Page 115 of The Garnet Daughter
The ramp is open, the stark lights of the ship making it seem like night has already come. A spotlight illuminates August and another commander just outside as they lift boxes onto a large platform that floats a knee’s height off the sandy ground.
“August.” I can’t hide the urgency in my voice.
Startled, he looks up into the cargo hull and smiles when his gaze lands on me, then he gestures to the other commander, handing him the data pad and pointing to a few other metal containers I recognize.
“You have perfect timing.” He ascends the ramp. “99 wanted all the weapon totes he stored on the ship transferred to the front lines immediately. I forgot how many were down here, been sitting here since we brought Ferren back. It’s enough to make a difference at the perimeter. Makes you wonder what he was planning to do if Ferren was not able to leave the Estate.” He laughs a little and wraps a hand around my waist, pulling me in for an unexpected kiss.
I’m stiffer than I want to be. I love that he kisses me so freely in private, but I can’t stop the uneasy emotions swirling around inside me. I hate that I’m unable to match his sunny mood again.
“You’re still mad about this morning. I’m sorry.” His hand travels up to the nape of my neck and then he quickly kisses me again. “But I have something that will make you feel better. Come.”
His distracting enthusiasm makes it almost impossible to correct him for assuming I’m upset. He quickly gestures me forward, walking backwards with a different kind of grin. “Pretty open now, right? I was thinking, since I hate taking climate control jobs anyway, we could turn the cold storage into a greenhouse. Shouldn’t be too difficult, and you can grow Frithian tea leaves or moss or whatever you like to eat.”
I give him a flat look at the last part. “I don’t eat moss, August.”
“I know.” He chuckles at his own joke and opens the doors to the cold storage room. “But it’s a significant size. Grow anything you want.”
I watch his grin fade into something a little shyer as he waits for my opinion. He put a lot of consideration into making me comfortable here that he wants to modify his ship, remove a portion of his income to do so. The idea shoots to the front of my mind that maybe he has been thinking of us together after the conjunction, what we will be and how we will live.
“My favorite tea grows on a tree. Can a tree fit in there?” I ask, being sure to sound excited about the possibility even though my mind is screaming at me to make sure I do not outrightly agree.
“I will expand the height if you want a Frithian tree,” he vows.
I can’t stop my smile. “I can prune it, I suppose.”
He nods, satisfied, and presses the panel for the cold storage to shut, the foggy tendrils dancing and dissipating reminding me of the room I saw on the First Son ship.
“You spoke with Selene?” His voice is gentle.
“She was in a courtyard with the priestess order.”
He winces just a little and then smiles, trying so hard to break through my defenses.
I sit on one of the few remaining totes. “They were making their selection for the new highest priestess so she was distracted. We bickered like normal, but it was different.”
He crosses his arms, standing closer to me. “How so?”
“She didn’t react the way I thought she would. We folded to Frith on accident, and you saw how she was. We left to the birthlands on purpose . . . so I just assumed it would be worse. She was colder about it instead.”
“Hmm, maybe she is realizing you can handle yourself better than she believes.”
“No, that’s definitely not it.” I take a breath to steady myself. I need to divulge the details of what happened in that courtyard so it will stop crawling under my skin. “She’s been making sure the priestess order doesn’t show an interest in me.”
“What does that mean?” The smiley lines around his eyes take on an unnerved angle.
“There was some priestess who knew my mother, and she named me as her selection.”
“To be a priestess?” His arms uncross, hand resting where his weapon normally is subconsciously, as if there is a current threat.
“To be the highest priestess.”
“You are Frithian.”
“In birthplace, yes. I was in my mother’s womb before she fled the order. It is likely known to them all now.”
“Did you deny them?”
“I was shocked and had no words.”
