Page 43 of Alien Burn

He stopped.

She waited, composed, with her uninjured hand resting beside her cup.

“You might give a male time to say good afternoon.”

“Would it have helped?”

He considered that.

“Apparently not.”

Her mouth moved. Not quite a smile.

“Roemary isn't here.”

“I can see that.”

“Then you either want me to find her, or you want to ask about her while she's gone.”

He had earned that.

The bench was wide enough for two, with room between. He indicated the empty end. “May I?”

Sereya moved her cup onto the pool's stone rim.

He sat. Water slipped over a shallow lip into the lower basin. Somewhere behind the greenery, an attendant was moving dishes. Ordinary sounds. No one asking him for the name of the person responsible for a forged report. No father waiting for news of a son.

Beside him, Sereya adjusted the cuff covering her dressing.

“You haven't answered,” she said.

“No. I haven't.” He rested his forearms on his thighs. “I did have questions about Roemary.”

“Did?”

“I find I don't much like the way I was going to ask them.”

She studied him. “You could ask plainly.”

“Another time. If I need to.”

“And this time?”

Dhomhes looked at the water.

He could leave. It would be the neatest ending to a poor beginning. Instead, he felt the stone warm beneath his palms and discovered that he wanted to sit here a little longer.

“I would like a few minutes without needing anything from anyone.”

Sereya's eyes went to his face. Whatever she found there made her look away again.

“That sounds nice.”

“Doesn't it?”

She picked up her cup, tasted what was in it, and lowered it with a small grimace.

“Except for the tea.”