“I liked it when you told me about how you got your powers,” she whispers. “I felt like I knew you better.”
“I never told anyone that,” I admit.
“I was afraid, too.” She yawns. “Powers are scary.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“The day I was tested,” she says. “My mother was so worried.”
Oh, she means the testing. Most people are afraid of discovering they have powers. One’s life can change in the blink of an eye. Despite the Gifted believing there is nothing better than having powers, some people fear it.
“I’m surprised you and your sister are not Gifted. Your father is a Kinetic,” I say. “Powers are more likely when the mother and father are both Gifted, but there is a twenty-five percent chance if one parent is Gifted.”
“Would you like me more if I were Gifted?” Haven asks. “Everyone says I am weak, that I am undeserving of being in Black Star.”
“You are the strongest person I know, Warrick,” I say. “And I’ve trained alongside some of the Continent’s best. Powers don’t determine your grit and strength, practice and a willingness to show up every day do.”
“You never answered my question,” she says. “Would you like me more?”
I hesitate, and the words sit heavy on my tongue. A truth I never processed myself slips out of my mouth before I can swallow it.
“I can’t imagine liking you any more than this,” I confess.
I fear and desire her in equal measure.
Haven smiles, and the weight on my chest loosens. Her reaction makes me feel better about my answer.
I’m not certain if she’ll remember this tomorrow or if my words will stick with her. But for now, it comforts her. I said the right thing for once. I didn’t upset her.
She settles under the sheets, a yawn stretching her lips.
“Sleep,” I command.
“So bossy,” she mumbles.
And then she’s sound asleep, following my orders even when she doesn’t want to.
My perfect little soldier.
Mercy is pacing by my bedroom when I slip out of Haven’s arm.
“Ender,” she says, relieved. “Can we talk?”
“You will address me as Commandant or sir,” I say. “You don’t have my permission to use my first name.”
“But why?” Mercy asks, confused. “We’re family. You’re engaged to my sister.”
“Because I said so.”
“Fine, sir,” she says, slowly, as if the title is a waste of her time. “Is Haven okay?
“She’s fine,” I say. “You may speak to her when she wakes up.”
Her eyes brighten.
“She’s here?”
I came out to tell the housekeeper to set an extra placemat for breakfast.
