I turned back to Cleo, who was listening to Korin asking her something about the system’s maintenance.
“Lord Rezor.” Vax’s voice was low, meant only for me. “Shall I have the guards return her to the guest quarters?”
“Wait.” I kept my eyes on Cleo, who was now demonstrating something to Korin using hand gestures and quick sketches in the dust on the floor. “Maintain surveillance. But with less hostility.”
“As you command.”
Cleo finished her explanation and stood, brushing dust from her knees. When she looked up and caught me watching, her expression shifted to something I couldn’t quite read. Not exactly pleased, but not displeased either. Cautious, maybe. Curious.
“Thank you,” I said, moving closer. Close enough that my marks began to glow faintly beneath my shirt. “You’ve done us a great service.”
“No problem,” she said, but there was something softer in her voice now. “I have to admit, it felt good to actually be useful instead of just…sitting around waiting.”
“You don’t do well with inactivity?”
“Not even a little bit.” She smiled, small but genuine. “I like solving problems. Fixing things. Making systems work better. It’s what I’m good at.”
“You’re very good at it.” The words came out warmer than I’d intended. More personal. My marks pulsed in agreement, and from the way her eyes flicked to my chest, she noticed.
For a moment, we just stood there, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, close enough that the heat from my marks made the air between us feel charged.
Then Korin cleared his throat pointedly, and the moment broke.
“We should let everyone get back to work,” Cleo said, stepping back. The loss of proximity made my marks protest. “But if you need me to check the other systems, I’m happy to help.”
“I’ll send for you tomorrow,” I said. “If you’re willing.”
“I’m willing.” She looked at the repaired system, at Korin, who was still examining her work with obvious admiration, and at the steady flow of clean water. “Everyone needs clean water.”
She left with the guards, and I was left standing in the purification station with the sound of running water and the memory of how her eyes had looked when she’d smiled at me.
Vax moved to stand beside me. “The system works perfectly. She could have sabotaged it. She didn’t.”
“No,” I agreed. “She didn’t.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous.”
I thought about the way Cleo had rolled her eyes at Zelana’s prophecy talk. The way she’d explained complex technology with patience and clarity. The way she’d looked genuinely happy to be useful, to contribute something positive instead of just being a source of fear and disruption.
“No,” I said quietly. “It doesn’t mean that at all.”
But as I left the station and returned to my duties, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the real danger wasn’t what Cleo might do to my village. It was what she was already doing tome.
CHAPTER 7
Cleo
Three days after fixing the water purification system, I’d settled into something that almost resembled a routine.
Mornings were spent with Korin and the other engineers, checking systems and teaching them diagnostic techniques that would help them understand their salvaged technology better. Afternoons, I explored the village, always within the walls, always shadowed by guards who maintained a respectful distance but never quite let me out of sight. Evenings, I returned to our quarters to share meals with Baleck and Mierva, comparing notes on what we’d learned about D’tran culture and survival.
It should have felt like captivity. In some ways, it still did. But in others, it felt like being useful again. Like contributing something meaningful instead of just existing as a problem to be solved.
And through it all, I felt Rezor watching me.
Not constantly. Not even frequently. But enough that I’d catch glimpses of him at the edge of a plaza, or standing in a doorway, his eyes tracking my movements before he turned away. We rarely spoke unless circumstances forced us into close proximity, which wasn’t often. He seemed to be making a point of maintaining distance, of staying just out of reach.
I didn’t like it.
