by Mara Gan
“Are you alright, little one?” Perseus murmured. “You’re trembling.”
I didn’t doubt I was. Watching him fight, even if he was clearly the best fighter in the entire universe, was unsettling. I pressed myself close to him, gripping his shirt tightly. “I’m fine,” I murmured. “Just relieved.” He pressed a kiss to my hair, holding me close.
“You shouldn’t have worried, Princess,” Yalan said, examining his nails. “There was never any real danger to Perseus.”
I was confused. “But Kenzi—I thought he killed you!”
Yalan shrugged. “Kenzi was extremely good at what he did,” he agreed, “but beating me is hardly a comparison for going up against your Protector.”
I glanced up at Perseus. “Are you really that much better?”
Yalan cut in before Perseus could answer. “Princess, no one is as good as your Protector. But even so, Perseus asked me to help you for a reason.”
“Yalan, like all Velurians, is hard to kill,” Perseus explained, resuming his walk toward the infirmary as Yalan and Kos followed casually. “His body is very quick to mend itself. It goes into a sort of hibernation, giving the appearance of death, in order to heal the wounds. Short of a beheading, Velurians only die of old age. Has Rania never been injured before?”
I shook my head. “I’ve not seen anything like this.”
Yalan shrugged, moving with us. “It isn’t something we choose to share with outsiders,” he said. “Escaping nasty situations is easier if people think you’re already dead.”
Perseus continued. “I initially hated your idea to use you as bait, but I figured I could at least call in some backup for it. So I asked Yalan to guard you as added insurance. What no one, except Gi and myself, knows is that Yalan used to be part of the Velurian Elite.”
My mouth dropped. “What?”
My Protector smiled. “The Elite. One of the best fighting forces in the galaxy.” He glanced down at me. “Now you know why I wanted him in the Protectorate so much. While he doesn’t like sharing that little fact, and he can’t seem to refrain from his mercenary habits, Yalan knows how to fight.”
I eyed Yalan. “Thank you,” I said softly.
His gaze bored into mine. “Now we’re even.”
I stifled a laugh. “Such a mercenary,” I said, leaning my head against my Protector’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re alive and well.”
“When Kenzi attacked me, I knew I couldn’t win.” Yalan shrugged. “He was good to begin with, but Perseus’s training is legendary and it’s been a while for me. I fought him, did my best to delay or stop him, but I knew it was useless. The best I could do was play dead and hope I managed to undo whatever he was planning.” He touched his burned face, scowling. “Little did I know it was quite so drastic.”
I grimaced. “Ahh… about that. Kenzi wasn’t the one who blew up my apartment.”
All eyes swung to me. “What?” Perseus asked, concern touching his face. “Who did, then?”
“I did.” I rubbed my eyes. “I thought Yalan was dead, and Kenzi was going to drag me off to god knows where, so I grabbed the blaster in my kitchen, locked it, hit the switch, and threw it at Kenzi.”
Yalan’s face showed only admiration, but Perseus’s fingers tightened on me.
“Reckless and innovative,” Kos murmured, giving me a smile. “Kenzi clearly underestimated you.”
“Part of you never trusted Kenzi, did you?” I asked Perseus.
He shook his head, looking perturbed. “No.”
“That must be your precognitive abilities kicking in.”
Perseus shrugged. “Maybe. But there was always… just something off about him.” He gave me a rueful smile. “And I’ve never been good at trusting people anyway.”
I supposed I should have known that Kenzi had no chance against my Protector. I had, after all, personally watched Perseus decimate a crowd of around twenty soldiers. But I was exhausted and more than a little overwhelmed, so I had an excuse for doubting his abilities.
And rational thought was difficult to apply when the one you loved was locked in combat.
“So you really never were in any danger,” I said, this simple fact seeming obvious to me now. I couldn’t help it; I was a worrywart at heart.
