19. The Keeper Switch
The Keeper Switch
We keep kissing, barely coming up for air before connecting again. Like we’re scared stopping for more than a matter of seconds might shatter this. End it forever.
And I want more.
I’m yanking the bedsheet off him. I don’t want there to be anything between us. He leans right over me, enclosing me. I feel flushed, from my neck right up to the hairs on my head. I’m glad he can’t see me.
The truth is, I’d spent nights touching myself in my room while thinking of him. And now, actually being under him…
I push up against him, my hands tangling themselves in his hair.
He’s gone still.
“What do you want, Ara?” he asks, low.
“This,” I say.
“This, or me? Because I’m insane for you. So if you just want sex, I’m not—”
“I want both. This, and you.”
And maybe I said exactly the right thing, because he’s kissing me again, deeper, and a gasp leaves my lips, because his hand is sliding along my waist.
But how experienced is he? By the feel of this kiss…
“But, Cosmer,” I say, my mouth breaking from his. “I haven’t, before. Just so you know.”
His hand freezes.
“Right. Of course. We should end this anyway. This is completely against The Accords—”
No.
I don’t ever want this to end.
I make my thoughts known to him by bringing him closer. Running my hands down his smooth, hard chest. I can feel his heart thudding beneath my fingers.
The Queen’s voice suddenly fills my head. While in Hevalla, you must remain intact.
It’s bizarre.
Did I dream that? Why would the Queen – who I’d thought had never spoken to me at all – have said such a personal thing to me? Why would she even have cared about my virginity? Preserving yourself until marriage is an outdated way of thinking anyway. Only nobles abide by that now.
I shake the thoughts away. They’re from my life from a different time. They don’t belong here, on this ship that isn’t even in Rhavna or Hevalla.
Instead, I focus back on Cosmer, and us. My fingers have reached the waistband of his breeches. I can sense the breath in his mouth faltering.
But he clasps both of his hands gently over mine, keeping them still.
He starts, carefully. “Ara, anything between us has to remain a secret until you’ve FI’d. Or we’ll be out the airlock.”
“I know.”
“I guess it’s not too long to have to do that. If you’re FI’d in a few days—”
“Stop talking,” I say, reaching for his waistband again.
But he blocks me again.
“Listen.” He sucks in a breath. “Let me pleasure you tonight. If you still want me tomorrow, we’ll go from there.”
There’s something I don’t like about that sentence. But my head is too full of thoughts of him, and what’s happening between us, to dwell on it.
“Okay,” I whisper.
With his hands, which feel rough but move gently, he guides me backwards until I’m laying down again.
Slower this time, he moves up my thighs, parting them. His fingers shift my underwear and find the core of me.
I tremble under him as he strokes the sensitive area there in tight, deliberate circles. It’s embarrassing to me that I already feel so wet.
He slides his fingers in.
A soft, lingering moan that doesn’t sound like me – that I never thought I’d make – leaves my mouth.
“Shh,” he says, silencing me with a kiss.
When the bellringer comes by in the morning, and the lights come on, my first thought isn’t about being a prisoner, or the war, or the possibility of bombs.
I feel, for a few seconds at least, content. I’m warm, and I’m safe, and I’m with someone who I think loves me. Someone who I think I love. He’s right behind me, his arm slung around me. We must have fallen asleep like this.
Groaning, he pulls me in closer. Nuzzles into my hair.
I respond by rolling over.
“I wish we didn’t need to get up today,” I say. “I wish it was just us. Here.”
“So do I,” he says, holding me. “You don’t know how much.”
In the light, his face seems so perfect. I mentally trace his freckles. Cheekbones. His hair is mussed but he looks wholesome, fresh, like he’s had the first good night’s sleep in ages. I feel like I have, too.
He’s been studying me at the same time.
“Cosmos. You’re beautiful. Are you sure you’re not a Rhavnan princess?”
“Positive,” I say.
“Could have fooled me. Could have fooled the whole room. Last night.”
My mind instantly goes to my dance with Drake. And I don’t want to be thinking about him right now.
Uneasily, I say, “Let’s not talk about last night anymore.” I add, a little slyly, “Unless it’s about what happened here, in this room.”
