“Adi said the machine fixed it. I’m sorry!”
Instead of giving me an angry look, he manages a crooked smile in my direction. “I guess I asked for it, huh?” His palm presses to his plated brow. “Kef me, I have a headache.”
“I’m sorry!”
He sits up, the blanket rustling as he swings his legs over the side of the slab. “Really, it’s okay, Helen. I’m just a little surprised. How’d you manage that?”
“I lifted my hand and swung—”
Mathiras laughs, the sound slightly pained as he holds his head and gets to his feet. “No, I know that part. Just…how were you so fast?”
“Oh!” I beam with pleasure, because now I get to tell him the good news. “Adiron says that when they cloned me, someone must have given me modified reflexes. He gave me a blaster and I was able to shoot with ninety-nine percent accuracy, as well. Isn’t that fun?”
He blinks at me. “Modified reflexes?”
I nod. “Unless all qura’aki are very fast and accurate. There isn’t anyone I can ask, so we’re assuming that they did it when they cloned me. Like maybe I was supposed to be a bodyguard!” A new idea hits me and I’m struck by sheer excitement. “Mathiras! I can be your bodyguard!”
“We’ll see,” he says, but doesn’t sound all that convinced. He takes a step forward, and sways, his eyes widening. “My head. Kef me.”
Right now? “Would that help you feel better?”
He squints at me. “Oh. Uh, that’s just a saying, Helen.”
Well, that’s disappointing. I wince as he rubs his head vigorously, as if trying to scrub the headache out. “Can I get you anything? Hot tea? Something to eat? A hug? I always feel better with a hug.”
To my surprise, he lurches forward and wraps me in an enormous hug. He leans on me heavily, but I don’t mind. Mathiras is hugging me, and automatically this turns into an amazing day. I hug him back, loving the feel of his arms wrapped around me. “I really am fine, Helen. I’m sorry if you panicked. Because I bet you did, didn’t you?”
“A little,” I admit. “It’s just…you’re my best friend. I don’t like the thought of hurting you.” I run my hands over his back. “Even if you did ask for me to give you everything I had.”
He laughs, and I can feel it all through my body. I love the feel of it, and the sound of his laughter. It makes me feel good. Happy. “Yeah, I guess I did. I didn’t realize what I was setting myself up for.”
“Adiron should have explained.” If I have to side against Adiron, I absolutely will. Mathiras has my loyalty above all. “Should I go yell at him?”
I’m disappointed when Mathiras pulls back and gives me a pat on the shoulder. “No, it’s just my brother being his usual self. And he’s right—I’ve gotten into far worse in the past.” He touches his swollen nose again and grimaces. “You did hit me pretty keffing hard.”
“I did! You’re always underestimating me.”
He grins at me, and my heart does a little flip in my chest at his easy smile. “I am, aren’t I? You’d think I’d learn.”
The sight of his face is dazzling me. I could stare at him for hours and not get enough. “You just see what you want to see when you look at me.”
Mathiras’s smile fades and his expression grows thoughtful. “Maybe I do.”
CHAPTER 24
MATHIRAS
In a way, the throb of pain in my face is good, because it reminds me not to underestimate Helen. Maybe I needed a rolling pin to the face to realize that I’ve been coddling her. The entire time we were on the abandoned mining station, I never gave her a weapon. I insisted on being her protector, her champion. I took care of everything, right down to the food we ate and the clothes she wore.
I really have been treating her like a child.
But she could be right. What if she was cloned to be a bodyguard? I could absolutely see a rich noble with a qura’aki at his side, one secretly trained to be a protector. They’re valued as sex slaves more than anything, so it’d be the perfect disguise.
Sex slave. Bodyguard. None of these things are related to children.
I’m finally realizing that Helen’s an adult, and because she’s an adult, it means I have to rethink a lot of things about her. It’s time to stop shoving down the feelings I have for her. It’s time to stop classifying her as a little sister, like Zoey. Someone to protect and dote upon, to take care of and shield from the universe.
Of course, Zoey isn’t a fan of coddling either. She’d punch me in the gut if I refused to give her a blaster and curse me out in at least six languages. Just because Helen’s scared of the dark and afraid of being alone doesn’t make her a child. I’ve known soldiers who’ve come back from war with all kinds of fears of loud noises or open spaces. It’s a trauma response, a learned behavior.