Perseus smiled down at me, kissing my forehead. “No, sweetheart. Now, no more questions. We need to get you to the infirmary.”
I groaned. “For once, I don’t think I will argue with you.”
My Protector shook his head. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
Kos and Yalan were talking in hushed tones behind us, but I was too tired to listen. I just wanted to sleep. I hurt, but I was mostly just painfully exhausted; everything felt so heavy, and staying awake was becoming increasingly difficult. I tried to force my eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of being with Perseus, but I was quickly losing that battle.
I managed to stay awake until we got to the infirmary. I could hear the mayhem around us, the chaos of a city that had just experienced a bombing, and the worried and confused thoughts of thousands of people, but for once it wasn’t bothering me. The buffer I always felt around Perseus was muffling much of the noise, and I was too tired to care anyway.
A medical team met us outside with a portable bed and I felt myself set gently on it. Perseus held my hand and walked with us as the medics examined me and asked him questions.
“Princess,” one of the medics said, looming over me. “I have your standard sedative here, courtesy of Dr. Remy. You should be asleep in a matter of minutes.”
Ah, my standard sedative. It was a mix of healers, painkillers, and a sedative strong enough to knock me out. Dr. Remy had devised it just for me after all my sports injuries.
But the medic was wrong about one thing. He said it would be a matter of minutes. In reality, I wonder if I wasn’t asleep before the needle even hit my skin.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
“He still won’t come see me?” I asked, pulling at a thread on the blanket.
Synie looked troubled. “I’m sorry, Princess. Perseus is refusing to leave his apartments. Kos has tried to speak to him on a few occasions with no luck.”
I sank back against the pillows feeling forlorn. It had been three days since the attack that had put me in this hospital bed; three days since I had died, come back to life, and realized my Protector loved me.
Yet he was now refusing to see me.
I couldn’t help but panic a little at that. Had he changed his mind? Had he only told me all that because he wanted to help me get better? I frowned. No, I saw that when I was with Tykhe. He hadn’t known I was watching him.
Although he had never actually told me, alive me, that he loved me. I couldn’t help but think I may have imagined it. My time with Tykhe felt fuzzy, like the memory of a dream.
Why he was avoiding me?
I had explained everything about my experience with Tykhe to Kos, whose eyes had widened a little and betrayed actual surprise. Surprise. Kos was nearly as stoic as my Protector. Not quite, but close. Then he’d looked off into the distance as he pondered what I’d told him, slowly nodding, and said, “That makes sense.”
He had then told me about something called a Joining ceremony. I had never heard of one, and he said that was because they were extremely outdated and rare. Most humanoids in the galaxy had a marriage ceremony of some kind, but the Joining was special. A Joining was a literal, mystical fusion of the souls, tying them together to make a bound soul. Kos said it was necessary for Perseus and me, because for us it would be more like a surgery. We weren’t tying two souls together but binding one soul back together.
I thrilled at the knowledge that I would no longer have to marry my cold fiancé. Even if Perseus refused the Joining ceremony, the Moirae would never force me to marry anyone who was not my soul mate, now that there was undeniable confirmation that I even had one.
Synie had even managed to smooth over a diplomatic disaster with Prince Kylmä by offering Q
ueen Cassiopeia’s niece in exchange for me. Apparently, Kylmä had preferred his new option to the “nonroyal” one he’d had in me, and Cassiopeia’s sister was thrilled with her increased status.
To each their own, I supposed.
I also thrilled at the knowledge that, hopefully, I would marry—er, Join—with Perseus, if he would agree to it.
That was the part I wasn’t sure about. I had hoped he would come see me as soon as Dr. Remy had finished stitching up my wounds, but he had not. I wanted to explain everything I had learned from Tykhe. I wanted to tell him how wonderful he was, how annoying he was, tell him how I planned to spend the rest of my life trying to make him laugh.
But he hadn’t shown.
Synie held my hand. “How are you feeling, Meda?” she asked, brushing the hair off my forehead.