His eyes flash. He grabs me by the waist. “Why would we talk about it? When I could just do it to you again?”
I’m already tensing.
I want him to.
And I’m about to say that, but there’s a loud crackling from under us, and then we hear Dezeeves’ voice. “Cosmer?”
He sits up abruptly, swiping the radio from under his pillow.
The radio.
The same radio I was supposed to steal.
Drake must have been waiting all night – only for me not to present the goods. What will he think of me?
“Receiving,” Cosmer says into the speaker.
“Ara is required in The Bridge at thirteen past the hour for her first corrective instruction. Bring her, or tell Riss, will you?”
“Confirmed.”
The static dies.
As does my mood.
I collapse back onto the pillow, covering my face with my hands. It’s stupid, but I actually think I might start crying.
Cosmer lowers himself down to me.
“Ara. It’s going to be okay.”
“They’re going to torture me.”
“I know. I wish I could stop it. I’ve been wracking my brains. But I don’t know how.”
Gradually, he slides a hand under me, shifting me until I’m sheltered again in his arms. I don’t resist. Just rest my head in the crook of his neck.
“I’m scared,” I whisper, to his shoulder. “And I hate feeling like this. I want to be stronger than this.”
He strokes my hair. “Who said being scared meant you aren’t strong?”
I don’t answer.
Seconds pass, and then he says, with resolve, “I’ll come with you. I’ll bring a gun. And I’ll stay with you the whole time. We’ll see what they plan to do to you. And if it's anything we don’t like… Well. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
I grasp him tighter. “Cosmer,” I say, my eyes welling up. “That’s… Thank you.”
But there are flaws. So many flaws.
“What about Drake?”
“Fuck him,” he says, bland.
I wave my hand. “The rules?”
“Fuck them, too. For now.”
Then, he holds out his palm. My ribbon. I thought it had been lost in the bed after… events began.
He opens up my own hand and places it inside. Closes my fingers around it.
“And you can have this back.” He smiles. “Since now I have the real thing to look at.”
We’re last in the Mess Hall for breakfast. We join the end of the queue, but as most people have been served, it only takes a minute. I hand the bowl I’m given straight to Cosmer. We reach Drake and Riss, standing awkwardly by a wall.
Drake’s posture is rigid, and his face is murderous. I keep my distance and my eyes averted, worried he might smell what transpired between Cosmer and I last night on me. See my betrayal on my face.
I hate that I’ve let him down. I fold my arms, my insides writhing, and try to look anywhere but at him, even though his eyes remain firmly on me.
Riss’ expression isn’t sunny either. She’s holding out her pocket watch.
“What time do you call this?”
“We got held up,” Cosmer tells her. “A message came in for Ara. She has corrective instruction later.”
Riss’ scowl deepens. “Why is Dezeeves sending you messages for Ara, and not me?”
“He must know she… sleeps with me.”
I blush and cast a nervous look around. How obvious are we being? This feels so dangerous.
“And, about that,” Cosmer continues. He looks right at me. “I’m proposing a keeper switch.”
“What?” Riss yells.
Cosmer rounds on her. “Hear me out. Drake and I...” He stops. Starts again. “I’ve done my part. Taken him to drills and the Training Room. Introduced him to the pilots. Got him off on a good foot with them.”
He combs a hand through his hair, which still looks mussed. I wonder how mine must look. I didn’t have time to brush it properly, just tied it over my shoulder with my ribbon.
“I’ve shown him everything I can,” he continues. “He’s seen the ship. He’s a good fighter – which is a bit irrelevant, since his blood magic stops anyone from being a good opponent. He corrects me when I’m flying a hawker, so there’s nothing for him to learn there—”
“Are you mocking me?” Drake inputs.
Cosmer says, in a serious tone, “No. Are you not listening? I’m complimenting you. You’re the better man, through and through, and we’re very lucky to have you.”
He actually gives him a friendly slap on the back.
What is happening?
Drake recoils from Cosmer’s touch.
“Cosmer—” Riss tries to cut in.
Cosmer ploughs on – fast, words tripping over each other.
“Riss – I’m sure you could show Drake some of what you do in Intelligence.
