“You’re lucky,” she said softly. There was a wistfulness in her voice that cut at something in my chest. “To come out of something so terrible and still be…happy. Balanced. Not lost in trauma.”
“I am lucky,” I agreed. “But it’s not just luck. My people support each other. We share our burdens, process our pain together. And our Solas are safe, warm places to live. All needs are met. Everyone is respected. It’s easier to heal when you’re surrounded by people who care about you.”
She looked down at her bowl, now nearly empty. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
The words were quiet, almost inaudible, and I don’t think she meant for me to hear them. But I did. And they broke something in me, even as they strengthened my resolve.
This female had never known safety. Never known unconditional support. Never known what it felt like to be surrounded by people who cared about her wellbeing rather than her usefulness. She had been shaped into a weapon and deployed without regard for the person inside.
I wanted to change that. Wanted to show her what it felt like to be valued for who she was, not what she could do.
We finished our meal after chatting more. I’d changed the subject to lighter things, and watched her relax and even smile.
“This was nice,” she said, surprising me. “The food. The…” She gestured vaguely. “All of it.”
“We can do this anytime. Standing invitation.”
“I might take you up on that.”
“Good.” I smiled at her, and my skin shifted to pleasant shades of gold. There were times when I wished my Destran skin didn’t reveal how I felt, and times when I actively worked to keep my colors neutral, to varying success. But this time, I wanted her to see that she affected me, that her presence made me happy.
She noticed. Of course she noticed. Her gaze tracked over my forearms where the colors were most visible, and something in her expression softened just slightly.
We left the communal hall and stepped into the cool evening air. The sky had darkened, stars beginning to emerge overhead in numbers I still found breathtaking. On the Solas, we rarely saw stars like this. The living ships had viewports, of course, but there was something different about standing on solid ground and looking up at an infinite expanse of light.
“I’ll walk you back to your quarters,” I said.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
The path was lit by bioluminescent panels that gave off a soft blue glow. Our arms brushed occasionally as we walked, and I was hyperaware of every accidental point of contact. We walked in silence through the winding streets, past buildings that hadgone quiet for the night, past guard posts where D’tran sentries nodded as we passed. The guest quarters came into view ahead, the stone structure where Iris and the diplomats had been assigned rooms.
She stopped before we reached the door. “This was nice.”
“It was.” I meant it. “We make a good team, you know.”
“As cultural liaison and operative?”
“As whatever we are.” I held her gaze, letting her see my sincerity. “I’m glad you’re here, Iris. Even if the circumstances aren’t ideal.”
“Thank you,” she replied, except I sensed a big but about to be dropped on me.
“But I should warn you I’m not relationship material.” Her voice was careful, measured. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”
I turned to face her. “What makes you say that?”
“Soft feelings have been trained out of me.” She met my eyes, her gaze steady but somehow fragile underneath. “There’s no room for anything but duty. I don’t know how to be what you’d need me to be.”
I considered her words carefully before responding. “And how would you know what I’d need you to be?”
She blinked, thrown off balance by the question. “You’d want a warm partner who likes to cuddle. You look like a cuddler.”
She wasn’t wrong about that. Nothing wrong with cuddling.
“And you’d want offspring,” she went on. “Or whatever you call them. And you’d want someone open and free and…” She swirled her hand, searching for a word. “Emotionally available.”
My lips wanted to smile at her earnestness, but I kept my face sober. “And you’re not those things?”
She nodded. Firmly. “Not at all.”
