She approached his desk with that precise gait of hers, carrying the stack of documents.
Finally. Rynar could see how dire the situation was and begin to unravel it.
He hadn’t wanted to handle the old papers that had just been shipped from his home world without having copies–too fragile. There was no discussion of inputting them into the system, either.
“Here they are,” she said in her melodic voice, which always seemed so assured, and put the documents in front of him, leaning slightly over his desk. She seemed a bit colder than usual. More detached.
She made a move to turn toward the door.
“Two copies?” he found himself asking. It was a habit, to make sure everything was done just right. Alissia always did a perfect job, though. Every single time.
He knew that, but there was still the compulsion to ask her.
And, more importantly, to hear her reply.
“As always,” she said.
“The machine didn’t store a copy in the system?”
“I’m surprised it’s still connected to electricity.”
“And nobody read it?”
Alissia clenched her jaw. “You said not to read it. Want to read my mind and check?”
That was a terse yes if he’d ever heard one–and he was out of questions.
“Deruzians can’t read minds.” Sadly. Rynar had a feeling Alissia’s mind was a glorious place to explore.
“With your super lawyer skills, you’re about as close to mind reading as a being could get.”
“Adami, was that a compliment?”
“Just showing you how it’s done. Maybe you’ll learn someday.”
Ah, there was the fire in her–and a potential reason for her coldness. Deruzians weren’t used to showing gratitude, but Zarynhadsaid humans enjoyed it. Nazyn had confirmed it.
“Thank you.” He looked into her green eyes. They shined brighter than usual. Curious. “There is nobody else I would have assigned this task to.”
Her eyes widened a fraction. Then they returned to that slightly narrowed shape. It reminded Rynar of Zinny, the cat he’d saved. Glorious creatures, Earthen felines. Very clean, too.
Alissia kept silent. Did she expect more than that simple thank you?
She was hard to read, even for someone who specialized in studying expressions in the courtroom and briefing meetings.
Nines, he was a highly respected lawyer, he should have been better at this.
“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” she asked.
Rynar heard the humor in her voice. This. This is what he liked. The back-and-forth between them. Her not being afraid of speaking her mind around him. Most days, she was the only one who could make him laugh with that sharp tongue of hers.
“I think one of my hearts just stopped beating,” he said, playing along, as he always did.
A corner of her full lips ticked up. “I wonder what it takes to stop them both.”
“Planning on giving me a hearts-attack?”
“I’m not risking a life sentence. I’ve heard those Deruzian judges are fearsome.”
