Chapter 20 – Alone on a Platform #3
So I figured I might as well put on a show.
I rolled my shoulders, popped a few joints, paced back and forth, slow at first and then faster.
It helped, being up and shifting around.
I worked my way through a series of careful stretches, twisting and turning.
Inch by inch, I started to feel more like myself, even as I was aware that I was being watched and scrutinized.
I poured myself some more water, rolled my neck, and then did a few quick sword sequences in the small space of my room.
I eyed the place where the pole was hidden, but I didn't trust myself enough to be upside down just yet.
All I needed was a little movement to put me back inside the confines of my body.
I spent an indulgent length of time standing in the shower, letting steam gather on my skin until it became little rivulets of water cascading downwards. Once I was dripping, I scoured my body in an attempt to strip back all the strangeness I felt until it was just me again.
My reflection in the mirror was startling: there were no lingering marks to show how thoroughly I'd been broken. I forced myself to stare into my own dark eyes in the mirror, taking stock. Maybe I looked a little haunted, but that could have been the dramatic lighting in the bathroom.
Did I feel haunted? Was I rattled?
It was so hard to say. I knew I'd thrown a wrench into things, but somehow I'd gotten us an ally, and with the Tournament drawing nearer by the minute, we'd need the help.
I'd also committed more fully to being Enemy #1 of Seraphim and its affiliated business ventures. So that was less good.
I was also a little shaken by how easily Grigor had dropped me, and then almost killed me. Araxis moved like an avenging angel. I was more like a lump, bleeding and vulnerable – a hindrance.
It wouldn't be like that in the Tournament, though. I'd have my swords, and I'd be present in the moment, instead of trying to act and manipulate and provoke someone into violence for my own ends.
And we'd be together, Araxis and I. A team. I knew how good it felt, how easy it was, when we danced through the sequences; how we understood each other's instincts, our movements, our bodies.
We'd be safe together.
All I needed to do now was propose an alliance, officially and on camera.
I got dressed, pulling on something soft and comfortable with one of my lumpy sweaters – the gray one with different length sleeves – on top.
When I stepped into the hygiene room, my eyes landed on the place where I'd hidden that note Araxis had written me.
I pulled it out, looking at the precise letters again. I have you. I'm yours.
I had to stop for a moment, my heart throbbing as I leaned against the wall and pressed that silly piece of paper to my chest. I could almost hear him breathing against my skin. I'm yours, he'd murmured. You're mine.
Maybe I had lied to Silver Sea, more than I’d meant to.
I didn't think I was falling in love with him; I was, and I knew it.
There, in the one tiny sliver of privacy I was allowed, I could admit that much to myself even if the thought made me feel raw, vulnerable.
I inhaled deep and slow, and tucked the note back underneath the jar before braving the room outside.
All that was left was to see Araxis. I fussed with my hair a little to make it look half-decent, and then I pulled up the interface on my wristband and typed out a message.
I'm up and about and very much alive, thanks to you. Could I come and see you? And then, on impulse and as if he didn't already know who the message was from, Yours, Sashen.
I waited, inexplicably nervous, as if he might ever say no. But I didn't need to wait long. His reply came soon enough and simply said, Yes, please come.
So I was off to speak with my own prince charming.
The first thing I said to him was, "I'm sorry." I blurted it out the moment the door opened, and I could only hope that he understood that I meant my hasty apology in layers.
I was sorry I'd been reckless. I was sorry I'd made him worry. I was sorry I'd been weak and had fucked up our timeline.
I was sorry he'd had to see me like that.
He stood in the dark doorway to his room, his eyes black and endless, his skin washed out of its iridescence, bone white and flat.
His hand rested on the door frame, his fingers tightening against the unyielding polymer.
For a moment, I thought he would send me away – he looked at me as though I were a ghost or a monster or perhaps just a massive fucking disappointment – but then Araxis stepped forward, closing the gap between us.
One hand curled around the back of my neck, possessive and certain, the other grasping at my lower back so that he could draw me in fully against his body.
He pressed his cheek against mine, firm; his chest expanded as he drew in a long, hard breath.
