“Captain Sharpe? Is that you?”
EIGHTEENGIDEON
IT TOOK A MOMENTfor Gideon to pull himself out of Rune’s intoxicating spell and look up.
A familiar young woman stood before their booth. Her auburn curls were pulled back into a tidy bun, and her cheeks dimpled as she smiled down at him. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been wearing a red uniform with a gun at her hip.
Abigail Redfern.
Abbie was a patriot Gideon had met at revolutionary meetings. They’d learned how to load and shoot a gun together. They’d fought alongside each other at the New Dawn. Abbie believed in the New Republic as much as Gideon did.
Maybe more.
After the revolution, they grew closer still. Like two people stumbling out of the darkness together, reaching for each other to make sure they were, in fact, alive. It had been easy with Abbie.Nice.Falling into her bed after a long shift, or bringing her back to his. Soothing each other’s wounds with kisses. Holding each other to fend off the nightmares.
But it wasn’t meant to last. And when Abbie went to work for the Tribunal—a job that came with much higher pay—Gideon fell out of touch with her. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since.
“Abbie? What… what are you doing here?”
She’d traded in her Tribunal uniform for the navy outfit worn by theArcadia’s staff, and in her hand were a paper pad and a pen. Which gave him some idea.
He slid out of the booth and stood up.
“I work here,” said Abbie, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him in a hug. “In the kitchens, mostly. But sometimes I help wait tables.”
Gideon hugged her back. She smelled like cinnamon and bread.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” Abbie pulled away, then grabbed his shoulders. Unlike with Rune, he didn’t have to bend to look into her eyes. “I haven’t seen you in… what? Over a year?” When her gaze dropped to the rest of him, she stepped back, cocking her head. “You got fancy.”
Gideon glanced down at Soren’s suit.
“Trust me, I feel like a peacock.”
Abbie laughed. “Yeah. Emerald isnotyour color.”
“I agree. He looks best in red or black.”
Gideon froze at Rune’s voice. Abbie turned to face her, then glanced quickly back at him.
He rubbed the nape of his neck. “This is…” For some reason, he couldn’t get the words out. “Abbie, meet…”
“I’m Kestrel,” said Rune, smiling brightly up at Abbie.
A little too brightly.
He recalled the three glasses of wine she’d had.
“Kestrel Sharpe.”
Gideon winced at the sound of his last name attached to her fake one.
Abbie’s smile faltered. “Oh. Oh, you two are…” She looked at Gideon, who was staring at a dark knot in the table’s grain.
“Married,” said Rune. “Just recently, in fact.”
Is she slurring her words?
“Oh! Well. Congratulations.” Abbie’s smile returned, but it was no longer so enthusiastic. She turned to Gideon. “Are you busyat sundown tomorrow? Some friends are playing a few rounds of Poor Man’s Trap on Deck C. You should join us. There’s… a lot to catch up on.” She looked to Rune. “Apparently.”
