around, wings ruffled just enough to show a peek of their rainbow undersides, and lets the door slide shut behind him.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I shuffle to the mirror over my washstand and examine the damage up close. The scratches are mostly confined to my limbs, but there are a few faint lines on my face. There’s even one underneath my breather mask. How the blazes did that happen? The mask was firmly in place when I went to sleep, and it was there when I woke.
The cuts aren’t serious; they’ll heal up quickly. But I can’t say the same for my nightrobe. It’s in complete tatters. Barely qualifies as clothing anymore.
Jalus basically saw me naked.
Heat blooms in my cheeks as I remember the way his eyes darkened. Something about a man crashing into my chambers, weapons at the ready to defend me, was undeniably…compelling.
Although I’m fully dressed when I walk out of my cabin, Jalus can’t quite meet my eyes. “Good morning, Lady Sinead. I apologize for intruding.”
My face heats again. “It was nothing. I appreciate your speed in coming to my assistance.”
“May I ask…” Jalus steps forward, his long-fingered hands reaching toward the cuts on my arms. He stops just shy of touching me, making my skin tingle with anticipation. “What happened? When I left, you were uninjured.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Nothing that I can remember. You don’t have rodents here, do you?”
“There are a few animals that roam the forest floor,” says Jalus, “but they don’t often climb to these heights, much less attack people in their sleep.” He folds his lower arms, while using one of his upper hands to absentmindedly smooth his hair. “Lady Sinead, I think I should spend the night with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll stay in another room for your comfort,” he adds hastily. “But I kept watch during your entire sleep cycle and saw no intruders. Whatever happened to you was cleverly orchestrated to avoid detection. I’m afraid it’s connected to the disappearance of the other ambassadors. I won’t allow that to happen again. Not to you.”
My heart thumps. Is it me, or did he emphasize that last part with more warmth than is strictly appropriate? I might be suspicious of his motives, but he seems sincere in wanting to keep me safe.
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