Kalyndi's back stiffened. "Assessment?"
"Your union with Redmon of the North Forest Clan." The woman's voice was all business. "The terms of your arrangement require regular reporting on compatibility and potential fertility."
I stepped forward. "She's been busy saving lives. Your assessment can wait."
The official finally looked at me, her gaze clinical. "Actually, it cannot. The purpose of these unions is clear, and delays are unacceptable."
"We've been focused on the mission," Kalyndi said, her voice carefully neutral. "There's been little time for other activities."
The woman made a note on her tablet. "Unfortunate. The council is particularly interested in your pairing."
"Why mine specifically?" I asked, suspicion growing.
The second official, a thin man with cold eyes, spoke up. "Your genetic profiles suggest an 87% compatibility rate. Higher than most pairings."
"And what does that mean for any offspring?" Kalyndi asked, her expression guarded.
The woman's smile didn't reach her eyes. "It means any children would be of special interest to both our governments. Special plans have been discussed."
"What plans?" I demanded.
"That's classified information," the man said. "But rest assured, your contribution to our future would be appropriately recognized."
My skin crawled at his words. Children as experiments. As weapons, perhaps. This was exactly what I'd feared, what I'd argued against in council.
"We'll need a full physical examination of both of you," the woman continued. "And detailed accounts of your interactions."
"Not today," I growled, drawing myself up to my full height despite the pain. "My mate has patients to attend to. And I'm recovering from injuries sustained while completing your mission."
The officials exchanged glances.
"Very well," the woman said finally. "You have one week. Then we expect full compliance."
As they left, I caught Kalyndi's eye. The fear I saw there matched my own.
Night had fallen by the time we returned to our dwelling. It was a simple structure, allocated to us for our stay in the terramares. Previously, I'd slept outside, giving Kalyndi privacy inside an attempt at respecting her space despite our forced situation.
When I entered, intending only to check on her before finding a spot to rest under the stars, I stopped short. In the center of the room was a large pallet, big enough even for my frame, with clean blankets and what appeared to be healing herbs tucked into a sachet nearby.
Kalyndi stood by the small window, watching me. "Your wound needs monitoring," she said, as if that explained everything. "And it's going to rain tonight."
I approached the pallet carefully. "You didn't have to… "
"I know I didn't have to." She moved to a basin of water, washing her hands. "I chose to."
I sat on the pallet, feeling the strange tension between us. After today, after the officials' visit and their talk of "special plans," everything felt different.
"Thank you," I said finally. "Not just for this. For everything these past days. You saved my life."
She nodded, not quite meeting my eyes. "Rest. We have decisions to make in the morning."
As I lay down, feeling the comfort of a real bed for the first time in weeks, I realized this small gesture, this choice to share her space was more meaningful than any grand declaration. In a world where so much was forced upon us, she freely gave me this.
And somehow, that made all the difference.
Seven
Kalyndi
