When she glanced up at Mace, he touched his vambrace without looking at her. Her wrists snapped together.
Blast, she hated that.
With one last glance at Dee and the disbelief underlaying her expression, Mace followed Nia out, but kept his distance. His ward kept walking until she overlooked the common space of the atrium. A strange sensation rolled through his gut at seeing her out of her uniform.
She leaned over the railing, the fabric of her new shirt stretching over her shoulders. Mace nodded to a warrior under his command who walked past, before taking a breath and closing the gap between them.
He leaned forward to see what Nia was seeing. If he concentrated on the people below, then maybe he wouldn’t stare at her. Her uniform had been formless and unflattering. This new top and leggings were anything but.
Straightening, he strangled the railing like it was his own neck, then cleared his throat. “You’ve been placed in a medical bay.”
She stiffened and shot him a side-glance. “To work at.” Her tone flat, she refocused on the people sitting around tables below.
“To work at,” he agreed.
A breath shuddered through her. “And if I refuse?”
“Then you can’t earn any creds.” He couldn’t force her to work.
“And I could earn enough creds to buy my way off this place?” Bitterness coated her words.
If only.“It doesn’t work that way,” he replied.
Nia narrowed her eyes at him. “Then tell me how it works.”
How could he even begin to explain the intricacies of the processing system centuries in the making? So convoluted, laws within law, especially for new captives. The old laws he’d invoked to keep her with him were barbaric—and that was a kind word for them.
At his silence, she returned to watching the crowd below. “When would I start?”
“Now, if you like. You’ve been placed in a bay manned with medics only, no doctors. We currently have a shortage.”
“And that explains why your farming pods were attached toElara Five.” She spoke between gritted teeth.
“Yes.” There was no disputing it. Every warrior who took captives would earn a percentage of their income—an incentive that needed to be abolished and one he’d waived.
“But it doesn’t explain its destruction.” This time her voice had gone soft.
His chest squeezed. Cache had sent the raid to rescue him. It was Mace’s fault her people died.
A sharp beep emitted from his vambrace, distracting him form the weakness of his guilt. Cache’s command insignia flashed at the top of the communique. He swiped the message away, not wanting to rush Nia through her decision.
She took a deep breath and stood straighter to meet his eyes. “I will work.”
Unwarranted pride swelled in his chest at her determined expression. She might be tiny, but there was fire inside her. It would have been easy for her to stay in his quarters and give up. But her spirit wouldn’t be quelled—perhaps one of the reasons he hadn’t been able to leave her onElara Fiveto die.
Mace pushed away from the railing, muscles rigid. “This way,” he said, cocking his head toward the lift.
The medical bay was located towards the docking bay where they’d arrived. Nia buried her disappointment. It would have been nice to be close to the welcoming light of the atrium.
Stopping in front of the door, she read the words printed in Common below a script she couldn’t read. She stiffened. “Family medicine?” She met Mace’s gaze.
A frown pinched his brows. “Is there a problem?”
Nia closed her eyes briefly. Her family medicine rotation at the Lunar Medical Academy had been the longest of her entire medical training process, rivaled only by her stint in pediatrics. She didn’t understand young people, was always awkward around them, and had been relieved when she’d completed that chapter of her life. Children smelled funny and had sticky fingers.
“I’m a surgeon,” she said, voice hoarse. “Post me where my skills are useful.” She tugged against her bonds, stepping aside when someone needed to pass them in the corridor. “How do you know I won’t hurt someone in there?” This was beyond ridiculous.
“Will you?”
