Page 38 of Diamond

The thought of Tehlmar reminds me of how much he dodged around any conversation about women's rights and it occurs to me to see how Kuret responds. "Many women I have known have had men suddenly betray them."

His face contorts and his eyes narrow. "I assume those males are now dead."

I blink. What is it with him and death sentences?

I decide to try again on a more neutral topic. "Women from all over Afghanistan are protesting the rights—or the severe lack thereof—that women are supposed to have. Since the power changed hands in the country, women have been banned from going to school or doing any jobs. In a country with as many women in the workforce as men, it really affects things, especially farming. What do you think about that?"

His head is tilted now. "A lot of those words were not in my language. What kind of labor can you not do?"

"I used to be a grade three teacher. I taught children for two years before the ban. Since then I have used the only thing I have to stand on the side of justice: my time and the risk to my life."

He's staring intensely at me as I finish speaking. My cheeks blaze with warmth as I open my mouth, but he beats me to it.

"I know that staring is unacceptable. Thivoll made that clear, but your face is so delightful to look at I cannot help getting lost in it."

The compliment takes me by surprise, and I can't tear my eyes from his. When did his eyes start to look interesting instead of like he wasIblisin the flesh?

My childhood best friend, Laila, and I had a theory that men give the most compliments when they think you are dissatisfied with your appearance. I think the same of Kuret but his cheeks and arms distract me by glowing in a different pattern, making me realize he is blushing.

A blush to match my blushing cheeks. How cute.

Cute? No. Another flash of his face as he eviscerated a person washes that thought away and makes my stomach ache even more.

I close my eyes for a long moment and open them again, but he still seems softer to me now and I'm once again staring into those huge bright green eyes.

"I do not understand your words fully, but I do know that you should never have had to risk your life to have control over your own choices. There should be protectors. I will be yours, though I am not very good at speaking with females and so please do not take offense."

His markings flair again and he fidgets. He is a fierce warrior, I can see, but he is also a bumbling mess, which makes me findhim a little endearing. It's an odd mix with how annoyed I am. He's barbaric, not charming.

Something flutters in the pit of my stomach—arousal again, that reminds me it is always there lurking beneath the surface. I catch myself and quickly pull my eyes away from the staring match. The familiar feeling shocks me again and I gasp softly, taking two steps away from him.

I can understand why this arousal was there with Tehlmar. He saved my life, and he was an attractive male, so it made sense. I don't even find Kuret attractive. He's weird and blurts out things like "you're so pretty" right after injuring Roshan and nearly killing me.

Interesting, maybe, but not attractive. And, I remind myself, not someone I can trust, but at least he seems open to having Roshan along. That will have to be enough for now.

I stretch my arms above my head, feeling a numb pain in my stomach and the spots that were blazing with pain not too long ago. It's not natural—I know it is the work of the genali, but I have to count my blessings as they come.

The wind picks up slightly and goosebumps line up my bare arms, reminding me that I still have them exposed. I look down at the silver sheen in disgust and attempt to wipe it off.

The strangest thing about it is that I don't feel any different. It blends seamlessly with my skin, but I can't stand it. I picture how much worse the rest of my body must look, and the jumpsuit shrinks immediately. I yelp, quickly imaginingit covering my body again, ignoring the concerned look from Kuret.

I can't stand the idea of being exposed for even a second longer.

Hate burns in my chest at the flimsy piece of clothing. I shut my eyes tightly, imagining it covering my body even more than it did before. With my eyes still shut, I imagine as hard as I can that it is a floor-length dress with an attached hijab.

When I feel the cool fabric sliding up my neck and chin, I almost jump for joy. It covers my forehead, lips, and nose, tightly wrapping around my face and cutting off my air supply.

Panic immediately sets in, and my heart races as I think of it as a regular face covering. It saddens me I can't even achieve a skirt, no matter how hard I try, and I feel tears prickle in my eyes.

My body is sinking back down onto the ground before I can stop it and a moment later my arms are around my knees.

I hold tears off because if a single one drops, I am going to become a sobbing mess. I still feel naked and I hate that I don't have the ability to change it right now. I hate that everything I have ever known has been taken away from me and I have no idea how to get it back.

Hate. That evil word mybabaworked so hard to expunge from me. To help me realize it is a sharp thing to hold too close to you. Just as willing to tear you to pieces inside as it tears apart the world around us.

In the name of religion. In the name of culture. In the name of countries and claimed homelands.

But it's rattling around inside me, nonetheless. There hasn't been this much of it threatening to explode out since they locked me away. This alien isn't cute and endearing and I need to get those sorts of schoolgirl thoughts out of my head.

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