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“Of course you’re my friend. You’re my wife. My mate.”
“You make it sound so simple.” Her tone is rueful, as if she wishes she could feel the same.
“What is it you mean to say?”
“We’re more than friends, Mak,” she says softly. “You mean more than that to me now, and that scares me.”
“Why should it scare you?” I ask, happy but perplexed.
“Because I’m not sure I can be everything you need in a partner,” she replies, her earnest concern breaking my heart. “I can work hard and become a supportive queen. I can be a good, loyal friend. But what if I’m not capable of anything more? Where does that leave you?”
“The only thing you need to be for me,” I tell her, “is yourself.”
“We should return to the party,” she says.
I nod in agreement and leave our dizzying conversation unfinished. I’m not going to push her, not when I feel her slowly falling into the clutches of my heart.
When we rejoin the celebration that began after our chase in the forest, the festivities are already well under way. Everyone is dancing, and not even the presence of Deadhead attendees could cause the partygoers to lose their joyous mood. We fill plates of delicious food and accept greetings and well-wishes from guests.
I decide to slow my drinking pace so that I might avoid any other incidents with crossing my mate’s boundaries, but I put the mistakes of the evening behind me. Whatever is happening between the two of us, I intend to dance with her and catch her every smile.
We stay on the outskirts of the crowd to give her relief from the constant close physical contact, and for the most part the people think nothing of it. To them, we appear like any newly mated pair that would rather be alone with eachother than making merry.
In reality, we are anything but a typical newly mated pair.
But I don’t care about that. My head is in the clouds because she said we’re more than friends.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MAK
“The results of the count are in, and I am pleased to announce that the winning proposal for resettlement is Ta’Nak Annir.” Councilwoman Kannita addresses a packed house, and murmurs of approval rise from the gathered crowd. Between the council, their secretaries, the sworn captains, and their seconds-in-command, the council room is fuller than usual. The vote drew more sworn to the table than I’d expected, as the various ship captains tend to avoid administrative matters.
Francesca beams at me, standing at my side on the dais. She’s the only human in the room, but she chose to wear a traditional Kar’Kali vest and skirt set for her first day at council. It suits her, showing more skin than she usually reveals.
I lean down to whisper in her ear. “And it was all because of your architectural fun facts.”
“Thank you Kannita,” I call out. “I’m sure we’re all excited to begin the process of settling in. It’ll feel quite real once we’re out of the Revenge, hm?”
Frankie flinches as some of the council members start shouting over one another about the next steps. I don’t believe she was expecting how loud it can get during these sessions. While the others are distracted by jokes and jabs about the proposals, I check in with her.
“This might go on for some time now that the vote is over. It wouldn’t be rude for you to step out if the crowd is getting to you.”
“I’m fine,” she insists. “I’d like to stay, so maybe some of your council can get to know me better. That is, if I can get a word in edgewise.”
“Most of the captains will be leaving when the boring conversations begin,” I say.
“Then I’ll stay.”
When the raucous reactions to the voting conclusion die down, the sworn captains begin to filter out. Neither Captain Darra nor Captain Rossa appeared, but that was to be expected. As far as I know, they’re both absorbed in tasks across the borderlands. When the room loosens up, I lead Frankie down from the dais. Even when oblivious attendees brush by her, she seems to be staying calm.
I’m relieved, knowing that she’d be disappointed in herself if she couldn’t make it through her first day officially supporting me in political matters.
“Now, shall I return again when you’ve got a castle available for me to occupy?” one captain calls with a grin on his way out the door.
“I hear the bot bastards are planning a human matchmaker service, so I’d rather you call me when that one’s available,” snorts his second-in-command. He catches Frankie’s eye and goes a little pale. “No disrespect meant of course to the honorable Ka’lakkori, err, my lady.”
“Call me if those Deadheads give you trouble now, son,” one elder captain declares, slapping me on the shoulder. I wince. He hits like a missile with that cybernetic arm of his.
