I round the corner and nearly walk straight into D'Vorak.
He steps back, surprised, and for a moment we stare at each other. Then his expression shifts into that particular blend of determination and entitlement that sets my teeth on edge.
"A'Vanti." He straightens, squaring those broad shoulders as if preparing for battle. "I've been wanting to speak with you."
"D'Vorak." I keep my voice even. "I'm on my way somewhere."
"This won't take long." He reaches into his belt pouch, and my stomach sinks as he produces another val'ari, different from the last one. This piece is more elaborate, set with pale blue stones instead of amber. He has been shopping. "I wanted to apologize for the way our last conversation ended. I was too forward. I should have been more patient."
I study the hair ornament in his outstretched hand, then look up at him. He means it. The apology is genuine, which makes this harder, but not hard enough to change my answer.
"D'Vorak." I push the val'ari gently back toward him, closing his fingers around it. "I appreciate the apology. Truly. But I need you to hear what I'm about to say, and I need you to hear it as final."
His jaw tightens, but he doesn't interrupt.
"I am not going to be your mate. Not now, and not ever. This is not about timing or patience or a more expensive gift. It is about the fact that I do not feel for you what a mate should feel, and no amount of courtship will change that." I hold his gaze, keeping my voice steady and clear. Not cold. Not cruel. Just certain. "You deserve someone who chooses you with her whole heart. That person is not me."
The silence between us stretches. I watch the emotions move through his expression – frustration, hurt, the wounded pride of a warrior unaccustomed to rejection. His hand closes around the gift until his knuckles go pale beneath his scales.
"Is it the human?" he asks, and there is no disdain in the question this time. Only a quiet resignation.
I consider deflecting. But Dr. Singh's words from today's session echo in my mind – about honesty, about owning the life I'm building instead of hiding behind walls.
"My reasons are my own," I say. "But I will tell you this much: when I take a mate, it will be someone I have chosen freely. Someone who knows me. Who has earned my trust and my affection through patience and kindness, not through obligation." I soften my voice slightly. "Go find someone who lights up when she sees you, D'Vorak. You will be happier for it."
He stands very still for a long moment. Then his posture shifts, not quite into acceptance, but the beginning of it. The rigid set of his shoulders loosens by a fraction.
"You are… certain," he says. It is not a question.
"Completely."
He nods once. Tucks the val'ari back into his pouch. When he meets my eyes again, the entitlement is gone. What remains is a male who wanted something he cannot have, and is coming to terms with it.
"Then I wish you well, A'Vanti." His voice is rough but sincere. "Whoever you choose… I hope he is worthy of you."
"Thank you, D'Vorak."
He inclines his head, a gesture of respect I did not expect from him, and turns to walk away. His footsteps are slower than usual. Heavier. I watch until he disappears around the corner, and I feel the tension ease inside me. I am not filled with triumph. Or relief. But at least the matter is settled, and I can let it go.
I resume my walk toward the hangar, lighter than before.
My hand drifts to the pocket of my robe, fingers brushing the small object nestled there. I programmed the replicator myself, feeding in specifications until the machine produced something close to what I envisioned, a tiny carving, small enough to fit in a closed fist.
The route to the hangar bay takes me through sections of the ship I don't often frequent. The corridors here are wider, designed to accommodate the movement of equipment and large groups of personnel. I pass maintenance crews and off-duty soldiers, nodding in greeting when appropriate but not stopping to converse.
Eventually, I walk past a wide observation window. The view makes me pause.
Earth hangs in the void before me, vast and beautiful. Blue and green dominate its surface, the deep sapphire of oceans that seem to stretch forever, the verdant swaths of vegetation covering entire continents. White clouds spiral across its face indelicate patterns, and even from here, I can see the glittering lights of human cities on the dark side of the planet.
It's so different from Ceraste.
My homeworld is all browns and golds. It is endless stretches of sand that shimmer like precious metal under our suns. Our oceans are small, precious things clustered around the polar caps, nothing like the vast blue expanses that dominate this world. Our cities rose from the desert like monuments to our resilience, all curved lines and golden stone and architecture designed to withstand the harsh beauty of our environment.
Or they did, once.
I wonder what I'll find when we arrive. What remains of the world I knew.
I pull myself away from the window and continue toward the hangar.
