There was sadness in the depths of her blue eyes—pity. He ground his teeth at the sight of it. He did not want her to feel cause to pity him; he wanted her admiration, her respect, her affection. Anything but this mournful look.
“It’s not so bad.” His tail knocked loudly against the door frame as it flicked in agitation.
“You deserve better. Why don’t you guys move into the overseer’s quarters?”
I deserve far worse.
“There are not enough rooms,” he said. “It would not be equitable. What of those below, who suffer even more cramped conditions than these?”
She contemplated it, tucking one boot up against his bedframe so she could rest her chin on her knee. “You guys are really altruistic for people who were raised in such cruel conditions.”
He felt a pang of guilt at how wrong she would have been in that assessment of him only two cycles ago. “Is that unusual?”
“For humans? Kind of. We’re prone to altruism, but we’re also possessed by a crippling sense of greed and selfishness. I guess you could say it’s all over the map.”
“Not all hybrids are the same,” he said. “I’m sure there are some who would jump at the chance to fill the vacuum left by the overseers, but… I am not among them.”
“That’s noble.”
“It isn’t,” he said thickly, uncomfortable with her constant attempts to praise him.
He should tell her the truth, tell her why so many auretians had made it back to theGidalanthe day of the rebellion. Why so many of the bunks in this hall were empty. Shame weakened his resolve. The words stuck in his throat.
She unfurled from the bed, frowning as she crossed to stand before him. Her hand fell on his arm, her thumb brushing a soothing pattern over his muscles. “What’s wrong?” she whispered, so close that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze.
He shook his head, too much of a coward to speak the truth to her. His throat worked painfully, still choking on what he couldn’t bear to tell her.
Her hand skimmed up to cup his cheek as her brows knitted together.
“Take me somewhere else.” Her voice pitched as though she were speaking to a child. “Some place you like. Is there anywhere like that?”
He closed his eyes and nodded, nuzzling into her palm, greedily soaking up the comfort she offered him.
“Show me.”
CHAPTER 34
Cordelia followed Rentirthrough the stark halls until they gave way to more of that opulent architecture that apparently only the auretians were worthy of enjoying. Rentir kept glancing over his shoulder at her, his expression torn.
He held open a door for her, and humid air thick with the sumptuous smell of fresh blossoms filled her senses. She grew heavy-lidded as they stepped into the big glass dome, filled so densely with plants and mist that she could only make out the shape of the building from the vaulted ceiling.
“What is this place?” she breathed, turning in a circle.
“This is the conservatory. All the plants are from Auretia.”
The foliage was silvery gray and palest white, and the blossoms were every shade of jewel tone. Some flowers were as small as her pinky finger and numbered in the thousands, while others were bigger than her head and made their stalks droop under their weight. The smell was overpowering, but not in the eye-watering way of a heavy perfume. No, the scents of these blooms were sweet and musky and rich, layering over each other so that each breath allowed her to pick out some new smell she hadn’t noticed before. It was incredible.
“Not many of the others know this place.” His attention was pinned to her with no interest in any of the splendor around them. “The only reason I’m familiar with it is because…”
“Because?” She pressed, letting go of a burgundy blossom. It sprang from her fingertips and bounced wildly at the end of its stem.
“I served as security for the overseers,” he said, his tail twitching at the tip but otherwise unusually still. “They often took their meetings here. It reminded them of home.”
She wound down a path through the plants, exploring as Rentir trailed behind her. The sun was beginning to set on them, the room darkening bit by bit. She expected an explosion of color like what she’d experienced on Yulaira, but the only thing that glowed in the darkness was Rentir.
She hummed, studying the glowing spots over the bridge of his nose.
“What?” he asked in a small voice.
