Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(41)

Shanti gave the Captain an irritated stare. “The fabric gets in the way of sleeping.”

“You aren’t sleeping. Put it on.”

“No.”

“You’re causing an awkward situation between Sanders and Junice at present. It’s not very nice.”

Shanti glanced at Sanders and sighed. “Why is this nation so worried about nudity?”

“Humor us.”

As she crossed the room, moving like a panther, she picked up the fabric and slid it over her head. Sanders tried desperately not to memorize the look of billowing gray material flowing over perky, well-formed br**sts. He also tried not to watch the cloth as it made its way—

The room filled with the sound of a head repeatedly banging against the door.

“I have no funnies, so I don’t need an audience,” she said, returning to the window.

“Jokes,” the Captain supplied. He seemed to find her black mood entertaining.

“I want out of this room.” Shanti’s eyes focused on the trees.

“You’re not healed.”

“I’m healed enough to leave this room.”

“Where would you go?”

“The park.”

“Then?”

Shanti was quiet. She was no longer welcome at Sanders’ house. A foreign na**d woman fighting with the also na**d man of the house in the middle of the night was not something wives got over. Or forgot about. Shanti understood that.

“It’s time for you to tell me who you are,” the Captain asserted, taking a chair.

Sanders preferred to stand. He was still uncomfortably tight in his groin.

“Is your wife okay?” Shanti asked suddenly, turning to face the Captain. Her eyes flicked to Sanders. “And Junice? Is she okay? And your bairn?”

“Our barn?” Sanders asked in confusion.

“Child. Baby. Little ‘un. Bairn.”

“How did you…”

The Captain’s eyes swiveled to Sanders with a question. Sanders answered them both. “She’s fine. They are both okay, as far as the doctor can tell.”

The Captain nodded in a congratulatory sort of way. Shanti turned her gaze back to the Captain. “And your family? Did they get to safety in time?”

Sanders was still confused. Surely she knew the Captain had lost his parents—or else why would he be Captain?

“Unfortunately, I have no family to speak of.” The Captain’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Sanders could see a little of the leftover vulnerability from the conversation with Lucius. Sanders shifted uncomfortably as the Captain went on—being in this room was worse than the last. “If you are asking about Tanicia, she’s okay, as is her family, as far as I’ve heard. There were no civilian casualties.”

Tanicia? If Sanders remembered correctly, that was a short brunette with great curves and a giant rack. Why—Oh. He must’ve had company the night Shanti barged into his house. A passing fad, just like all his girlfriends. The man changed women like underwear.

The Captain stared at Shanti, his face blank. She stared back. Communication of the silent variety trickled between them until Shanti’s face dropped.

“That rat bastard!” she exclaimed suddenly. Sanders flinched and reached for his sword before he could stop himself. “I’m not beautiful in your culture. Fine. But he didn’t have the fornicas to tell me to my face he didn’t desire me? Instead he hides behind the myth that sex before mating is forbidden.” She turned back to the window, her back rigid.

Sanders blinked a few times. “Fornkas?”

Shanti turned back to him with sadness weighing down her features. She pointed to his bulge in his pants, which had been easing down, and now gave an excited lurch. He needed to get the hell out of this room and back into the world were women were properly clothed. Or home where he was allowed to have sex.

“Balls, I think,” the Captain said quietly, his eyes focused on violet grief, which had nothing to do with whoever she was talking about. It seemed like old pain—scars from her past that were now resurfacing. “Of whom are you speaking?”

Shanti turned again, her back to the room. Her grief was so fresh, so sharp, she looked like she would break in half at any moment. Whatever had happened in her past, it must’ve been traumatic for her to haul it here and not be able to contain it.

“Are you speaking of Lucius?” the Captain asked, quieter now.

“No, but how is he healing? I am trying to help but I don’t have much strength. I can’t keep contact for long.”

“Come again?”

“I would love to come the first time, but the man of my choosing is not interested. I could really use that distraction right now.” Her voice trailed away as she stared out the window.

The muscles in the Captain’s arms flexed. He was starting to lose his patience. He took a second to calm himself, something he had to do often in this woman’s presence, which Sanders had some experience with, and changed gears. “Where are you from?”

“That is not working, and I am not planning to tell you.”

Sanders look around in confusion. What wasn’t working?

The Captain said, “I had a meeting yesterday with an interested trading party. Sanders can confirm—he was there. He often organizes protection for trade routes. He has a head for numbers. I value his opinion in those matters. As I do in this matter.”