“I heard your session with the Skrizzit was complete. I figured you would be hungry afterward, but I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were in the initial recovery period. It’sbeen a long time since I received my runes, but I still recall how exhausted I was after.”
“Yeah, I kind of passed out. I had no idea getting inked could be so intense.”
“It can be a bit much, yes,” he said, his eyes glancing up and down, taking in the few small, exposed areas where he could see her new designs. “The Skrizzit did good work.”
“I don’t know what to gauge it against, but it seems that way.”
“Trust me, this is quality runework,” he said, his gaze hot and lingering. “So, can I come in?”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. How rude of me. Of course, come in.”
He entered, brushing her softly as he passed. Margot’s skin was so sensitive that even the faintest touch sent odd jolts through her body. Her nipples went rock-hard in a flash, and she felt an almost electric buzz surging lower entirely of its own accord.
Oh, fuck. What the hell was that?
Rylinn set the tray on the small table and took a seat, gesturing for her to join him. It was a very cozy setting, the room not really designed for socializing. But it did have two chairs, so at least it had that going for it.
“I thought you would like to sample something other than fruits and vegetables,” he said, his voice deep and buttery to her ears, the translation runes doing their job and then some.
“What is all that?”
“I had the cooks prepare a few things for you to try. An assortment of flavors to see what type of foods your alien tastebuds might prefer.”
“Alien,” she said with a chuckle. “Yeah, I guess on this planet, I really am the alien.”
“To be fair, there are dozens of races living here. It’s a large world, and none claim it as their own, though some have established rather impressive kingdoms and realms of varyinggovernance systems. But the planet itself is under Dotharian rule, a rest and waystation for all who are in need. And given the resources here, quite a few have taken that offer and run with it.”
Margot’s recent revelations from her conversation with the Skrizzit resurfaced in a flash. “About that. I understand there are a bunch of people on the run here too. Political refugees.”
An understanding look settled onto the man’s chiseled face. “Ah, you’re talking about the Minnorian coup, I take it?”
“The what?”
“The Skrizzit. She’s one of them.”
“And she’s a good person.”
“I don’t doubt it. But you have to understand, laws are laws, and a violent coup will have consequences, even for those peripherally involved.”
“So you know she’s not a bad person.”
“I don’t really know her at all. But I am aware of how these sorts of things often play out. And while Gromm is a very, very enthusiastic hunter of any bounty that will put credits in his accounts, he really does it because he enjoys the game. The sport, if you will. For men like him it is an addiction. Once they get that first taste, they simply cannot stop.”
“And you? What makes you different?”
Rylinn leaned back, stroking his chin in thought. “It’s…complicated.”
“Indulge me.”
“I will. But only if you indulge me as well. Please, do try your food. The cooks went to some effort at my request. I’d hate to see it go to waste.”
Regardless of the situation, Margot was seriously hungry. Frankly, even if he hadn’t urged her to eat, she would have tucked in with gusto in just a few moments anyway.
“Okay,” she said, picking up an alien utensil that shifted shape depending on what food she was moving it toward. TheSwiss Army utensil, she realized with interest.Beats the hell out of a spork.She scooped up a bite of an orange pudding-looking dish and raised it to her lips. “Well? Start talking.”
The food was almost indescribable. Savory, salty, with a hint of sweetness, all the flavors blending in a way that set all of her tastebuds dancing with joy. Whether it was actually amazing, or just that she was really hungry, Margot somehow managed to keep her blissful reaction to herself, however, simply staring at the man, waiting for him to talk.
“Look,” he began. “I’ve done bad things in my time, yes. No one who’s lived the life I have and seen and experienced the things… let’s just say, I’m no saint. But I’m out of that world. I take absolutely no pleasure in violence, and I remain apolitical in my work. I simply accept a job, do what I’ve been hired to do, collect my fee, and, if it is substantial enough, go about my life for as long as possible without having to get back in the thick of things.”
