Page 13 of Honor Bound

A faint breeze stirred through the garden, rustling the petals of the flower beneath her fingertips. She paused and exhaled slowly, as if the scent of damp earth and sun-warmed leaves were grounding her in the present.

“At night,” she continued, “he would take me out into the desert outside our home. We’d lay on an old blanket, and he’d point out constellations, tracing their shapes in the sky. I used to think I could hear the stars humming if I listened hard enough.”

Her lips quirked in a self-deprecating smile, but her eyes shone with unshed emotion. “It’s funny,” she murmured, voice thick with memory. “When you spend your childhood dreaming of the stars, you never think of what it might cost to reach them.”

Her words were filled with quiet longing, the kind that comes from cherishing something lost. Roan didn’t know what to make of them, or the strange names she mentioned—Greek, Roman. But he didn’t interrupt.

She turned away and continued walking, leaving him rooted in place for a moment. He followed again, the soft crunch of his boots on the path the only sound between them.

“My name is Dr. Julia Marksdale,” she said after a while, her voice steadier now. “I’m the lead scientist—or at least I was—for an experimental space exploratory mission called Project Gliese 581g. We were sent to investigate an unknown object in space my father discovered, assess it, study it, and return to home. It was the first long-distance space mission of its kind.”

Her words hung in the air like a fragile thread, connecting two vastly different worlds. Roan’s mind raced to process what she was telling him. Her tone was matter-of-fact, but the weight of her story pressed heavily against him.

“Where is your planet,” he asked, his voice low, “and how many others were on board?”

She turned to him, and the spark of intelligence in her eyes burned brightly against the weariness in her smile. The expression stopped him in his tracks, his question momentarily forgotten.

She didn’t answer directly. Instead, she studied him, her expression suggesting she knew far more than she let on—and that she was only going to give him as much as she wanted.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice tightening.

Julia tilted her head slightly, her gaze piercing but not unkind. “I could ask you the same,” she said softly.

Roan barely kept his expression neutral.

No one ever questioned him like that. Not his father, not his uncle, not the soldiers who snapped to attention at his command. He was the one who dictated the terms of an interrogation, not the other way around.

And yet, here she was—standing in his mother’s garden, turning the weight of scrutiny back on him as though she had every right.

He didn’t like it. And he disliked that he didn’t like it even more.

* * *

The sun cast a warm, golden light over the garden as Julia walked down the winding path, her steps slower than usual, her thoughts tangled in a web of questions. She could feel Roan’s presence behind her, the quiet weight of his scrutiny pressing against her back. His energy was controlled, but it was there—like a storm waiting to break.

She hadn’t meant to turn her back on him so abruptly, but her instincts screamed at her to maintain control. To lead the conversation.

How much should I tell him? How much does he already know?

She paused by a cluster of pale-blue flowers that shimmered faintly in the sunlight, brushing her fingers against their delicate petals. The floating islands had a way of making her forget, even for a moment, the chaos that had brought her here.

“You’re protective of him,” Roan said quietly, his voice closer now.

Julia turned her head slightly, catching him out of the corner of her eye. His gaze wasn’t on her—it was on the path behind them where the statue of his mother was still visible.

“Calstar doesn’t need my protection, but I like to think he enjoys my friendship,” she said, her tone measured. “I’m grateful for the time I’ve had with him. He reminds me a lot of my father.” She turned back to the flowers, letting her fingers linger. “He’s told me a little about your mother. She sounded like an extraordinary woman.”

“She was,” Roan replied. His voice carried a faint edge, as if the memory was both a comfort and a wound.

Julia turned fully now, meeting his eyes directly. “He’s missed you, you know,” she said softly. “Why has it been so long since your last visit?”

Roan’s jaw tightened, the subtle movement drawing her attention to the hard lines of his face. “It isn’t safe,” he confessed after a moment, his voice quieter now. “For me to be here. For them. My presence invites danger, and this world doesn’t deserve that.”

Julia studied him carefully. His words were earnest, but there was something deeper beneath them—something unsaid. “So you chose to stay away?”

“I chose to protect them,” Roan said firmly, his gaze sharp as it locked onto hers.

Her fingers curled into her palm, her protective instincts flaring. “Yet, you’re here now,” she said, her tone holding just enough challenge to test him.

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