I scowled. “Like I want to see my Protector.”
Her mouth twisted. “I can imagine.”
My face screwed up in frustration. “Perseus must—he must not—”
“Whatever you’re thinking, Princess,” Egil said, “you’re wrong.”
I started. I had forgotten Egil was even here. Of course he was here, as the only member of the Protectorate not currently in prison or hiding in his apartments, but Egil had to be the most reticent person I had ever encountered.
I swung my face to look at him. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “Perseus adores you. I may not be an empath, but I know love when I see it. The way he looks at you, talks about you, worries about you….” He shook his head again. “There was no way his interest was purely ‘protectoral.’”
I bit my lip. “Then… why is he avoiding me?” I asked, more to myself than to them.
Well, enough was enough. I was a big girl. I would ask him personally.
Synie sighed. I glanced up at her face as I started to remove the needles from my arms. “What? What’s with that face?” I asked.
She shook her head and moved to help me, which surprised me. “I know you too well, Princess,” she replied. “I could restrain you, but then I’d feel bad, and I think it’s time we dragged Perseus out of hiding anyway.”
I grinned at her. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I tried to hop off and succeeded only in hopping into a goofy little tumble, as my weak legs hadn’t even tried to support me in a few days.
Luckily, Synie was fast and caught me. Egil brought a wheelchair over and they helped me into it as I gave them both a grateful smile. “You knew I was going to want to do this, didn’t you?”
“Even if I didn’t, Clee was prepared for this eventuality,” Synie said, raising her eyebrow.
My eyes widened. “Clee knows?”
“Clee has, apparently, always known,” Synie said as she draped a blanket over my legs. “Callie mentioned to me that Clee has suspected the two of you were in love for a long time.”
I gaped. “She knew? But… how?”
“That’s Clee for you,” Synie said, pushing my wheelchair into the hallway. Egil kept an easy pace beside us. “She sees patterns and connections where everyone else says she’s crazy. Turns out her craziness is probably the sanest thing this galaxy has.”
Laughing, I said, “Now, there’s a sentiment I understand.”
“Kos,” Synie murmured into the MCD on her wrist, “could you meet us at the Protector’s apartment?”
Kos’s voice spoke from behind us. “How about I meet you right here instead?”
At Synie’s stare, he chuckled. “I was already here, talking with Dr. Remy, and on my way to visit Meda when I saw you come out of her room.”
She glared at him but that only widened his smile. “Meda has insisted on visiting the Protector.”
“I am surprised she was able to wait this long.”
“I guess having her apartments blown up has extended her patience,” Synie said.
“I’m right here,” I said, exasperated.
Kos chuckled again. “For which we are immensely grateful, my princess,” he said, his hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, seeing the seriousness deep in his green eyes. I smiled back and covered his hand with mine.
“I, for one, will be thrilled when you leave this place,” Synie said, “because I can’t stand another moment with that demon pet of yours.”
Myrtilos had been found hiding in the smaller hypethral of my Habitat Cube. For once, I was grateful for his escapist habits. I missed him; I longed to bury my face in his silky fur. Clee and Synie had taken turns caring for him, and while it was no surprise that Myrtilos and Clee got along beautifully, Synie was definitely not on my cat’s list of approved people.
“Thank you for taking care of him, Synie,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, waving her hand as she wheeled me toward the Habitat Cube. “The things I’ll do for you, Princess.”
Synie pushed my wheelchair into the lift, and Kos pressed the button for my level.
“How have repairs been going?” I was genuinely curious, but I was also extremely nervous about going to see my Protector. What would I say? How did I even start this conversation?
Kos glanced at me. “Repairs are fine, Princess,” he said easily. “Your apartments are being renovated and should be habitable within a day or two. Not,” he added, “that you were supposed to leave the infirmary until the end of the week, but you never do follow orders.”
“Nope.”