"I never wish to see you bleed again," he hissed against my ear, breath cool, and I shivered then in the too-bright lights of the hallway, my eyes fluttering shut. I drew in a deep breath of my own, and let myself get dizzy with the scent of him.
My throat was tight as I forced down the words I wanted to say, biting them back and swallowing them down. I didn't deserve to say words like that, and I certainly didn't deserve to hear them. I didn't even deserve his kindness.
I couldn't trust myself to say anything, so I was quiet. I just let Araxis hold me, and I allowed myself to be held, to lean against him there in the corridor on Thenat-6.
Finally, he shifted, slowly sliding his hands away from me, and I regretted the loss of his touch immediately. "Come inside," he murmured.
I nodded, and then tipped my head forward and kissed him, soft and gentle, my hand drifting to touch his jaw.
I stroked my thumb against his smooth skin, and when I leaned back, his eyes were wide and bright.
"Thank you for saving me," I murmured, "and I am sorry.
" Then, with a curling smile, I added, "I'm sure you've missed me very much.
Who have you been practicing with, Neern?
You are pretty good at slicing and dicing. "
He tried to trill in amusement, but the sound seemed to get stuck in his throat, so Araxis just inclined his head and stepped back into his dim room. I trailed behind, nudging the door shut.
"Sit," he said in his usual way, gesturing toward a sofa with a low back.
So I sat and I watched as he disappeared into a room beyond – I couldn't help but notice that, while the layout of this primary room was similar to mine, he appeared to have additional spaces; I guess space princes got everything after all, and sexy dancers didn't – before he emerged with, predictably, a tray with a teapot and two cups.
I looked away in a sudden and uncharacteristic fit of shyness. "You're always so good at taking care of me." I hoped he heard in my voice that I said if for him, not for the cameras. That I meant it, deep in my core.
"I wish that were so." Araxis settled next to me, carefully pouring a cup of tea: green and smelling bright and sharp. "I should have stopped Spade earlier. It was my mistake –"
"Don't," I said, reaching to take the cup from his hands.
"Anyone else would have let him just murder me.
One less person to worry about in the arena, right?
Or two, I guess. Araxis, I know – I know that you saved my life.
I –" Real emotion caught in my throat, and I had to stare daggers at the tea to try and stop my eyes from stinging.
"No one's ever really put themselves out there for me. Ever."
As I said it, I realized it was true. Alet Trident hadn't immediately turned me back to Seraphim when I'd been a teenage stowaway, sure, but that was because she saw a way she could make a profit from me.
As soon as the debt came in, she'd turned the other way.
Who else had there been? A few friends who'd fronted me some credits when I was light, but who always came to collect.
Khrelen sometimes let me have the pick of clients when we scoped things out from backstage because he said he felt bad that I was a sad little human instead of a strapping dalloid in his prime.
And that was it. But Araxis had given me a seat on his ship and a place to call home, and he'd agreed to make all my worries his own.
He did it without asking for anything in return, except that I help him in here.
And that had felt, on the ship, like my idea: I was already going to be here, and if I could do him some good, if I could do the creche some good, that made being here feel meaningful, at least.
My jaw worked, tense, as I chewed over the words I wanted to say, and couldn't. What I wanted to thank him for, but couldn't acknowledge. How I wanted to ask him to keep me close, once this was all over –
"I would ask your permission to protect you, now and in the arena.
" Araxis had shifted closer, his own tea cooling on the tray as his hands settled firmly on my knee.
I blinked up at him and his face was a portrait of seriousness, features tight.
Beneath his words was a whine of distress, like an undercurrent.
Why was he upset? "I wish very much to keep you safe always, Sashen.
We have known each other only a short time, but you are dear to me.
I will cherish you, if you declare for me. "
His body was curved toward me, taut like a bowstring. "Of course I want your help," I said gently.
"Declare yourself for me," he repeated, fingers tightening on my knee. "Sashen, please. I will keep you safe. I cannot bear to see you suffer."
"What does that mean?" I asked, confused. I searched his eyes, but they were only big and black, tense at the corners. Still, I heard the keening subvocal, a sharp sound that made my skin prickle.