Xander’s form stiffens, then he spins, pulling his sword from its scabbard.
I stop, holding up my hands. “Oh!”
His dark eyes meet mine and his face reddens. “So sorry, Miss.” He sheathes his sword. “I thought I was alone. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
I place my hand over my heart, playing the role of a simple girl. “No. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you,” I say, then take a cautious step toward him. “I was winded from the dance and needed to escape the stuffy room.”
His eyes drink me in, and I work my swagger a little harder as I approach him. “You looked like you’d found something interesting out here. I was curious to why a knight was all alone, staring out into the dark instead of celebrating his prince’s betrothal.”
As I move closer, I see faint stubble along his jawline and chin, the only shadow on his otherwise smooth face. His eyes are dark pools of brown, a color so rich it looks tempting. His lips quirk into a side-grin and it pinches the corners of his eyes. I thought he was handsome before, but this close, he’s beautiful. A sharp pang of regret hits me, and it’s so intense I immediately take a step back.
Forcing the alarming feeling away, I give my head a clearing shake. He’s part of the Force. And Micha has a good reason, I remind myself.
He sweeps his hand through the air, offering me the spot next to him. “I was star gazing,” he says. “I don’t do it much, but sometimes, if the sky’s clear, I try to spot the constellations.”
I sidle up beside him, feeling the heat from his body through the sleeve of my dress. I’m shocked he’s opened up to me, and about a subject that’s considered off-limits. Anything outside of Karm’s barrier, even the stars or sky itself, could be thought a dangerous subject. It’s hard to know what should or shouldn’t be said, so most avoid unsure topics, altogether.
Xander’s slightly pained expression conveys he’s realized what he’s done. I nudge his arm reassuringly with my shoulder. “I often wonder if the stars look different from Outside,” I say, staring up at the night sky through the thick glass. “Maybe the barrier changes the way we see the sky.”
His expression relaxes. “I’ve wondered the same,” he says, then learns against the windowpane, his eyes darting between me and the sky. “But only the king would know, and I believe he’s done his best to simulate what the world looked like before.”
I smile up at him, but inwardly scoff. What the world looked like before? People haven’t lived in castles and cottages in over . . . Well, I don’t know for how long. But long enough. “He’s a brilliant man, truly.” I want to rip my tongue from my mouth, but I force my lips to hold the smile. He’s trying to move the conversation into safe territory. I must have really taken him off-guard.
He leans in closer to me. “Xander.” He taps his chest. “May I have your name?”
I wonder if I should give him my real name for a moment—if something should go wrong, he’d be able to report me—but I’m trained well. Nothing will go wrong, and in a minute, he won’t be able to repeat his own.
“Fallon,” I say, mimicking his gesture, but making sure I tap low enough to bring his attention to the right spot. And it works. His face flushes as he stares down, then he quickly looks up and away. I duck my head, hiding my knowing smile.
Sliding closer to him, I block his view of the goblet on the bench behind me. Then with my left hand, I stroke his arm. “Who taught you about the constellations?” I say, attempting to distract him. “Astronomy . . . Well, it’s definitely not required learning, and I can’t imagine that knights have use for tracking star patterns.”
I feel him flex beneath my hand. “Uh, you’re correct. It’s a usel
ess hobby, one that the first knight himself has called me out on.” His brows furrow. “But my mother,” he says. “She was a free thinker and loved the lore around the constellations.” A beat. “She taught me.”
“I see,” I say.
“I apologize.” He shakes his head. “This is inappropriate. I’m afraid you’ve caught me in a strange frame of mind tonight.”
His mother must have been taken by the virus. Astronomy is an unsafe topic, but no one speaks of people—even family—once their gone. It’s forbidden. We simply go on like they never existed. Xander’s odd behavior confuses me, and I’m again questioning why he’s been marked by the Rebels. I shouldn’t waste another second, but my curiosity is piqued.
I clear my throat. “You’ve said nothing to offend me.” I smile up at him. “My mother was a very spirited person, also. She taught me a few things about the stars,” I say, stressing the fact she’s no longer here, wanting to gauge his reaction.
At first he’s cautious, his eyes wide, studying my face. Then they pinch at the corners as he eases back into the conversation. “I’m curious, Miss Fallon. I’ve never met another to know much about them.” He points toward the sky. “Please, do your best to impress me with your knowledge.”
My stomach flutters, and I can’t stop the smile from overtaking my face. “Is this a challenge or are you mocking me?”
His smile reaches his smoldering eyes and he laughs. “I would never mock a lady. I’m offended you believe me so crude.”
“You do it again,” I say, batting his arm. “I shall show you up then.” I look at the sky, seeking a constellation I know. “There.” I point. “That’s the Little Dipper.”
He waves his hand, pushing air through his lips. “That’s too easy.”
“Oh?” I say. “Then please, Sir Xander, dazzle me with your infinite wisdom.”
“All right.” His nods his head once, determined. “To think, a knight having to impress a maiden with his mind instead of masculine skill.”
A laugh escapes my lips. “Well, I could always ask you to show off your skill by attacking that tree.” I nod toward the Weeping Willow near the lake.