Page 76 of Shadows of Stardust

“Really,” she drawls. “I never would have guessed.”

“Making such a methodical study of the crew and perimeter, standing up there in your military clothing. I’d be a poor excuse for a guard if I hadn’t noticed.”

Roslyn groans dramatically and rubs at her temples. “God. The fatigues. Maybe if it wasn’t so damn impossible to find anything passing as beachwear on Severin, I would have stood a chance.”

“Never,” I tell her with mock-solemnity. “I would have had my eye on you, regardless.”

We both pause for a beat, long enough for the implications of what I just said to settle between us.

Fates, why am I even allowed to speak?

But—whether because she doesn’t know how close to truth that statement is, or she’d rather ignore it—Roslyn stands and brushes it aside with another exasperated, good-natured shake of her head.

“Keep that energy going into tonight, yeah? Eyes on me. All focused and intent, like I’m the hottest thing on the beach.”

If she only knew.

I don’t know when it happened, but the idea of looking anywherebutat Roslyn tonight seems like it might actually be impossible.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Apparently satisfied with that, she heads back toward the bedroom. “I’m going to finish getting ready for tonight.”

“Anything in particular you’d like me to wear?”

“The tan shorts looked good on you. Maybe with a black shirt this time?”

I must not be entirely able to cover my grunt of dissatisfaction, because she turns on her heel to face me with her hands braced on her hips. “Problem?”

“No,” I grumble, standing and crossing the room to find theshortswhere I’ve been keeping my luggage stashed in the entryway closet so Sella won’t see it when she comes in. “I’ve always wanted the opportunity to dress like a child again.”

“What? You’d rather walk around in your Aux gear?”

“Better than whatever these are.” I hold up the offending item. “Truly. A crime.”

“I think you’ll live.”

With that, she heads into the bedroom, and I’m about to get to the arduous task of donning my costume for the evening, when she speaks from the bedroom doorway.

“Zandrel.”

I’ve never given much thought to my name. It’s a name. Not particularly uncommon or notable amongst Revexorans. Serviceable, sturdy, if a bit boring.

But when Ros says it?

And when she says it like that? Soft, in a tone I haven’t heard it spoken in as long as I can remember?

I like it far too much.

“Yes?”

“Thanks,” she says, still so achingly gentle. “For telling me about what brought you here. And by the time this is over, we’ll get you back there so you can finish what you started.”

I nod.

I’m not sure I’m capable of doing anything more than that, of saying anything more than that, and when Roslyn finally disappears into the bedroom to prepare for the evening, it takes a long, long time for me to move from where I stand.

21

---