A laugh bubbled out of Isobel and, before long, fully overtook her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she swiped them away. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so fully.
When her mirth subsided, she found Ved staring at her, his head tilted. “You find it humorous? They could have harmed you, Isobel Nott.”
Isobel opened her mouth to respond, but then his attention snapped to something behind them. She instinctively stepped into him as some mechanism whirred on his person.
“Just one of the beasties catching up to its herd,” he finally said.
“Right,” Isobel murmured, moving away from him just as quickly.
“You’ve been missing.” He closed the distance between them again in a single step—a dance they did often. He took her hand again and rubbed off some of the debris that was still stuck there with his thumb.
She was mesmerized by the simple movement. By the way he gave his touch without care, without concern for what was considered indecent. Were all Xaal so openly physical?
Taking half a step away from him, she pulled her hand out of his grasp. “Missing?” she asked, unsure of his meaning.
“You did not come this last setting.”
“Oh, I was quite busy. It’s Clara’s debut Season, and I had to chaperone.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth, either.
“What is this debut Season?”
Of course he wouldn’t know. “It is when a girl becomes a true woman in society’s eyes. She is introduced formally to the monarch and is eligible for marriage.”
“Like when we let the youth go on the Great Hunt, perhaps.”
Though a social season could be likened to a battlefield, she wasn’t sure they were at all similar.
He continued before she could explain further. “It pleases me to see you, Isobel Nott.” His voice was a gravelly hum. “Though my clan needs me now more than ever. I will work endlessly to get my ship repaired so I can returnto them.”
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she deliberated. She had distracted him several times already from the task at hand, but maybe she could aid him. In fact, she felt it was her duty to do so. “What if I helped? We could accomplish much more with both of us. Any free moments I have will be dedicated to it.” As much as she’d love for him to stay, she knew he couldn’t. The least she could do was help him get back home.
Her own feelings be damned.
“Some of the work is difficult. There are other risks and dangers, too.”
“I understand, but if I’m with you, I know no harm will come to me.” She smiled at him brightly.
His chest heaved.
“But,” she added on, “there need to be rules.”
“Rules,” he ground out. “What are these?”
“There can be no more touching. At all.”
“You don’t want me to touch you?” he rumbled. “It displeases you?”
God please have mercy on her soul. She could barely admit toherselfthat it did anything but displease her. It wasn’t as though she could tell him that his touch would awaken something within her, nor that, no matter how improper it was, she couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities of such a thing. “It isn’t proper,” she said hoarsely.
The light of his eye shields gave way to black, and she couldn’t help but think it indicated disappointment.
But that was silly.
He reached for her, his fingers hovering beside her loose curls. “I will respect your customs and wishes. I won’t touch you, Isobel Nott. Until you ask it of me.” His arm dropped back to his side.
Until.
“Good,” she squeaked. “That should be fine, then.” She buried all the reasoning that had kept her away elsewhere. Someday she would have to face the consequences, even if it were just the risk of eternal disappointment, but not today.
