The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped my attention back to the moment and I looked up.
Memories of Prince Adrian paled in comparison to the young man in front of me now. His straight black hair was about chin length and was brushed back from the young man’s face. His skin was almost a translucent white, but it was his eyes that arrested my gaze: they were a beautiful emerald green. The green was warm, like sunlight in the forest, with glints of gold flashing in them. He looked confused as he examined me, crouched in the corner of the hall in obvious terror, but the expected judgment for my situation was absent. His gaze held only concern.
The color of his eyes reminded me of the moss that grew beside a stream that ran near the Summer Palace. It had been one of my favorite places to escape during the heat of summer. I’d once seen the young fox in the palace garden, and that fox had had eyes the same shade of green and gold.
I must look like a fool, I realized. Feeling like an idiot, sweating and crouched in the hallway as though I had been chased there by the hounds of hell merely because I was scared of people. Shame and an overwhelming sense of worthlessness struck at me, making me wish I was anywhere but here.
“Hi,” the young man said, waving his hand slightly, his voice oddly accented.
“H-hi,” I responded, dashing tears from me eyes. I was discombobulated by his appearance from nowhere, so I said the first thing that came into his head.
“You have beautiful eyes,” I blurted out.
“Thanks,” the young man said, smiling suddenly, the light catching the blue-black highlights in his hair. He was lean and muscled in all the right places and was wearing the uniform of the Illyrian army.
“Are you lost?” The young man asked, pointing at me, then his hands sweeping out in some kind of movement.
“Sorta,” I responded, gesturing toward the man’s uniform. “You’re a Soma?”
The young man grinned wryly, his fingers flowing into a fist and flashing down.
“Sorta,” he said, his voice oddly accented. “You’re adiasothike, right? One of the rescued Mageians?”
This time he pointed at me, his hands making a movement like they were pulling something between them. His movements were fluid and graceful and seemed to carry more import than just emphasizing his words.
I nodded in response to his question.
“Would you like some company?” He asked, again pointing at me, then his fingers formed an odd pointing gesture, the pointer and little finger extended as he took his hand across his chest, then held his right hand up into the form of a letter c.
I nodded again, fascinated by his movements. They tickled something in the back of my brain. Something I had read or seen somewhere. Something to do with scribes...
“S-sure,” I responded absently, trying to recall where I had seen the movements before.
The man settled himself against the wall opposite me. I couldn’t help but appreciate how his muscles moved and flexed as he settled himself. The neck of his uniform left a small square of skin at his Adam’s apple bare. The sudden urge to touch him had me clenching my fists to keep from reaching out. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Are you okay?” the young man asked, his eyes strangely intent as they remained glued to my face.
I rested my head on my knees as I realized with growing humiliation that my body was responding to this handsome stranger.Shit. It hadn’t responded to anyone like this since Adrian. My years in the Legion had left me so terrified that I hadn’t had time to really pursue a physical relationship with anyone. Plus, Elex, right? He was a little overprotective. But now here I was, and it was just like Adrian all over again. Except… I realized, suddenly, that I had no desire to flee. In fact, the panic that had overtaken me in the auditorium was completely gone.
I took a tentative breath, realizing that my breathlessness had disappeared as well.
“Yeah,” I said, surprise tinging my voice. Iwasokay. I was breathing normally, the fear seemingly evaporated. I didn’t want to flee from this man. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to stay right where I was.
“Yeah, I am, thanks,” I said in wonder.
“They’re a little overwhelming at first,” the man said, his hands continuing the fluid movements. “The Touchpoints, I mean. I guess they’d be especially overwhelming from the point of view of a new Mageia. I’m getting to the point where I hate them.”
“Why?” I asked, suddenly curious.
“A man can only take rejection so many times before it begins to feel personal,” he said. He smiled conspiratorially at Luke as he spoke, but his smile had a touch of sadness and, maybe, alittlebitterness? But the overarching feeling from him seemed to be one of…longing.
I thought for a moment about how the hundreds of Somas in that room who weren’t selected must have felt. There were onlysixtyMageians on the stage. I quickly calculated the odds of one of the Somas in the room finding a match in one of the Mageia we had brought, and I began to gain a sense of the desperation the Illyrians must feel.
“Were you at this Touchpoint?” I asked. The young man’s eyes never left my face as I spoke.
“The Touchpoint? Yeah, I was responsible for escorting the unmatched Mageia,” he said, looking away, a strange sadness seeming to overtake him. “Seems like I wasn’t needed today.”
“How many have you attended?” I asked, mentally calculating the likely ratio of Mageia to Soma in the country.
