Bonds of Brass (The Bloodright Trilogy #1) - Emily Skrutskie Page 0,20
running.
* * *
—
We make it back to the room unspotted, but I’m not celebrating our luck yet. I lock the door behind us, and by the time I turn around, Gal’s already stripped down and started rooting in his drawers. “Now what?” he asks, pulling out a primly folded pair of pants.
“You’re asking me?” I sputter.
He turns, surprised by the harshness of my tone.
“Look at yourself. If it weren’t for the way everyone’s losing their goddamn minds, I wouldn’t even believe you’re a prince. You have no plan, no backups, no…sense.”
“I…” Gal stares at the pants in his hand, plucking absently at a bit of lint. “I have you,” he mumbles. “I was supposed to have more. There was a whole system to protect me, and it fell apart the moment I actually needed it. But you were there. I don’t know what’s happening right now. I don’t know where’s safe, or what I’m supposed to do, or even who to trust. But I have you. Right?”
My heart stutters. Gal’s been shaken. Yesterday he had twenty people gunning for him, and gods know how many more enemies lurk in these halls. The sleepers meant to protect him have disappeared. I almost tell him what I found in Jana’s room, but I know it’s only going to worsen his focus, and I need him sharp. There’s nothing we can do for her when we’ve barely got a plan for ourselves.
Something larger is in motion, sinister mechanics turning with Gal at the center. He’s spent the past two and a half years training as a soldier and a leader, and in the span of a day he’s been torn away from everything he was working toward, stuffed into a fancy robe and slippers, and placed under guard to wait until he’s called on.
Gal’s had his life stolen from him. He’s just hoping there’s a way to put it back together.
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Put your damn pants on. We’ll figure this out.”
He follows orders, but I know him well enough to know I haven’t put his mind at ease. If the way his eyes fix pointedly on the floor is any indication, Gal’s thoughts are eating him alive. “Ettian,” he says as he grabs a T-shirt and yanks it over his head. “I can jack a shuttle by myself and get out of here.”
“Can you, though?”
“Ettian.” He nods to my bed, to the two bags packed there. Only one of them is for him.
The walls of this room feel too close. Gal’s eyes too intent. I take a deep breath, pulling on a tank as I try to prolong the inevitable. But he already knows exactly what I’m going to say.
“You can’t leave the academy,” Gal says. “You’ve worked so hard—you’re the top pilot in our class. They’re going to give you a dreadnought command someday.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s nothing. You’re going to be an emperor. And look—I know you better than anyone. I know the kind of ruler you’re going to be, the difference you’re going to make. Getting you on that throne is a thousand times more important than anything I could ever accomplish at this stupid school.”
I drop onto my bunk, pulling the bag I’ve packed into my lap to avoid looking at whatever that declaration has done to Gal’s face. I can never double-check my gear enough, even though there’s only one thing worth taking from this room. My fingers sink to the bottom of the bag, brushing velvet.
“Ettian.” Suddenly Gal’s right in front of me, those deep brown eyes staring with every ounce of their intensity, his knees inches from mine.
“Don’t,” I groan, stifling a laugh. I don’t know when this was decided. Was it when I realized what Gal’s rule would mean for the galaxy? When I locked my Viper to his? When I shook his hand on that first day in this room?
I’m going with him. I’m not letting him do this alone. And I’m not letting him leave me behind.