Chapter 19 #2
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, Torian,” she said quietly. “It’s not an excuse, but—”
“You needed armor to survive.” Torian offered a sad smile.
Amelia grimaced. “The Fleet gave me a place to belong when I had nothing—but they expect a lot in return. I have to be someone worthy of my post, or I’ll lose everything.”
Torian thought back to the times she’d seen peripherally—the spats between cutthroat crewmembers that Amelia stopped just by showing up.
She was well established as a respected, sometimes feared captain by the time Torian boarded her ship, but Torian had spent enough time working security to know that any high-ranking Fleet position had been earned through violence.
Today, Amelia had shot a man without warning, just to protect someone peripherally related to her crew.
For the first time, Torian began to wonder if Amelia liked that armor—or if it was just as suffocating as Torian’s own responsibilities.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’ve done a good job. Your ship always felt safe,” Torian said quietly.
Amelia laughed, the sound hollow. “Sure.” She stared at the view through the big windows.
“I didn’t like who I had to become—but by the time I realized that, it was too late.
Then I met you, and … I don’t know. You haven’t let the world change you.
You’re still hopeful and determined and you see the best in everyone. It was…” She trailed off.
“Terrifying?” Torian supplied, almost teasing.
“Refreshing,” Amelia countered, rolling her eyes.
Well, that was something. Torian sank to the mattress, crossing her ankles in front of her. Her boots were almost touching Amelia’s now. She picked at a thread on the blanket, feeling too embarrassed to meet Amelia’s gaze. Up until now, Torian had just assumed Amelia thought she was cute.
Apparently, it was a lot more than that.
It made Torian both flattered and frustrated.
“Why did you demote me to scrap?” Torian finally asked. “Was it because I got shot on the job, or because … because of our kiss the week before?”
She expected Amelia to pull out a sarcastic statement about Torian’s skill set in security, about how she was a liability to herself and the crew, about how Amelia hadn’t lost a crewmember yet and didn’t plan to start now—all the same excuses Amelia had given when Torian demanded answers the first time.
Now, though, Amelia drew a breath through her nose and met Torian’s gaze. “I demoted you for both those reasons.”
Both.
“I’m confused. You kissed me first. Did you regret it that much?” Torian asked, cheeks burning. She wanted to push this line of questioning under the blanket beneath her, shove it so far into the darkness that neither of them had to be embarrassed by it.
But she’d also spent six months wondering about this, never able to ask. If Amelia was offering answers now, Torian had to seize them.
For her own sanity, if nothing else.
She hoped Amelia would deny it, but Amelia’s gaze was remorseful. “I regret a lot of things.” When Torian winced, Amelia rested her fingers on the mattress, very close to Torian’s. “Hang on. Not you.”
“No?” Torian didn’t move.
Amelia grimaced, quiet now, as if parsing through her thoughts. “No. I mean, I regret leading you on. You were just so … different. My life felt a lot simpler when you were around.”
“Hmm.” Torian didn’t really have anything to contribute to that. Her life got a lot more complicated when Amelia started showing interest.
“But I didn’t mean to—” Amelia cursed softly, restarting. “I couldn’t help kissing you. But that’s not something I do. Well, kissing, sure, but not with someone I actually like—I mean, I do kiss people I like, but with you, it felt—”
This was almost as much of a disaster as when Torian talked about romance—and coming from Amelia, it was both adorable and hilarious. To save Amelia’s ego, Torian held up a hand, laughing a bit. “It’s okay, Ames. I get it.”
“You don’t get it. That’s why we’re here.
” Amelia withdrew, running one hand through her short hair.
“My position within the Fleet is everything. I can’t leave, and anyone close to me might be at risk.
If the Luminas start a war, they won’t attack me—they’ll find the people I …
um.” She cut herself off, clamping her mouth shut before the inevitable final word.
Love.
How curious.
Part of Torian felt relieved to finally get confirmation. It had been such whiplash to start a budding romance with the charismatic Princess of the Fleet, only to be shot, demoted, and ignored a week later. Hearing that Amelia regretted how she’d acted was satisfying.
Torian hadn’t been making things up. They really did have chemistry.
The timing just wasn’t right.
Problem was, all those nice words didn’t fix the stress Torian had gone through. She felt bad for Amelia, absolutely; being forced from her home on a lie, dropped on a foreign space station, and muscled into a smuggling ring was nothing short of traumatic.
But at any point, Amelia could have just … come clean about the risks. Asked for Torian’s opinion, rather than assuming what was best for her. Except Amelia didn’t choose that path, and Torian suffered her rejection for months.