Page 26 of The Garnet Daughter (The Viridian Priestess #3)

“Oh.” Suddenly, I am acutely aware we are sitting shoulder to shoulder on the cargo hull floor.

I’m so comfortable talking to him, I didn’t even notice my crossed knee almost overlapping the top of his thigh.

We have been in close quarters before, and all four of us have been through enough together that most affection goes unnoticed.

Ferren holds hands to connect, and I have to hold onto him to fold, but it has always been logistical, for me at least.

When did simply sitting next to him become something that makes my whole body aware of where we are touching and my stomach flutter like this?

The screen flickers and the smaller lights next to it glow green.

He shuts the panel, satisfied. “This one will sync the rest to what we want from them. I will place them outside and then it will be a few hours before we get any information, if you want to rest for a while.”

I stand up faster than necessary. “I will go . . . do that.” I point with my thumb behind me awkwardly.

“Alright then.” He smiles. “I will let you know if anything is detected.”

I’m almost convinced he can control when the dimple on the side of his face presents itself because I reject the possibility that I only note it when I am flustered.

I back up slowly, trying not to look directly at him because I can’t be trusted, and then turn to briskly walk toward the mess hall.

Thank First Mother for the bathing stall within my room’s lavatory. The water pours down from the ceiling and is perfectly warm. The grime and emotions from the day wash down the drain, making me feel like myself again.

I sit with my legs crossed on my bed, nibbling on the protein squares I brought back to my room and running my fingers across my forearm.

The wound is closed. I debate putting fresh bandages around it, but it seems pointless.

Perhaps only outside of the ship when the high winds blow around sand that could irritate it.

I pull out the note from August I’m using as a bookmark.

He saw it in the mess hall when he was impersonating a commander and picked it up, held it in his hand, and stared hard at it.

I’m curious what crossed his mind, or why I even kept it when it only says where he left to that morning and his name, as if I would not have known it was from him.

I wonder if he knows how lucky I am that he made the stupid choice to come with me, to stick together when I was too stubborn and left him behind in a way he never would have done to me.

Commander Wesley left me, a trusted guard, and if August weren’t here, I would be with some other random Viathan, not knowing what to do, somewhere in the birthlands.

Suddenly, I’m standing, my body moving on its own the moment I think of telling him just how much I appreciate his help.

I smack the panel on the side of the door and step out as it whooshes open, trying to control myself and not dart in his direction.

As soon as my bare feet hit the threshold, I see him turning down the hall of this wing.

He breaks out a heart-twisting smile like he is genuinely happy to see me, as if I didn’t leave just over an hour ago.

He stops in front of me in the middle of the hall between my door and the one to his room across from mine.

“I, um, was coming to see how it went,” I say and want to fold myself off a cliff.

“They are scanning now. I have the map receiving in the cockpit but nothing to really look at yet, probably could sleep for a few hours while we can. I will check it again soon.”

“Oh, good.”

“They cover a huge area.” He juts his chin toward his room. “I’m going to shower and nap.”

“Hopefully I can find something useful in the spell book. There is a chapter on binding.” I stall and shift on my feet and watch him step toward his room.

I know he is being polite, giving me the privacy he always makes sure I have when it is just the two of us, aware of the possibility that I could become uncomfortable.

“Binding. Sounds serious.”

I nod, unsure of what to say but not wanting to part just yet.

“Well, enjoy your reading,” he teases.

I almost reenter my room but pause. “August?”

His brow crinkles slightly and he stops in the threshold of his room, waiting for me to continue.

“I’m sorry I left. I regret it. I’m glad you are here.”

He looks like he is holding himself in place with every cell in his body, the soft, easy-going look on his face replaced with a darker one.

The space between our rooms seems closer than before, tension running through it and closing the doorways in on each other.

It’s intense, but I can’t turn away. I am more than happy he is here. There is a level of safety and calm I can’t reach when he is not near me, and although it’s terrifying, I don’t wish it away.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew that,” I finish.

“You would have to fold quite the distance to get rid of me.” He huffs. “But remember, I’m very good at flying so it wouldn’t take long to reach you.”

I hate how much that makes me smile, so I slowly turn back toward my room to lock myself away and focus on my task. “Good night.”

“Good night, Callia,” he says but doesn’t shut his door, still watching me until the very last sliver of mine closes.