Page 67 of Alien Burn

“It's a reception for the survivors, Sereya. Some restraint would be appropriate.”

The blue was dark enough to look almost black in the folds. It covered her from her collarbones to her calves. There was nothing unrestrained about it except that she had chosen it.

“I like it.”

Roemary's expression softened. Sereya would have preferred a frown.

“Of course you do. I only meant that you might be more comfortable attracting less attention. After everything you've told me.”

There it was. Her past, brought out and laid beside a dress.

Sereya glanced toward the open door. No one stood in the sitting room beyond it, but Roemary followed the look. She knew exactly what she had done.

“I'll meet you for breakfast,” Sereya said.

For a moment, neither moved.

“Don't be long. There are people I need you to recognize.”

Roemary left the door open.

Sereya closed it, gently, and rested her palm against the wood until the tremor in her fingers settled. Then she picked up the comm.

She told Dhomhes she would be there.

His answer came while she was still holding it. Would she save him a few minutes?

She sat on the edge of the bed to reply.

Yes. I'd like that.

The blue dress wrinkled beneath her. She smoothed it with her free hand and left it on.

The reception was being held in a gallery inside the volunteers' residence. Khalzin and Janae had gone to Terra North with Stron and Adryel, an outing for just the four of them.

By the time Sereya and Roemary reached the gallery, Roemary had forgiven her.

That was how she behaved, at least. She drew Sereya into conversations, touched her arm, and introduced her as her dearest friend. Sereya fetched her a drink and watched her explain to a program official how much the volunteers needed something pleasant after their ordeal.

The official agreed. She looked tired enough to sit down on the floor.

Sereya understood the impulse. The gallery was beautiful, all pale stone and tall windows shaded against the steady light, but it was too warm. Someone had put flowering branches in shallow bowls along the walls. Their thick, sweet smell made her think of the medicinal cream she was still rubbing into her injured knuckles.

At the far end of the room, a woman stood with an untouched plate in her hands. She had been on the ship. Sereya recognized her without being able to summon her name.

“You can put that down,” Sereya said as she passed.

The woman looked at her plate as though someone else had given it to her hands.

“I know. I just don't want them to bring me another one.”

Sereya took an empty plate from the serving table and stood beside her.

“There. Now we're both eating.”

The woman gave a short, surprised laugh.

They stayed together until a friend came looking for her. Sereya watched the two women find chairs near the window. One rested her forehead against the other's shoulder.