warm-skinned and slight-framed in a way that tells me he did most of his growing on Archon rations. I’d call him handsome if he didn’t look way too chipper for the hour of the morning. “Name’s Sims,” he continues. “I’ve been assigned to escort you for the first few days to get you acclimated to the base. I’m also your security, so uh…don’t try anything funny, I guess?”
He gets the pair of blank looks and blinks he deserves.
“Right then,” he says, unfazed. “Breakfast. Onward!”
Sims leads the way, guiding us down the stairwell and out of the dorms. Gal keeps his gaze turned pointedly away from me the whole time. Calming him this morning feels like a distant dream, and all it took was the mention of Wen’s name. I know he’s scared. I know he’s stressed. And I know he’s not convinced we need to keep Wen around. But even though I promised I’m with him, I can’t abandon her a second time. Gal needs me, but Wen needs somebody—anybody—on her side.
We rendezvous with her and her guard in the cafeteria, which is already packed with soldiers and choked with a smell I don’t clock as familiar until I see Gal wrinkle his nose at it and realize he’s never encountered genuine Archon food before. Wen gives me a smile that matches the buttery sunlight streaming through the windows. She’s dressed in her tattered clothes from yesterday, and I make a mental note to see if the resistance can outfit her with something better.
“Sleep well?” Wen asks, nudging a bony elbow into my ribs as we hop into the mess line.
My self-pitying chuckle gets stuck in my throat when I catch the conflicted pinch of Gal’s brows. He squares his shoulders, and for a terrifying moment I’m seized by the impulse to step between them before the inevitable brawl breaks out. But then Gal’s soft, apologetic smile splits his face, and he says, “Wen, I’m sorry. I heard about what happened last night, and I’m glad Ettian caught you before it was too late.”
Wen pauses, her hand outstretched over a pile of toast. “Thanks,” she says, then claws a handful of slices together, to the horror of the cafeteria staff.
Gal shrugs as if to say, Good enough. He looks relieved, and it lightens the tension between us marginally. But then his gaze shifts to the long tables of the mess hall, and his jaw clenches.
If we had any remaining illusions about this being a scrappy group of freedom fighters, they’re shattered by the number of people in this room. The facilities could be explained by the Corinthian sponsorship. All those impressive buildings could be empty. But here’s the future of the empire’s revival, chowing down and making rowdy noise as they jostle their way through their mornings. General Iral doesn’t just have a fancy compound.
He has an army.
An army we’ll have to destroy.
As we move toward an empty table, one of the soldiers catches my eye and gestures invitingly to the empty space next to her and her companions. I try to adjust my course, but a tug on my jacket’s hem brings me up short. “We can’t interact with them,” Gal whispers urgently against my ear.
“We need intel. We need to actually talk to these people.”
He gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “We can’t afford to get close. You especially.”
The notion rankles me. “What do you mean by that?” I let a dangerous edge into my tone. If he doesn’t trust me to talk to these people because he thinks I’ll abandon him, he has another think coming.
“Ettian, I’m not worried about your loyalty. I’m worried about your heart.”
I stiffen, caught between the delight of being known so well and the shame of it. Of course Gal would notice how this situation tears me in half. Of course he would care about what it’s doing to me, to be here in the midst of a rebellion for an empire I thought was long dead. I don’t know why it’s become so surprising to realize that Gal is as invested in my well-being as I am in his.