Page 21 of Prima
“I—” For once he seems at a loss for words. He bites the corner of his lips again. “If by ‘a pleasant time’ you refer to physical intimacy, I did not consider that to be on the menu, so to speak.”
“Then why?”
An even stronger breeze tousles his hair, hair almost as long as her own. He sets down his bare skewer on the plate before him and turns the skinny stick round and round. “I was still debating whether I could successfully hijack your raft.”
“Are you thinking of it right now?”
“Of course. It would be most useful to me.”
She doesn’t even need to close her eyes to know that he’s lying. “Should I boot you off and eat all the braised sea cucumber by myself?”
For a moment his features become drawn, tense. His attention slips to her stool—underneath which she has stowed her weapon. But when she makes no move to use it on him, he relaxes a little. “I do like braised sea cucumber. How did you make it?”
“With soy sauce and plenty of brown sugar.”
“That is the proper way. Why don’t you—why don’t you boot me off after we have it?”
He does not look at her as he asks his hesitant question, his eyes downcast, his fingers still spinning the skewer. It dawns on her, after a moment, that for this proud boy, the request constitutes more than an entreaty. It is a plea.
Let me stay a little longer. Please.
“Why not tell me that you followed me because you couldn’t help it?”
He stills, his posture suddenly rigid.
“That’s what I’d say if I wanted to stealyourboat,” she slowly finishes the rest of her thought.
She places a plate of braised sea cucumber and two bowls of rice on the folding table. He watches her scoop some sea cucumber onto his rice. He is breathing fast—with relief? Because she lets him stay or because she chooses not to probe further into his motives?
“Eat,” she orders.
Obediently he picks up his chopsticks. But he doesn’t start eating until she’s almost halfway through the contents of her bowl. “Why did you dawdle these past few days? Just because you wanted to seduce a random sailor?”
True enough, though that was not the only reason. She pulls her lips. “This raft is the emergency launch for a solar yacht. I lost the yacht and I’m not looking forward to accounting for myself when I get home.”
“Because you lost it?”
“Because I lost it off the coast of the Southern Continent.”
“In the war zone?”
He sounds surprised but notthatsurprised—hehasfollowed her since before she entered Dawani waters.
“In the war zone—and I didn’t need to go to the war zone.”
She helped Offshore Queensland Coalition secure an important victoryandsaved their general’s grandson. But her motherwillblister her hide for disregarding specific instructions to avoid the war zone—and she’d rather postpone that if she can’t avoid it altogether.
“Will they punish you?”
“I won’t be able to leave the house for a month, maybe two.” She shudders. “My mom will recommend that six months be added to my mandatory reclamation service.”
He is so astonished he sets down his chopsticks. “That’s it?”
“That and a stupendous lecture.”
“Is New Ryukyu’s mandatory service bad?”
“No. I mean, it’s hard work, obviously, but the accommodation is decent and they give you good food and people from the same cohort often stay friends for life.”