“I’ll go in and talk to him, Meda,” he said gently. “I will explain everything to him. I expect that he is, er—”
“Drunk?” I finished unhappily.
Kos cleared his throat. “Incapacitated,” he amended. “Yes. I’d like to sober him up before you speak with him.”
I shook my head. “And you’re crazy if you think I’m going to wait outside.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t I know it.”
We paused in the hallway outside Perseus’s apartments. Most of the debris had been cleared away and the damaged ceiling had been patched; my door, at the end of the corridor, had been replaced, but I could hear work crews inside banging away at the remains of my apartments.
“You’re sure you want to come in, Princess?” Kos asked. “I doubt Perseus is, er, at his most cordial—”
I laughed, but there was more concern than humor in it. “When is he ever?” I shook my head again and rolled my wheelchair forward. “No. I am not waiting outside for what might be the most important personal conversation I’ll ever have.”
And with that, I pushed the button for the door chime and waited.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
After the second chime, a voice inside barked at us to go away.
Kos responded by banging on the door with his fist. “Not bloody likely, Perseus,” he replied loudly. “You can open the door willingly or I can just come in. Your choice.”
There was some shuffling and a brief pause before the door slid open, revealing my Protector in quite possibly the most disheveled state I’d ever seen him.
My shock must have registered on my face, and he flicked a surprised and irritated glance at me before running a hand through his wild hair. For once, it wasn’t tied back, but unruly about his face. He wasn’t wearing a shirt or shoes, just loose black exercise pants, and he held a nearly empty bottle in one hand. Dark circles ringed his eyes, making his scar stand out even more starkly than usual.
“Oh, good,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Kos. And the princess. By all means, come on in.” He gestured to his apartments as he wandered back inside. “Make yourselves at home.”
Kos might have kept the shock from his face, but I didn’t. Perseus’s normally military-efficient apartments were a disaster. The glass coffee table was broken, furniture was ripped and overturned, and the floor was strewn with furniture stuffing, wooden shards, glass shards, and broken plants. There were also two large, empty bottles of what I presumed had been liquor, likely the same thing he was finishing in the bottle he current
ly held. The place was in worse condition than mine had been after the explosion.
I slowly maneuvered inside, gaping, glass crunching beneath the wheels of my chair. What had happened here?
Kos calmly stepped around the carnage as if he didn’t even see it. The door slid shut behind us, leaving Synie and Egil in the hallway.
“We need to talk, Protector,” Kos said.
“Don’t call me that,” Perseus snapped. “I am not a protector. I can’t protect anything.”
My heart broke for him in that moment; my wonderful, soul-wounded Protector was blaming himself for everything. Somewhat fittingly, that was a trait we shared.
God, he looked awful. His feet looked like they’d been cut several times over, which, given the thickness of Mathan skin, was a frightening thought, but Perseus didn’t seem to notice or care.
“You saved her life,” Kos reminded him. “Several times.”
“I killed her, damn you!” Perseus spun on him, eyes blazing. I gasped, but I don’t think he remembered I was there. “Don’t tell me that a few rescues makes up for one failure. Not in this business. Not with a life as precious as hers.”
“She is precious to all of Galaxia,” Kos replied, watching him.
“I don’t give a damn about Galaxia,” Perseus spat. “Her life is precious to me.”
“Perseus,” I breathed.
Perseus turned his fiery stare on me. We simply stared at each other for what felt like eons, then he turned away. “Not that it matters.” He let out a breath. “I’m resigning my position as Protector.”
My heart stuttered. “I’m afraid I can’t accept that.”
He laughed bitterly. “It’s hardly your choice, Princess.”
“We have another job for you,” Kos said. “A new Intended has been chosen—”
We both flinched as Perseus spun on him and hurtled the nearly empty bottle he’d been holding into the corner. “What?” he shouted, furious. “She was dead, damn you! Can’t you give her a week’s rest before you shovel some other dead fish on her?”
