Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,194

Brigitte had told her the beginning of this story, but somehow, she knew what to say now that Etienne had completed it.

“Merci.”

Etienne’s eyebrows pinched together. “For what?”

“For telling me.”

His expression softened, looking almost embarrassed. “Well, you know … I did think I was going to die in this ship with you flying it, so I figured I better unburden myself before my trip to the Sols.”

Chatine laughed politely. “Good thinking.”

He breathed out a heavy sigh. “I miss him. Every day.”

Chatine nodded, whispering the same words that Dead Azelle had whispered to her last night at the linking cérémonie. “I know.”

“He was my mother’s first patient.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She never got to work with patients when she was a cyborg, because she was assigned to medical research. But Papa arrived at our old camp shortly after she did. And since he was Third Estate, naturally he needed a Skin removal, so Maman did it. They used to tell this funny story about how he woke up in his goldenroot haze and fell instantly in love with her. And she told him, ‘Wait until the herbs wear off, and then we’ll talk.’ ” Out of the corner of her eye, Chatine noticed a ghost of a smile on his face. “I guess it wasn’t just the goldenroot, because I was born less than a year later.”

Chatine tried to match his fragile amusement. “Wow.”

Etienne huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. I guess when you know, you know.”

This time, when Chatine glanced at him, he was staring right at her, his gaze ready to capture hers.

“You know?” he whispered.

She turned away, unable to answer. Instead, she kept her gaze locked out the cockpit window and her hands wrapped tightly around the contrôleur.

Seconds passed. Possibly even minutes. Chatine didn’t know. The sky out here seemed to consume time like a void.

“Why do you do that?” Etienne broke the silence, his voice no longer heavy and burdened, but light and inquisitive.

“Do what?”

“Touch your finger like that. I’ve seen you do it a few times. Like you’re expecting something to be there.”

Chatine peered down at the controls to see her forefinger was running up and down the side of her thumb again, searching for Marcellus’s ring. She hadn’t even realized she’d been doing it. “Oh,” she said clumsily. “I … just … I used to have a ring. I lost it somewhere when I left Bastille. It’s just … I guess I still touch the skin out of habit. It’s stupide.”

“A ring?” Etienne asked, still staring at her finger.

Feeling self-conscious, Chatine repositioned her hands on the contrôleur so her naked thumb was concealed. “I wouldn’t normally wear one, it’s just that this was …” she trailed off. For some reason, the thought of telling Etienne about Marcellus felt wrong. Like the two existed in separate galaxies, and should they ever be in the same one together, the whole universe might explode. Or at the very least, the universe that lived inside Chatine’s mind.

“… It belonged to someone I used to know,” she finally finished. “And I promised to keep it safe for them.”

There was no response, and when Chatine glanced over at the jump seat again, Etienne was no longer there. Keeping her hands firmly on the contrôleur, she looked over her shoulder to find him rummaging around in a cabinet in the rear of the cockpit. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I didn’t know what it was. I found it when I was cleaning out the ship a few days ago. I should have guessed it belonged to you. The thought just never crossed my mind.”

Chatine held her breath as Etienne made his way back across the cockpit. She wanted to close her eyes. Forever. She wanted to disappear so she didn’t have to see or feel or hear the implosion that she knew was coming. But when Etienne appeared beside her, his hand outstretched, she forced her eyes to stay open. She forced herself to look at the tiny, silver ring.

Marcellus’s ring.

Cupped protectively in Etienne’s outstretched palm.

“Sorry,” he murmured, clearly misinterpreting the conflict that was playing out on her face. “I would have given it to you sooner. I forgot it was even in here.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Chatine reached out and prodded the ring with her fingertip. The touch of the metal burned her skin like ice and fire and snow and rain all combined into one.

“Here,” Etienne said innocently. “Allow me.”

And before Chatine could argue, her hand was clasped in his. The ring was pinched between his fingers. And