Who knows, maybe he’ll even crack that code for you, since he can do everything else.
And if you take him down to the Training Room later, I’m sure the other pilots will keep an eye on him for you for a while—”
Riss finally manages to get a word in. “We have Integration plans,” she says, producing my book with an irritated flick of her wrist. “And I’ve been working really hard on mine.
Plus, Ara is needed in Intelligence. Dezeeves placed her with me because he thought she had skills that would help us win this war—”
“Ara, what are your skills that Dezeeves thinks will help us win this war?”
“I can speak a few languages,” I reply. “More than a few.”
He nods. “Great. And Riss can hear every message that comes in on every radio in her room, and let’s not forget she also has an excellent memory, seeing as how she can remember every mistake we’ve all ever made.
” He pauses for breath – only for a second.
“And we already have Rhavnan translators. So, if, say, the Lorallahans or the Crallians decide, today, to get involved in this war and send us a message of unwavering support or imminent bombing – I’m completely positive Riss will be able to copy it down for you to translate. ”
He exhales, hard. Smiles.
And I’m thrilled.
“So, we all have nothing to worry about. Right?” Briskly, he finds my arm and slots his fingers between mine. “Let’s go, Ara. I’ll show you my ship.”
We start walking off, our hands entwined before Cosmer seems to realise that’s probably not a good idea and lets go.
How are we going to keep our hands off each other all day?
Behind us, Riss yells, “But, the plans!”
Cosmer takes me down to the same docking pod we entered the ship on and closes the hatch behind us. It muffles the sound of clunking and chatter from the hallway.
Instantly, I feel relief. It’s so different when it’s just the two of us.
His ship is still there in the middle of the small windowless space, well-lit by the Lartosi laser lights in the walls. It makes the brown metal shine. Sharpens the look of its wings.
“This is Bumble,” he says, throwing out an arm, as if the ship is a person I’m being introduced to. “You didn’t properly get to see her when we came down, did you? There was a lot going on. And it was getting dark.”
“Don’t tell me you named your ship.”
“Lovely, isn’t she?”
I eye the ship up and down. These futuristic machines I only associate with war still make me uncomfortable.
“I don’t know enough about ships to know either way. But, sure.”
He takes my hands in his.
“I didn’t really take you here to admire my ship. I just wanted to take you somewhere we could be alone.” He strokes his thumb over my wrist. “I don’t know how long we’ll be able to be together. There’s nothing about switching keepers in The Accords. But if Riss complains to Dezeeves…”
“It’s all right. I’m just glad we get to spend more time together. Even if it’s just for today.” I let a faint smile cross my face. “Although, you know you were a little rude up there, don’t you?”
He looks sheepish. “I know. I’ll apologise to Riss later. I just… I couldn’t be separated from you today. Not when I had to go without you for three years. And now I know you like me back…”
“I feel the same,” I admit. “But telling Drake he’s the better man! His face—”
Cosmer’s smile dies.
“He is, though, isn’t he?”
A beat.
“No,” I say. “Never.”
I watch Cosmer’s throat, bobbing as it swallows.
“Last night,” I start. “You said something to me I thought was strange.” Studying his face like it’s a test, I say, “You said if I still wanted you tomorrow, then we’d go from there. What did you mean by that?”
His cheekbones pierce his cheeks. “I meant exactly that. If you still wanted me, in the light of day, completely sober…” He adds, wincing, “And when Drake is around—”
“Don’t say his name.”
He lets go of my fingers. “How can I not? It’s like he’s here. I saw the way he was looking at you just now. He knows full well what’s going on.”
“Well,” I say, playful. “We did walk off holding hands.”
He’s serious. “Honestly, Ara. He’s, well, the obvious things aside, he’s like you. He knows the dances, and whatever else. He’s from your home. I could never compete with that, because I’m not.”
Keeping my features composed, I step forwards. Tilt my face up to his.
“You’re my home.”
I close the distance between us. Kiss him softly, delicately, my hand on his chest.
I pull away a fraction. Enjoy the smile he’s giving me, like I’m everything he ever wanted. It’s how I must look, to him, too.
“Well?” I say, jerking my head at the ship. “Aren’t you going to show me the inside?”