Starfall (Starflight #2)(55)
And then they didn’t talk to each other for the rest of the night.
They exchanged a few words the next day, but only as necessary, like when responding to a knock on the bedroom door with “Wait a minute, I’m not dressed,” even though they’d seen it all before.
Unlike their previous fights, this time Kane didn’t try to make peace. He didn’t want to. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and he resented Cassia for trying to make him feel like a traitor for having an opinion of his own. That didn’t make him a bad friend; it meant he had a spine. Besides, loyalty was a two-way street, and she didn’t seem willing to travel it. So until she was ready to apologize, he had nothing to say to her.
He’d grown used to the silent treatment—enjoyed it, even—when on the third night as he began drifting to sleep, she ended the stalemate by speaking from the bottom bunk.
“I want to ask you something.”
He grumbled and rubbed his eyes. She’d picked a fine time to break the silence. “What?”
“Will you promise to tell me the truth?”
“If you promise you can handle it this time.”
“It’s about that day in Gage’s compound,” she said, “when I used his mom’s bedroom to talk to Jordan and you waited outside the door. How much did you overhear?”
“Enough to sprain a muscle from rolling my eyes so hard.”
“Did you hear us talk about moving the armory?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No.”
“Not even your friend Badger?”
“Not even him.”
“Did the rebel commander ask you to spy on me?”
Kane’s heart skipped a beat. How did she know about that? Her general must have caught on to Badger and tortured the information out of him. Or worse, used the truth extractor to learn the names of more rebels…like Kane’s mom. The general wasn’t supposed to use the extractor on citizens of the Rose kingdom, but who knew what rules he bent while Cassia was gone?
“Kane?” she prompted.
“Not directly, but yes. I said I wouldn’t do it.”
There was a long pause, followed by, “Why should I believe you?”
A sharp ache broke out in the hollow behind Kane’s sternum, as if an arrow had struck him from the inside. He would think that after all these years, he’d learn to brace himself, but somehow her words always hit home.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
He huffed in disbelief. “I don’t know, Cassia. Maybe because I gave you two years of my life without asking for anything in return. Or because I’d give you my next twenty years if I thought you wanted me.” He didn’t try to mask the pain in his voice. For once he wanted her to hear it. “But if you don’t trust our friendship, I’ll say this: I do hope the monarchy ends, but not enough to see people die for it. I wouldn’t escalate the fighting with weapons. So you can either believe me or not. It makes no difference to me anymore.”
When she didn’t respond, he added, “Here’s another dose of honesty for you. One of the reasons I’m taking Gage’s job offer is you. You give me whiplash. One minute you’re wrapped around me in my bunk, and as soon as I catch my breath, you stab me in the heart. I don’t know if you like hurting me or if you can’t help it. Either way, I’m ready to get off this ride.”
He rolled over and punched his pillow a few times to fluff it. Nobody spoke after that, but sleep didn’t come easily for either of them. He listened to her quiet sniffles from the bottom cot while he stared at the wall and tried not to think too hard about why she doubted him, about why he cared so much, about what would happen next.
About a future without her in it.
The alarm sounded too soon the next morning.
Kane’s eyelids were lined with sandpaper when he blinked awake. The simple act of swinging his legs over the mattress drained his reserves. He peeked at the bottom bunk and found it empty, so he scraped together enough energy to hurry up and pull on his clothes before Cassia returned from the shower.
He didn’t want to see her.
Their paths didn’t cross in the washroom, and to keep it that way, he rushed through his morning routine. But when he reached for her pink laser blade, he froze with his fingers poised an inch from the handle. He could afford to buy his own blade now, maybe at the mercantile on New Atlantia. Until then, he would forgo shaving.
The scent of coffee reached him before he entered the galley, where breakfast was already made and the table set. A stack of neatly folded laundry rested on his spot at the bench, including the shirt he’d stained, which was now pristine and crisp. A week ago the offering would have thawed him, but now he saw it as another empty gesture, a strip of gauze on a knife wound. But as he wasn’t stupid enough to refuse good food, he scooped himself a bowl of porridge and a mug of coffee, then sat down to eat alone.
He was halfway finished when Renny and Arabelle strode in, hand in hand, followed by Doran and Solara, who were linked at the elbows.
Kane lost his appetite. There was too much love on this ship.
“Hey,” Renny called as Kane gathered his laundry and turned to leave. “About an hour until we touch down. Report to the bridge if you want a bird’s-eye view of New Atlantia.”