Haven stills. Fear flutters across her eyes as she takes in our compromising position.
“Vale,” she says. “We shouldn’t ha?—”
“We will be married in two weeks,” I say. “I know I said we shouldn’t do this, but once the ceremony ends, we won’t have any reason to resist. Are you not tired of fighting it?”
Haven blinks in confusion.
“But you said this was a mistake,” she says. “Duty over love, remember?”
“Maybe I was wrong,” I admit.
Haven squeezes her eyes shut, clambering off my lap. I can tell she’s drawing away from me. She’s putting up her shields and hiding away in a place I can’t reach.
A knock sounds on the window, making us both jolt.
Knox waves.
“Don’t mind me,” he says loudly. “I have absolutely nothing better to do than wait for you both to climax.”
“Get lost,” I bark.
Haven reaches for the doorknob and races out, before I can stop her.
She drapes an arm over Knox’s shoulder.
“Perfect timing,” she says. “Let’s go meet this prisoner.”
The corridor narrows as we descend towards the containment cells. The air is colder down here. It smells like bleach and stale blood.
Haven sticks close by my side. I can feel her arm graze mine while Knox walks to my left. She’s been avoiding my gaze. I had to forcibly step between her and Knox, so she would have no choice but to acknowledge my existence.
I don’t understand why she is so frightened by the thought of giving this a chance. It is the logical solution for two people who will be legally married in a few days. At first, I wanted to have a marriage similar to that of my father and mother. One bound by obligation. My parents never bore any affection for each other. Their relationship was clinical and fake. The only time they were remotely interested in the other was during press campaigns when my father did his tours around the divisions. Then they would hold hands, and if my mother was feeling particularly theatric she would kiss his cheek.
I remember when I was young, I enjoyed all the public appearances, because it was the only time we felt like a family. My father would pat my head, and my mother would hold my hand, as if she could not bear to tear her eyes away from me for a second. They would show the world the love we so desperately lacked.
I thought that was normal. But I see now that it was nothing more than a façade. My father always said, ‘Duty over love’. But those words no longer carry the weight they once did.
I want something real.
“This place is giving me the creeps,” Haven murmurs.
“Same,” Knox says. “Can we hold your hand, Ender?”
Haven giggles.
I roll my eyes. They are so dumb.
The hallway is long and unending. Blanch egg-shell walls face us on either side. White panels sunk into the ceiling throw a pallid light across the space. Haven looks around as if an animal will leap out of one of the numbered doors and attack us.
I bend down to whisper in her ear.
“Youcan hold my hand, Warrick.”
She glances down at my palm before shaking her head.
“I’ll pass.”
A camera blinks above us. Watching our every move.
