seizures after their managers told them they’d been contracted to fight him.
He paused as he looked at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
Talyn hesitated. In spite of her response, she was obviously upset. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. It’s all good.”
But it wasn’t. And that made him ache deep inside. Was it his birth standing?
That made sense. It was the most common thing held against him by the world. And it was why he refused to give interviews. First question was invariably about lineage, then next how his parents felt about his fighting record. Whenever he answered that he had no father, it made them gasp and step back like he was a disease carrier. The second evoked pity, and he hated that most of all.
So he’d learned to keep himself isolated and avoid or deflect awkward questions like a crotch plague. He’d hoped a companion wouldn’t make him have to tiptoe through land mines and guard every word he spoke.
Obviously, he’d been wrong. You know better than to speak to others, dumbass. How stupid are you that you can’t ever be taught?
Why had he thought anything could change? That she, a paid companion, wouldn’t be bothered by his social standing? If he’d learned anything in life it should be that his sheer force of will didn’t matter for Andarion shite. In the eyes of his race, he was garbage and that was all he’d ever be.
Feeling daunted, he withdrew into himself and put more space between them. Fuck it. He couldn’t change their culture.
Or her mind or morals.
Lesson learned. He’d just get through this meal in as much silence as he could manage, and return to base. Let her live out the next six months in his condo, and then he could go back to what he knew.
What he was used to.
She took his jacket off and handed it to him. No doubt, she didn’t want it touching her skin and contaminating her. Heartsick, he shrugged it on, and gestured toward the café door.
Felicia hesitated, wondering about his suddenly withdrawn mood. He was very reserved and stern now. Quiet. Even more so than when he’d been waiting for her at the agency. Did he have a chemical imbalance?
A little frightened by his unwarranted somber mood, she entered the small café first, and immediately noticed how many Andarions cut Talyn a wide berth. He paid them no attention as he sat her toward the back.
“Major,” the waiter said as he brought menus for them. “Tara.”
“Thank you.” Felicia opened the menu while Talyn set his down on the table. She peeked over the top of hers to find him staring at the floor. “Is something wrong?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Not used to having lunch with someone.”
“You don’t normally eat with your friends?”
“Don’t have any.”
She scowled at his emotionless tone. “None?”
“I’m a bastard,” he said simply.
“Yeah? So am I.” Yet she had a ton of friends. Well… depending on the time of the month.
“Your father isn’t an Outcast, Felicia. I have no paternal lineage. At all. My caste class is -12-6.”
“Oh.” Yeah, that would be a problem in a society that placed high importance and all personal value on dual family lineages. The only thing lower than his standing was an Outcast male.
Something no Andarion wanted to be.
While her parents had never married, both her mother and father came from elite noble families with very prestigious standings. Her caste was miles above his, which was even more rare on Andaria. Females always took care to tie themselves to males who were either equal to or above them in standing. The only exception being the royal eton Anatoles, who, as the ruling family, were the highest caste in their empire.
His eyes filled with remorse, Talyn shifted in his seat. When he spoke, there was no emotion in his tone at all. “If you want to terminate your contract with me before I taint you, I’ll understand. You won’t have to worry. I’ll pay the severance fees and you can go back to your agency.”
“Talyn,” she breathed, touching his hand. “I don’t care about your father or his standing. I’m more than happy to be here with you.”
Before he could respond, the waiter returned with water. “Are you ready to order?”
Talyn inclined his head to her. “What would you like, mu tara?”
You on a platter.
Unfortunately, Talyn tartare wasn’t one of her options. “I’m not sure. What do you recommend?”
“I’m in training, so all I’m eating is lean white meat with nothing on it and whatever plain grain they