Page 50 of Dark Space
He studied me; I tried not to flush as I met his black gaze and shivered beneath it. ‘Alcide does. What he doesn’t know about Scytha isn’t worth knowing.’
‘That sounds like a good thing for a Pri – for a King.’
‘It is. He’ll be an excellent King,’ the Roth answered. ‘If he ever gets the chance to rule,’ he added under his breath, so softly that I was sure I wasn’t supposed to have heard.
I tensed when he reached towards the door to Alcide’s quarters, remembering the last time I was carried through it; the healing wound on my shoulder throbbed in response.
‘Alcide would never harm you,’ my Roth said softly, sensing my discomfort.
‘I know,’ I managed, surprising myself when I realised it was true; I felt safe with both of them. ‘Sorry.’
He gave me an odd look. ‘Why would you be sorry? Roth males are hunters. It is instinctive to be scared. But you need not be. If he hurt you, I’d kill him myself. If I could get to him before Vesper did.’
He didn’t give me time to unpack that, pressing his hand to the panel next to the door. It slid open soundlessly, and he ushered me inside.
I gaped.
In my swift trip through to the doctor’s lab, I’d seen that Alcide’s chamber had previously held a ridiculously oversizedbed and some shelves. It had been unusually sparse, though I’d reasoned it down to space travel and restrictions on size and personal belongings, which – I imagined – would be normal for a military ship.
Now it was like fairyland.
The chamber was strewn with greenery, with leaves and branches and flowering vines, all interspersed with tiny lights that twinkled and danced. Candles – or something that looked very much like them – covered the shelves. The ridiculous bed had been draped with swathes of golden linen, curtaining it so the mattress was barely visible, as if Alcide was trying to hide it altogether.
A table had been laid at the foot of the bed, complete with more candles and a golden tablecloth. The plates and cutlery were positioned for a formal setting, and the Prince –King– stood next to it, dressed in a uniform of gold and black: a high-necked black jacket with gold buttons in a line from waist to chin and glimmering at both cuffs, with deliciously tight black pants that left little to the imagination, tucked into black boots fastened by a single golden button at the sides.
Alcide’s eyes were lined in gold, and his horns were tipped in some kind of gilding; gold glittered on his fingers and cuffed both his ears. His hair was the only normal thing, sitting slightly mussed over his forehead, lending a rakish air to the military uniform that had me swallowing as heat bloomed on my cheeks.
‘Anna,’ he said politely.
‘How did you do this?’ I blurted.
He gave a half-shrug. ‘Callan and I accessed signals from Earth satellites and did some research. The generators on board did the rest.’ He paused. ‘Do you like it?’
Callan.I glanced across at my black-haired Roth, who inclined his head.His name is Callan.
Knowing his name was like placing the final piece in a finished puzzle; it settled somewhere deep inside me, somewhere beneath my ribs, as if I’d been waiting to know it for years.Callan.
I realised that Alcide was watching me, waiting for my answer. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I managed, truthfully. The room was like a grotto, all draped greenery and swathes of translucent linen. I tugged at my unwashed uniform, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Alcide had clearly prepared for this, and I hadn’t even been able to wash my hair, though the way he was looking at me suggested he didn’t mind.
There was a trolley and tray standing near the table, with a jug of water and some plates of food. One was piled with the charred meat the Roth must have preferred; there were two others, one featuring what looked like an artificial attempt at some kind of carbonara, the other holding two packets of the freeze-dried nutrition Willow had left behind.
‘You cooked for me again?’
Alcide grimaced. ‘I know you didn’t like the last one. We tried again, but you don’t have to eat it.’
‘I’ll try it,’ I said hastily. They’d gone to so much effort, I couldn’tnot. ‘But I can cook for you, if you have a kitchen. If you’ll let me.’
‘You cook?’ Callan said, surprised.
‘I’m a chef. Or, Iwasa chef. I don’t know what I am now.’
‘What do you want to be?’ Alcide said softly.
I flushed. ‘I ah, I don’t really know.’
I felt Callan study my face from the side. ‘What are the options?’
I fidgeted, my face going hot under their combined attention. ‘I could go back to cheffing, or maybe something different. A teacher, or …’ I trailed off. ‘I guess – if I could doanything– I’d go back to university and do further study. A PhD. I’ve beenlooking after my grandmother for years, and I needed a job to support us, so I couldn’t be a student. An opportunity came up to apprentice as a chef, so I did. I love lots of things about it – I genuinely love cooking – but it’s not what’s at the core of my heart.’ I glanced at Callan, who was staring at me, his eyes wide.
