Page 31 of Hunting the Warlord's Daughter

She laughed. “What did you picture me doing?”

His cheeks reddened. “I don’t know. Going to school, I suppose.”

“Do you fish?”

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about it. We—my brother and I, and Kaz—were inseparable. When my father was away on duty, we would get into all sorts of mischief, but we never thought to hunt or fish. It was considered the work of the servants.”

“I didn’t have a choice. Food could get scarce in between supply ships.”

His mouth tightened, and he turned his attention to adjusting something on the holster he was getting ready for her. “It seems though that you had a happy upbringing?”

“When I wasn’t enduring Ilkka’s etiquette lessons or dreading my betrothal.”

The words hung between them.

“I left you in limbo, didn’t I?” he said. “By not telling you…”

“Of your noble actions on my behalf?” She couldn’t call it a wedding. “Knowing it was to be you and not those old men would have given me fewer sleepless nights.”

Their gazes connected for a few heated seconds.

“What of your upbringing, Aral? Was it mostly happy?”

A muscle in his cheek jumped, and she realized her mistake. Below the surface, his pain and anger were still raw. It brought her back to the day she first saw him, the miserable young cadet. “When my father wasn’t home, aye. When he was… well, fun was harder to come by.”

Her chest squeezed tight, and she wished she hadn’t said anything. Having Karbon Mawndarr as a father must have been awful. “I’m glad I was never forced to marry him.”

“Marrying Karbon would have been the death of you. If not physically, then of the spirit.”

“You saved me from that fate. I’ll always be grateful.”

Emotion played over his face, brief and warm, like sunlight on the water. She handed him the dozer, and when their fingers inevitably touched, she almost grasped his hand and tugged it to her heart.

He withdrew quickly, holstering the weapon, and she cursed her hesitation. “We’ll practice daily while we’re underway.” He waved a hand at the ladder to the main deck. “You first.”

She considered those words. Kaz said he was shy. Maybe shewouldgo first—in making the first move. She wasn’t Awrenkka anymore, the little mar-mouse. Wren would be brave—in all aspects of life. She’d stand her ground and experience everything long denied her. If making up for lost time meant violating the laws of attraction with her not-completely-one-hundred-percent-legal husband, then she was a hundred percent on board.

With renewed determination, she grabbed the rungs and hoisted herself back to the main deck.

* * *

“Kaz and I have decided to stop at Issenda Crossroads, a Borderlands outpost, to refresh supplies,” Aral told Wren the next morning. “It’s going to be a long haul to the Uncharted Territories, and who knows what we’ll find on Ara Ana once we arrive. Issenda draws homesteaders and traders from light-years around. It’s run by the Hand of Sakkara. An old sect.”

“Is that right? Are the sisters holding boxing tryouts? I already have my ring name.”

“This time, we’ll aim for lower profile.” He could tell she was feeling better after a solid night’s sleep. She seemed to have new energy, her dry humor in full bloom.

“You’ve been there before?”

He heard the worry lurking in her voice. “I have not, but Bolivarr said he passed through there once. For what purpose, I don’t know. He was vague about his activities, obviously.” But not vague enough, he feared. Aral pushed aside thoughts of his brother, his eternal frustration over not knowing what had happened to him. “It’ll be quick—a stop, stock up, and go. Since it’s a sanctuary world, no one will expect us to show up there.”

“You mean me—the daughter of a man responsible for the massacre of millions of their kind.”

“You’re also the descendant of priestesses,” Kaz reminded her.

“I’m still getting used to the idea.” Wren pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

“Let me see those.” He fiddled with the eyeglasses, further adjusting the bent frames. “The spectacles are deteriorating by the day.” By the fates, he wanted her free of them. Free to see the world around her with no barriers. “The sisters run a medical clinic. There’ll be someone there who can treat your eyes, no questions asked.”

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