Page 64 of Shadows of Stardust

But we both expect that tide to turn one of these days.

“They’ll need our story to keep moving forward,” Zandrel tells me one morning while he’s doing push-ups—of all godforsaken things—on the floor of the living space.

Never a moment of rest for this formidable warrior.

“It goes in phases,” he continues, not even a little out of breath and perfectly able to keep up a conversation during his workout. “Right now, they’re laying the groundwork for the relationships they’ll follow to the end. Sooner or later, they’ll check off whatever boxes they need to with everyone else and turn their attention back to us.”

“So what? What’s the play?”

Zandrel stands, and I very deliberately don’t look at the way his tight, black, sleeveless top stretches across his broad chest and muscled abdomen, or the obscenely close cut of his black shorts, clinging to trim hips and powerful thighs.

“Probably a date. I’d wager it’s coming in the next few days. Big production value. Lots of cameras. If they’re leaning into us as hard as I suspect they are, they’ll make it a centerpiece of the season.”

I swallow back a wave of nausea as a sickening, swooping sensation rolls through my gut.

Fuck, I hate to be the center of attention.

Not a great quality for pulling off this whole plan, even before it all went ass-up and I got stuck with Zandrel. Somehow, I’d been expecting to skate by, keep to the sidelines, escape too much notice while I was here and be edited down as a forgettable side character when the show aired.

I’m not sure I could have been more wrong if I’d tried.

My number was up from the second I stepped off the cruiser, and I suppose it’s another mark in Zandrel’s favor that he’s got a pulse on how all of this works.

Not that it makes me feel a whole hell of a lot better knowing that we’re still going to have to up our game.

But that’s a problem for tomorrow-Roslyn.

Today, we’re still waiting in the wings for our next big act as we leave the bungalow and head down to the beach.

Today, I’ve got a formidable Revexoran warrior at my side and plans in motion.

Today, I’m going to choose to believe all of this will turn out alright.

I have to, if I don’t want to lose my marbles entirely. I have to believe in him, and in myself, enough to keep my wits about me.

I’m not sure I’ll ever fully trust Zandrel. Not with how he behaved toward me before our truce, and not when I know how much his own goal of getting back in with the Aux means to him. If given the opportunity to choose getting his rank back at the expense of me finding Savvie, I don’t doubt for a second he’d choose himself.

I know, because that’s exactly what I tried to do to him. So I couldn’t even blame him if the tables were turned.

But for now, our goals align and it’s still in our best interests to continue helping each other, so I can trust in that, at least. I can trust I have some value to him as his fake girlfriend for however long this whole act lasts.

It’s an act that’s easy to pull off as the lazy day rolls by and we’re left mostly to our own devices. Beyond a few fly-bys from the hovers, we’re in the clear. Apparently a Sendahlan-Aventri-Jurvian trio is having some sort of epic break up in one of the bungalows on the other end of the beach, so this end is pretty quiet.

“Swim?” Zandrel asks me late in the afternoon.

I’m a bit sweaty and have sand in a few unmentionable locations after a day on the beach, but the idea of stripping down to a swimsuit and going for a dip in front of all the cameras makes the skin of my scarred shoulder twinge uncomfortably.

“Nah,” I tell him. “You go ahead. I’m going to catch up with Juni.”

I nod to the row of loungers where she’s soaking up the afternoon sun, and he just gives me a shrug that clearly sayssuit yourselfbefore he takes off his shirt

I turn away, again making a point not to dwell too closely on all of those muscles, the cut of his armor, the lean grace of his stride as he heads toward the ocean.

Only, as I plop down into the seat next to Juni, I can’t help but glance back over and find Zandrel never made it to the surf.

He’s been intercepted by Rhevar, of all people. They chat for a moment before Zandrel nods and follows him over to where a few of the male contestants are getting ready to play a pickup game of the strange soccer-rugby-wrestling combo they all find so fascinating.

Juni’s got her eyes on the game, too, watching her own paramour make some sort of move that earns him a few whooping cheers from his team.