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Dreven stared at her. Kesta waited for the objection. Instead he nodded.

“Then we tell Keth after Pell arrives.”

Something warm moved through her chest. She tried not to make too much of it.

“You don't mind?”

“I mind many things.”

His tone had become dry again.

“Kesta, I do not enjoy discovering that an imperial classification related to you has been circulating through transports for years. I dislike even more that someone may have serviced Horan’s implant inside my camp.” His gaze hardened. “But Pell gave the information to you. You gave him your word.”

Kesta studied his face.

“So we wait.”

“We wait long enough to keep the promise.”

There it was. Dreven was not agreeing because she had corrected him. He was making his own decision. The distinction mattered more than she expected. Kesta closed the scan.

“Tomorrow, then.”

Dreven nodded and turned toward the entrance. Halfway there, he stopped.

“You should sleep.”

Kesta gave him a look. He sighed softly.

“I am aware this is not medical advice.”

“Good.”

“It remains good advice.”

“Go away, Dreven.”

His shoulders shifted with suppressed amusement. At the doorway he glanced back, silver eyes catching the dim mineral light.

“Good night, Kesta.”

“Good night.”

He left. Kesta remained beside the scanner for another minute, listening to the quiet breathing of the people around her. Three days ago, Dreven had been a dangerous stranger who claimed her because his law left him no cleaner way to keep raiders from taking her.

Now she knew how he smiled when he was trying not to. She knew he gave up his own water rather than charge the camp for his decision. She knew he could be stubborn enough to make her want to throw medical equipment at him and disciplined enough to step back when someone else knew more.

She also knew the empire had expected something to happen between them. That should have made every flicker of attraction feel suspect. Instead, what bothered Kesta most was how many reasons she was finding to like him that had nothing to do with biology at all. That was considerably harder to dismiss. And considerably more dangerous.

CHAPTER TEN

Terms of Protection

Kesta wrote the first draft on the back of an obsolete ration ledger because Ash Camp had apparently survived for decades without discovering the luxury of blank paper.

She considered several titles before settling on TERMS OF PROTECTION. Anything harsher would put Dreven on the defensive before he reached the first line, while anything softer would irritate her every time she looked at it. The point was not to accuse him of offenses he had not committed. She wanted to put into writing what they had already begun establishing through argument, compromise, and a surprising amount of mutual irritation before one of them discovered that the other had been operating under an entirely different definition.

Tavi leaned across the infirmary worktable and read upside down while Kesta wrote. His four hands were occupied with three pieces of equipment and one strip of dried fruit that Sera had specifically ordered him not to eat near the sterile supplies.