The Girl Who Fell From The Sky - Rebecca Royce Page 0,41

the shaft itself was cased in a material that looked…familiar. Like starship insulation? Could some of these tunnels have been dug early on, right after the prison ships landed or crashed here?

My secret knowledge weighed on me, and I wished I could share it, talk about it, but I had no idea how that would change any of these relationships. Truthfully, I was too scared to try.

While Mattis heated his branding tool, I looked around for a place to sit, but this room wasn’t Mattis’ bar. There weren’t tables and chairs and nice, comfy places to rest my arm while he mutilated it. I perched myself on the edge of Nox’s bed, down by his feet so the smell from the branding wouldn’t bother him too much.

I glanced up to find Torrin looking at me, though not with his usual scowl. This time, he had laughter in his eyes. “You may use the throne in the anteroom if you require a more suitable chair.”

“Yikes, no,” I replied before even thinking. “Also, how did you know what I was thinking?”

He exchanged a look with Astor, and both men cracked up. Laughter looked wrong on Torrin, but it was also comforting on a deep level. Which I didn’t want to think about right now.

“You have what the elders call a speaking face,” Mattis explained, testing the heat on his branding tool.

This time, Dreama didn’t bother to hide her eye-roll. “Can we just get on with this? I’m starving, and I’ll wager she is, too.”

“Don’t rush the artist,” Mattis said, letting a droplet of water fall on the tool and judging the instant steam.

“It’s not art,” Dreama said. “It’s inhumane.”

“Oh, why don’t you tell us what you really think?” Astor said, but I had been watching Torrin, and the laughter was gone from his expression. Instantly. The black clouds had drifted back into his eyes.

“Dreama, this is our custom. Be silent, and do not harass Mattis,” he said.

Astor shook his head. “Not to mention you would kill for this to happen for you if you could find someone who fit all your requirements.”

Now that was interesting. I regarded Dreama. She was very pretty and would probably look feminine under all that armor. But maybe femininity held different meaning here? “What are your requirements?”

“I need to not have known the person since I was born.”

Mattis pressed the brand down on my skin. I winced, but it wasn’t bad. “Whose numbers are those?”

“Mine,” Nox supplied, clearly proud, even though he looked like he was about to fall over asleep.

“We will affix the marks in the order in which we met you,” Mattis said. “That’s the custom when a woman takes more than one husband. Granted, it’s unusual to mark all the claims at the same time. Usually families take months or years to arrange themselves. Just another way you’re special, B.”

“Except for my mark,” Torrin said, “since it was already there, mine will be first. And I also claim first night.”

Astor made a strangled sound and looked like he was about to protest, but then he must have caught the humor in Torrin’s eyes, and he just shrugged. They did that a lot, I was beginning to realize, the back-and-forth arguing underpinned by love. Maybe that was just how brothers behaved. Brent and I certainly snipped at each other, though I couldn’t say there was a lot of love beneath it.

I looked back at Dreama, wresting the subject back to her future plans. “There are other City-States. Surely you could…”

She winced. “Hard to fall in love with someone that my brother might kill any second. And believe it or not, I think our City-State might be the best of the bunch. Women don’t fare so well in other places. And I know I said I just wanted someone I didn’t know, but it’s more than that. I want someone who challenges me. Who I don’t always agree with but that’s okay. Who I can argue with and sometimes lose.”

So maybe the arguing itself was a way people expressed affection around here. Odd, but also kind of sweet. It sure took the edge off of the seemingly constant state of conflict.

On the bed, Nox had started snoring lightly. I looked over. He’d passed out, as if he’d been keeping himself awake just long enough to watch me become his.

“We should leave him be,” Astor said. “He is still healing and needs rest.”

“Almost done.” Mattis laid in the next number as gently as he could. It did