Starfall (Starflight #2)(28)

For the next several minutes, they worked side by side at the counter, neither of them saying a word as she finished dicing the onions and Kane rinsed the lentils and set them on the stove to cook. She could tell he was working up the nerve to speak by the way he kept tapping one foot and sneaking glances at her. Finally, he propped an elbow on the counter and came out with it.

“So, uh, did you get any sleep after lunch?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had chores to do, and I wasn’t tired.”

“I would’ve done your chores.”

“I. Wasn’t. Tired.”

“Well, you, um,” he began while nervously scratching the back of his neck, “you didn’t eat your leftovers from lunch.”

“So what?”

“So you’ve lost a lot of weight—that’s all.”

“I’ll gain it back.”

“And at some point we have to talk about what happened.” He hesitated once and then took her hand, still wet from the sink. “You’ve been through a lot. You can’t hold that pain inside or it’ll spread like an infection. The sooner you open up, the faster you’ll—”

“I’m aware of what I’ve been through,” she said, taking back her hand. Did he think she needed a reminder? Or, rather, two reminders, as he’d already told her this earlier in the day, when he’d promised to stay with her until she was “okay.” Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he’d spoken too soon and now he was starting to realize how long “okay” might take. “Is that what this is about? Are you trying to hurry up and fix me so you can run off to your new job without feeling guilty?”

“What?”

“Is that why you’re pushing me to take naps and eat more?” She wiped her damp hands on her pants, backing away from him. “And nagging me to talk? Because you can’t move on until you fix what you think is broken?”

For a beat, he went quiet—angry quiet. Then he exhaled an audible breath and said, “Yeah, you nailed it. I want to help you bounce back so I can leave sooner. Not because you’re my best friend and you mean everything to me. Not because I care about you so much that I left my mother behind and spent two years slinging grease inside this galley just so I could be near you. No, that’s not the reason.”

She folded both arms and looked down, her face heating.

“I’m only thinking of myself because I’m selfish, right?” he went on. “I never, ever put your needs first, do I, Cassia?”

She winced at the use of her real name. She could count on one hand the number of times he’d called her that. “Okay, I get it. I was wrong.”

He jabbed a finger toward the doorway. “Just go—take a nap, don’t take a nap—I don’t give a damn what you do.”

She knew he didn’t mean it, but the words still pricked at her heart. Before she walked away, she paused at the threshold. “The secret to cutting onions is to do it under running water. I thought you should know.”



The mood at dinner was tense, to say the least.

She and Renny shared the bench on one side of the table while Kane sat in between Doran and Solara on the other. The lentils were too hot to eat, so each of them stared into their bowls as if the wafting steam might show them the future.

When the lack of conversation grew nearly unbearable, Renny summoned a smile and rubbed his palms together. “I don’t have to ask whose turn it is. Make it good, Cassia. You’ve missed a lot of suppers.”

All eyes shifted to her. It took a moment for her to catch on and remember their nightly ritual of playing “would you rather.” “Oh, right. Give me a second.”

“Take your time.”

She tried to think of a question no one had asked before. At first, nothing came, but then she thought back to the rebels on Eturia and their hatred of the throne. It seemed she couldn’t do anything right in their eyes. They didn’t care that she’d ended the war or given them food and rations. They wanted her gone because her last name was Rose. They’d forgotten that the founding houses had spent their entire fortunes terraforming Eturia. If not for the Rose family, the rebels would be living in slums on Earth.

“I have a question,” she announced. “Would you rather be a servant in someone’s home and have all your needs provided for, or serve no one and exist in total poverty?”

The crew pursed their lips in consideration, all except for Kane, who watched her while blowing on a spoonful of lentils. She could tell from the guarded look in his eyes that he knew exactly what she was referring to.

“There’s no shame in being anyone’s servant,” he said. “But a man should be able to choose who he serves. He shouldn’t be born into it.”

Renny pointed out, “You didn’t answer the question.”

“The second one, I guess.”

“Not me,” Solara said. “I’ve had a peek behind door number two, so I’d pick the first one.”

“Ditto,” Doran answered. “I’m too pretty to be poor.”

Renny chuckled and pulled a napkin across his mouth. “I guess it boils down to what I value more: freedom or comfort.” He pondered in silence for a few seconds. “Freedom, I think. So I’d pick the second one.”