Before she reached the suite, a door to one of the smaller cabins opened. Sicarius stood on the threshold.
“A moment.” He stepped back, gesturing for Amaranthe to step past him and go inside.
Not certain what concern he might voice, Amaranthe tried to find a clue in his eyes, but, as always, he gave away nothing. As she walked into the cabin, she tried not to feel like a student being taken aside by a teacher for a lecture on her failings. Things were going as well as could be expected, and they had a potential solution to Sespian’s most pressing problem. Sicarius ought to be pleased.
No lanterns burned in the room, and Amaranthe had only a glimpse of two empty bunks before Sicarius shut the door. Blackness swallowed them.
“If this is going to be a private admonishment, I wouldn’t mind a light,” Amaranthe said. “I need to see your face so I can know when my attempts at levity have crossed from amusing you to irking you.” Not that his face ever gave away much, but sometimes she could decipher his mood through the degrees of hardness.
Before Amaranthe could turn toward him, or start patting around for a lantern, Sicarius wrapped his arms around her from behind. It was so uncharacteristic that her first thought was that he was launching some sort of training exercise and expected her to defend herself. But she’d already be on her back with a dagger at her throat if that were the case.
Arms around her waist, Sicarius stepped close, his chest pressing against her back. Something-his chin? — came to rest on her shoulder.
“This… may be a foolish question, given our positions,” Amaranthe said, her voice a little squeaky, “but is this… a hug?”
Sure, he’d hugged her before-so few times that she had no trouble counting them-but that had usually been after she’d nearly gotten herself killed some way or another. Certainly never during a mission when there was work to be done and other people were nearby.
Sicarius snorted softly at her question, his breath whispering across her neck, stirring gooseflesh. “Thank you.”
The quiet words startled her more than the hug. Amaranthe couldn’t ever remember him saying them.
“For… sending the men to look in the shaman’s cave? For going against your wishes and bringing along Sergeant Yara, who, as you noticed, vouched for us to Sespian? Or maybe for my unique style of leadership which, at no extra charge, includes non-linear thinking, inappropriate jokes, and a tendency to blow things up?” Stop burbling, a voice in the back of her mind said. She’d been wanting hugs-all right, more than hugs-from him for a long time, so she should simply appreciate the rare moment.
“Yes.” He kissed her on the neck, and the warmth of his lips sent a wave of heat through her.
Amaranthe closed her eyes and leaned back into him, enjoying the feel of the hard muscles beneath his shirt molding into her back. She clasped his hands with her own, exploring his strong, calloused fingers with her thumb. His neatly trimmed nails were lacking in teeth marks. He had to have been as worried of late as she, but chewing on nails had perhaps not been allowed during his young-assassin training sessions.
Too soon, Sicarius lowered his arms and stepped back. “Later.”
“Wait,” Amaranthe blurted, spinning and groping in the dark to catch one of his hands. “Later, what does that mean? Later, we’ll resume hugging in a dark room? Later, there’ll be more than hugging in a dark room?” A cool draft brushed against the skin of her neck, reminding her of the feel of his lips there.
Sicarius opened the door, and Amaranthe groaned to herself, knowing she wasn’t going to get an answer. But, on the way out, he squeezed her hand. Before he disappeared into the corridor, he gave her a backward glance with the hint of a smile on his lips.
“Huh,” she murmured.
It took Amaranthe a moment to collect herself and push musings of what “later” might entail to the back of her mind. When she stepped into the corridor, she was almost knocked on her rump by a sweaty, bare-chested Maldynado skittering backward past the door. He paused in a crouch, his face to the navigation cabin, his fists cocked.
“What are you-” Amaranthe started.
“I’m faster than you thought, aren’t I?” Maldynado asked, ignoring Amaranthe. “You’ll need to come up with more speed or fancier combinations than that to touch me.”
“All you’ve proven so far is that you’re good at running away,” came Yara’s voice from a few paces farther up the corridor.
She was stalking toward him, her fingers curled into fists, her face flushed with exertion.
“I don’t want to hurt you by throwing a punch that’ll knock you on your lean little rump,” Maldynado drawled. “I thought it was sufficient proof of my manliness that I could evade all your attempts to pummel me.” He spread a hand across his muscular chest, fingers splayed.
“Hurt me!” Yara sputtered. “You couldn’t hit a drunk possum stuffed in a sack.”
“What a lovely image,” Maldynado said. “Is that one of your rural adages? It’s quite charming.”
Yara charged him. Maldynado danced back into the cargo bay and glided to the side when Yara ran in. She jumped after him and launched a punch at his belly, a quick jab that would have caught up with many opponents, but he evaded it easily.
Before Amaranthe could veer for Sespian’s suite, Maldynado and Yara sparred their way back down the corridor. Amaranthe stepped between them, hands upraised. “It’s very possible that enemy craft is coming back to visit us. Would you two mind making sure everything in the cargo area is battened down, in case there’s an… altercation?”
A sheepish expression on her face, Yara said, “Of course,” and hustled to the cargo bay.
Though Maldynado couldn’t have managed a sheepish expression if he’d tried, he did shrug and start to stroll in that direction. Amaranthe caught him by the bare, sweaty arm.
“What are you doing?”
Maldynado’s eyes widened innocently. “What do you mean?”
“She finds you annoying. Why are you bugging her by inflicting yourself upon her?”
“She only thinks she finds me annoying.” Maldynado smiled and gestured toward the corridor. “This seemed like the best way.”
“Way for what?” Amaranthe wondered if she truly wanted the answer.
“Wooing her, of course.”
“ Wooing? ”
“It’s drafty up here. You don’t think I’d be running around with my shirt off for no reason, do you?”
Amaranthe glanced toward the cargo bay, but Yara was out of sight. “What do you mean wooing her? