Page 39 of Commander’s Mate

“Better than slave cake.”

“That is a low bar.”

“I’m keeping my expectations manageable.”

I took a packet because my hands needed something to do. The food was warm and faintly savory. I ate every bite.

Across the table, Kyanna turned a cup of water between her hands.

“Your father will be relieved,” I said.

“Yes.”

“You don’t sound relieved.”

“I am. But I do not know what he promised them. I do not know whether he asked for only me, or what will happen to everyone else.” Her gaze dropped. “Or whether my betrothed will consider me damaged by captivity.”

“Damaged?” Scarlet said sharply.

“I do not believe I am damaged. Politics often cares less what is true than what can be whispered.”

Scarlet leaned back. “Well, politics sucks in every galaxy, apparently.”

Kyanna frowned. “Sucks?”

“Is terrible,” I supplied.

“Ah. Then yes. Politics sucks.”

A few of us laughed, small and frayed.

The door opened.

Every laugh died.

A young Farseek soldier stood outside with his hands visible and empty. “Harper Avery?”

My heart slammed once.

Scarlet caught my wrist. “Why?”

“Commander Maktu requests to speak with her.”

“Requests,” Scarlet repeated. “Meaning she can say no?”

The soldier blinked as if the question surprised him. “Yes. No rescued person is under compulsion. Commander Maktu requests. He does not command.”

That was probably supposed to reassure me.

It did. A little.

Scarlet leaned closer. “You do not have to go.”

“I know.” I hoped I did. “But I want to know what he wants.”

“I think we know what he wants,” Scarlet muttered.

Heat climbed my face. “Scarlet.”