Page 26 of Alien Burn

Sereya could feel her damp hair against her neck. One cold drop slipped beneath her collar.

“Autumns must be hard,” Roemary said.

Sereya had not mentioned an anniversary on the transport. She had not mentioned her family at all.

“I'm going to sleep.”

Roemary smiled.

“Sleep well.”

Sereya waited until the other door closed before shutting her own.

She locked it. Tested it again.

The officials who had given her this identity had warned her about records, about calls home, about trying to reach the money that still belonged to her. The trust would demand proof. Proof would lead back to the person she had been. She had done everything they told her until the night she had mistaken loneliness for a reason to trust someone.

Now Roemary could remind her of that with a date.

She hadn't said she would tell anyone. Hadn't needed to.

Sereya turned off the room lights and sat beside the window.

The fires were still visible below the terraces. She counted the moving points of light above them, lost one behind the smoke, and waited until it emerged again.

Dhomhes had been waiting for a medic when she last saw him. She wondered if he had finally let someone treat his hand properly.

He had asked after the injured woman she was helping and listened to the answer. When Sereya had nearly asked about his hand, he had waited. She wished she had finished the question before Roemary took over.

He hadn't sought her out afterward for an explanation of Roemary's behavior, which people so often seemed to believe she owed them. For that alone, she was grateful.

She watched the search lights until her eyes hurt, then made the window opaque and went to bed.

She woke to voices.

For a moment she could not find the room around her. The ceiling was wrong. The light beneath the door was wrong. Her heart was already pounding by the time she remembered the terrace, the suite, the clothes she was wearing.

A male spoke in the corridor. A female answered him sharply.

Sereya pushed the coverlet back and reached for her robe.

No alarm. She listened for one while she tied the belt, fingers refusing to work properly. If there was another attack, she needed to wake Roemary. Find the service corridor. Get clear before the main passage filled.

She crossed the sitting room, careful not to brush the low table, and opened the suite's outer door a little.

“It would be best if you were back at your residence⁠—”

“I don't⁠—”

Red hair. A familiar lifted chin.

“Adryel?”

They turned toward her. The male was Stron, the Ruler's son. He wore a tunic and pants instead of the formal clothing from the platform, and there was no weapon in his hands.

“Are you okay?” Adryel asked her.

“I heard voices. I just wanted to know who was out here.” Sereya's gaze darted from Adryel to Stron and back. “Are you okay?”