“My–” She looked away from him, lip quivering as she brought trembling fingers to brush her throat, remembering the feel of large hands squeezing as she choked. The events of that night were burned into her mind like a branding iron.
“Zev?”
She let out a shuddering breath, the memories scattering away. “My husband.”
She glanced at the Captain again, who didn’t move or even blink an eye before he sputtered,“Y—you’re married?” and pushed up from the chair he was sitting in to pace the small perimeter of the room. “To whom?” he finally asked, pausing his stride.
“To Lord Tarkiin Asharr of the Emperor's Peregrine Council.”
The Captain’s eyes went wide and he swayed, grabbing onto the back of the chair to steady himself, “Y—you killed Tarkiin?”
Kamira raised a brow at the way he said Tarkiin’s name, as if he had known the man personally. As if they had been close enough for the Captain not to call him Lord.
The Captain sat down with a heavy thud into the chair once again, slouching as he crossed one arm over his broad chest, bringing the opposite hand over his mouth, and let his head fall back to rest on the back of the chair. “So you are fleeing for the murder of your husband, who just so happens to be one of the Emperor’s most trusted advisors, the head of house Asharr, and the fifth most powerful man in the Kingdom? Did I get all of that right?”
“Yes.” She wanted to tell him why. She wanted him to know that it was in self-defense and not out of malicious intent, but she supposed it didn’t matter. She had killed him nonetheless and she wasn’t sure how to even voice the reason why. The words were stuck in her throat like thick honey, unmoving.
“Why?” he questioned.
She thought about that for a long moment before saying with a shrug of her shoulders, “It was either him or me.” It was the only thing that felt right to say, and it wasn’t a lie. It really had been her life or his. She didn't have the courage to tell the full story just yet. Not with it still so fresh.
Kamira waited for more questions, for him to yell at her, or take her up to the bridge and punish her with some awful task. She wouldn’t fault him for it—she was a fugitive hiding out on his ship and had put all their lives at risk.
She was taken aback when he burst out into a chorus of boisterous laughter. It was so out of place and uncharacteristic that she couldn’t help but chuckle in return, instantly regretting it when pain shot through her torso. Her humor quickly turned into a series of agonizing coughs.
“Don’t laugh,” he said, wiping away the tears that had pooled in his eyes. “You’ll tear your stitches.” He stared at her with an odd look and then shook his head, a smile spreading across his lips. “Well, Ze…actually I haven’t even bothered to ask, what is your name? I take it Zev isn’t your real one.”
She smirked, shaking her head. “It’s Kamira.”
“Nice to meet the real you, Kamira. You can call me Doraan.”
She nodded, her smile stretching a little further.
“Well, someone was bound to kill that fat, pompous bastard one day. He had it coming to him.”
Kamira almost choked on her own saliva. “Y—y—you know him?” she stuttered. “I find it hard to believe a pirate would know Lord Tarkiin outside of the gallows.”
“I didn’t say it was a friendly acquaintance,” he said with a wink. “I didn’t need to know him for long to realize he was a clod of a man. I don’t blame you for killing him.”
“It was an accident,” she whispered. She couldn’t bear anyone thinking of her as a careless murderer who went around killing men for sport.
He was quiet before turning his large light-brown eyes on her, “Can I ask what happened? Why did it come down to the survival of either you or him?”
She looked away, suddenly feeling cold and far too exposed. She pulled the sheets up over her head, covering herself completely, “Another time, maybe.”
“Fair enough,” he offered.
She brought the sheet back down to reveal her eyes, watching as a small smile quirked on the Captain's mouth.
He cast his gaze down toward his feet then, the smile fading from his face. A long silence stretched between them, and she could see the cogs of his mind churning with whatever he wanted to ask her.
When he finally looked at her, she didn’t expect him to say, “I have a favor to ask of you.”
She furrowed her brows, bringing her full face out from behind the sheet. “A favor?”
“Yes.”
Why did he look so damn serious all of the sudden? She almost preferred the scowl. “What sort of favor?” she asked hesitantly.
