“Yes,” he said, but he didn’t meet my eyes and tried to feed me something else.
“Are there a lot of lords on your planet?”
“A few.” He pressed a piece of fruit to my lips.
I took it from him and tossed it onto the tray. “Kex, can you stop and explain this to me?”
He sighed and flopped back on the couch. He closed his eyes. “My grandfather passed a few months ago. I was off-world and didn’t get to say goodbye.” I pressed my hand to his chest and he put his hand over mine. “Rainair—we were in a war, fighting the occupation of a preflight planet against another empire led by an asshole. We won, but there were a lot of losses. Rainair and I worked our way up the ranks, and in the aftermath, we were in charge of restoring order. When I received word of my grandfather, I left him there, which is probably part of why he’s pissed.”
“He didn’t seem pissed to me, more like he needed you.”
“We relied heavily on each other, especially toward the end of the war. When my grandfather passed, his title and some other responsibilities passed to me.”
“So if you just got responsibility dumped on you, why were you hanging out in the deep forest?”
Kex grinned but didn’t open his eyes. “It’s so delightful to understand you at last, my mate. To be able to hear how insightful you are, how easily you can read me.”
I pinched his nipple, and he grunted. “That’s not an answer.”
He swallowed heavily. “My grandfather held a seat on the Imperial Senate. By our laws, that seat passes to me. I have a choice to accept it or reject it, in which case the seat goes to a planet-wide vote. I have six more months before I am forced to make a decision, and I retreated to Monai for a sojourn while I thought.”
I ran my hand slowly up and down his sternum. “And what was your decision?”
“I haven’t made one yet.”
I nodded. “Why don’t you want to take it?”
Kex sighed and seemed to deflate further. “The war was hard. Bloody and horrific. Terrestrial war is... difficult. And when we were finally done with it, we had to fight through the politics—lawmakers who wanted us to just leave and abandon the species whose world was thrown into anarchy, others who wanted us to stay because their world has resources that could be acquired if we provided aid. After all that, I just want peace.”
I turned until I straddled Kex. I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head against his chest. His arms came up, and he held me. “And why do you want to take it?” I asked, because it was obvious a part of him did, or he wouldn’t be so troubled.
“Because my grandfather was a great man and he taught me that one’s responsibility to the greater good was more importantthan oneself. Because this planet’s politics are fucked, and if it goes to a vote, the seat will likely pass to an ormonai, whose motivations would hurt the universe. The ormonai seat is powerful within the senate, it carries significant weight.”
“What’s ormonai?” I asked, pronouncing it badly. Kex chuckled. “I am ormonai, it’s my race. What are you?”
“Human,” I said. And he repeated it. The pattern took me back to the forest. The struggle of surviving with nothing. To me, it was stressful, the line between life and death very fine and easy to trip over. But to Kex, it was peace.
“What race is Rainair?”
“Braxx.”
“Hmmm. He reminds me of a cat.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a small, fluffy domesticated animal humans like to keep as pets. They are soft and purr when they are content.”
Kex snorted. “Please tell him that tomorrow.”
I grinned. “I used to have a pet cat. Now I guess my roommate will take care of him.” I swallowed hard, not wanting to cry and ruin the moment. I’d known I probably wouldn’t make it back to Earth, but having it confirmed hurt. Never seeing Bennet again hurt. “There’s no going back to my planet, is there?”
Kex held me tighter. “No. It’s illegal. Now that you have an understanding of the wider universe, if you returned, you would be considered disrupting the sanctity of a preflight planet.” He went quiet for a long moment. “If you could, would you want to?”
A sudden spike of possessiveness tore through me, and I turned my head into him and bit his pec through his shirt. “No, but I’m sure some of the other women will ask.” I sighed and rested my head back down. “If there was a chance to return just to get my cat, I would.”
“What about your family?”
“They died. I never knew my father, but my mom passed away a few years ago. Her parents were old and died when I was young. I have a brother, but we haven’t spoken in a few years.” He squeezed me. “What about your parents? The seat didn’t pass to one of them?”
