Zara pushed back her hood first, her blonde hair escaping in wisps around her face. "Was that really a Vandar I saw leaving here?"
"With a loaf of bread," Skye confirmed, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed and her red hair spilling over her shoulders. "Which is apparently all Jasmine is willing to tell me."
"There's nothing to tell." I went back to shaping loaves, needing something to do with my hands. "He came in. He took bread. He left."
"He didn't say anything?" Zara’s gaze was sharp and probing, reminding me why she was one of our best strategists. "Nothing about why he was here? About the alliance? About the mandatory welcome assembly?”
Kaya laughed from where she was arranging fresh loaves in baskets. “Why would he tell us any of that?”
"You're leaving something out." Skye's voice was knowing. She moved closer, studying my face with the familiarity of someone who'd known me since we were children playing in snow drifts and making ice forts. One of Skye’s talents was reading people, which had come in very handy when it came to dealing with Imperial soldiers. "You've got a look, Jas."
"I do not have a look." I focused very intently on the dough beneath my hands.
"You absolutely have a look," Skye insisted calmly. "I've been your best friend since forever. I know that look."
My best friend’s ability to calmly see through any ruse or lie was both infuriating and crucial for our rebellion. This wasn’t the first time I wished she would keep her insight trained on the enemy instead of on me.
“Maybe it was because the Vandar was so hot,” Kaya teased. “Maybe she’s still flustered.”
"He was enormous and half-naked," I said defensively. "And he had a tail. Excuse me for being startled."
"Startled," Kaya repeated, still grinning. "Sure. Let's call it that."
I shot my traitor sister a withering look that she pretended not to notice, although Kaya wasn’t nearly as oblivious and flighty as she’d like everyone to think.
“If anything,” Brielle said, “Jasmine looked at the Vandar like she wanted to kill him.”
Now Zara grinned, her eyes flashing approval. “That sounds about right.”
Meg slipped in through the door, already nibbling her fingernails. It was a nervous habit the petite woman had never broken, even though she pulled off some of the most nerve-racking sabotage missions. "Are we talking about the Vandar? I saw the frostbitten prick from my window. He’s, um, big."
For some reason, I cringed at the insult that was common on Lexxona.
"Big is one word for him," Kaya said, hopping up to sit on the counter. "If all the Vandar are that hot, I don't want to resist anything."
"Kaya!" I shot my sister a look, but she just shrugged, unrepentant.
Zara wasn't smiling anymore. She'd moved to the window, looking out at the street where more colonists were emerging, heading toward the town square. "Does the Vandar alliance make our work pointless?"
Brielle sighed and tucked her book under her arm, heading for the doorway. "I'm going to go read somewhere quieter. Try not to start a revolution before lunch."
When she’d disappeared, Kaya swung her legs from the counter. "Look, I'm not officially part of your secret club, but I'm also not stupid. And my opinion? If all the Vandar are built like that one, we might have bigger problems. Or better ones. Depending on your perspective."
Meg shook her head, brown bangs flopping over her forehead. "They might be just as bad as the Zagrath. We might end up just as busy. Or busier." She resumed nibbling her fingernails.
"But the Vandar fight the Zagrath," Zara pointed out. She'd moved away from the window, joining us at the counter. "They've been raiding Imperial supply lines for years and freeing settlements from Zagrath control. Logically, we’re on the same team."
I shrugged, patting a shiny ball of dough and admiring Zara’s ability to apply logic to anything. "But they're known by some to be just as ruthless. Violence is violence, whether it's wearing Imperial uniforms or leather kilts."
Skye squared her shoulders, her expression shifting to something fiercer and her green eyes hardening. "There's nothing wrong with being ruthless against injustice."
I looked at my oldest friend and felt a grin tugging at my mouth despite my complicated feelings about the Vandar, especially the one who’d walked into my bakery. "There's always room for those who keep leaders honest."
It was one of the things my father used to say. That every society needed people willing to question authority, to push back against corruption, and to stand up when everyone else was sitting down. He'd believed it so deeply that it had gotten him killed. But he'd also been right.
I wanted to believe that the Vandar would keep their promises. That they'd provide the protection they'd promised. That maybe, for the first time in years, we could breathe easier. That my network of brave, brilliant women who risked everything tosabotage the Empire's control over our colony might finally get to enjoy some peace.
But I'd learned the hard way not to trust leaders. Any leaders.
