“But not why we’re doing it in the first place.” It was a statement, not a question, and to avoid saying the wrong thing, I chose not to reply.
“May I ask you a question?” Bryce said, after nibbling on one of his miniature sandwiches.
“Of course.” I hadn’t eaten anything yet, but I swiftly took a mouthful, seeing that Bryce was eating. My master hadn’t explicitly told me to eat, but the fact that he’d handed me a plate of food implied that I should.
“Different dimari have different specialisations, right?” My master chose that moment to join us again, and Bryce shot him a smile that wasn’t quite asmile. I glanced between them, not quite sure what the expression meant. “You’re a combat specialist. I did a little research in the last few days, and it seems you also have domestic servants, domestic companions, erotic companions, and a variety of specialist trades – pilot, for example, or electrician. So my question is, how do the Eumadians decide how they’re going to train each dimari? Do they just randomly assign you a skill to learn, or is it more complex than that?”
“We begin training for a specialty around the age of fifteen,” I explained. “Up until then, the trainers watch us closely to see if we have any particular aptitudes. Someone with good spatial awareness might be trained as a pilot. Someone with an ear for music might become an entertainer. If the dimari takes to the training well, they continue with that speciality. If it turns out they’re not so good at the thing they were assigned, they’re either given something else to learn, or just trained as a domestic servant.”
“And what about you? What sort of aptitude says someone should be trained for combat?”
I felt a small glow of pleasure as I remembered the comments my trainers had made throughout my childhood, and the day they’d informed me as to what my specialty would be. “I enjoyed taking risks,” I said, feeling a flush of embarrassment. I had been equal parts praised and reprimanded for my sometimes reckless behaviour. “I was always the kid who wanted to climb the tree, or jump off the cliff into the lake. I never made much of a fuss if I got hurt in the process. I pulled a few pranks on the other children, sneaking up on them or hiding their tools. I suppose the trainers thought they may as well use that desire for adventure to do something useful.”
“And did you enjoy the training?”
“I did,” I said, warmth in my voice. “It was invigorating. I was very proud of the skills I learned.”
“Hmm. That’s very interesting. Thank you.” Bryce glanced at my master again… and I was rather surprised to see my master’s expression. He was scowling at Bryce, with a look that was a mixture of bafflement and irritation.
“Kade,” my master said, his tone just a little sharp. “Could you go and get me a drink of water please? I just need to talk to Bryce for a minute.”
“Yes, sir,” I said obediently. I trotted off to fetch the drink, pleased to have received my first real order since I’d been told to get dressed that morning.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Aiden
By the time we walked back through my front door, I was exhausted. The funeral itself had taken a couple of hours, and then the reception afterwards had dragged on into the afternoon. Military events were always hard to judge, but it was generally considered rude to leave before a handful of the senior officers had left. Given that this had been a funeral for not just one, but two soldiers, that had taken longer than usual. Now, at about three o’clock in the afternoon, my dress uniform was making me hot, and I shrugged off the jacket the instant I was through the door.
Kade reverted to his natural blue as soon as the door was closed. I’d finally managed to have a conversation with him about that yesterday, telling him he could be blue at home, or in his room at the base, but when out in public, he should stick to brown. It was a combination of concern that certain people might give him a hard time, if they figured out he was a dimari, and a concession to his apparent preference for not standing out too much.
I wanted to get changed, put on some sweatpants, and watch the sports channel for the rest of the afternoon. The day had been an emotional rollercoaster, not just with the funeral itself, saying goodbye to two colleagues whose deaths I had been partially responsible for, but also with Kade’s surprise revelations about his childhood, and the apparent ease with which Bryce had got him talking. He’d learned more about Kade in five minutes than I had in a whole week. I hadn’t decided whether I wanted to resent Bryce or berate myself for that particular detail.
But despite my desire to shrug off the burdens of the day, the bedroom seemed too far away, and I sank down on the couch, dropping my jacket on the arm, not even bothering to take off my shoes. I let my head fall back and closed my eyes. Based on one afternoon of conversation and our chat over coffee the other day, I’d come to the conclusion that Bryce wouldhave made a far better master for Kade than I ever would. I hadn’t even made Commander yet, and there were rumours of Bryce being promoted to Major sometime in the new year.
I listened to the sounds of Kade moving about the house, removing his shoes, padding down the hall to the bedroom, then returning a few minutes later, the rustle of his clothing distinctly softer now. He paused in the middle of the living room, and I could feel him watching me. God, was I going to have to explain my current mood as well? Was it too much to ask for him to just leave me alone to grieve for thirty seconds?
I was considering how much of an asshole I would be if I just ignored him, but then he moved and I felt a gentle hand on my left calf muscle. I felt a light pressure over the top of my foot – was he undoing my laces? – and then he lifted my foot slightly, sliding my shoe off. What the fuck? He repeated the motion with my other foot, then I felt the hat that was still in my hand being plucked from my fingers. He disappeared down the hall again, and from the sounds, I assumed he’d taken my jacket with him as well.
He was back a minute later. “Sir?” he said, his voice gentle. “Would you like to get changed?”
I cracked my eyes open, seeing him standing there with a t-shirt and sweatpants in his hands, and I couldn’t help but smile. Was he a fucking mind reader now?
“Yeah, but…” I made an effort to sit up. “I’ll come into the bedroom.” There was a good chance I was going to collapse, and the bed would be more comfortable than the sofa.
Kade offered me a hand and pulled me up when I took it. He followed me down the hall, catching my shirt as I tossed it off my shoulders and handing me the t-shirt. The pants followed suit, and then I did collapse, landing hard on the mattress, as he tidied the room and put the clothes away.
He sat down on the bed beside me. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, looking concerned. “Saying goodbye is not easy.”
Holy fuck, when had he developed that calm, soothing tone? What had happened to the frazzled dimari from earlier in the week, who’d panicked when I’d asked him what type of sandwich he wanted? What the fuck was going on here?
I thought about telling him no, but instead, I found myself saying, “Lie down with me? I just… don’t want to be alone right now.”
He nodded and snuggled up beside me, tugging me over so that my head rested on his shoulder. I was developing a habit of curling up against him when I woke up in the morning, and he’d apparently noticed. He ran his fingers lightly through my hair, his other arm curled around my shoulders.
“It could have been me, you know,” I said at length. “It could have been my funeral today. Do you know why it wasn’t?” I didn’t expect a reply from him, so I kept on talking. “I saw a blue fresis flower when we were approaching the cargo module. I’d never seen a blue one before. They’re usually all pink. So I stopped to take a look. Bent down. Poked at it a bit. I’d barely had time to stand up, and then… Boom. The two of them just… dead. And it would have been me, if not for a fucking flower.”
“Do you wish it had been you?” he asked cautiously, and the question surprised me. Not because it was particularly morbid, but rather, it seemed unusually insightful for my baffling dimari.
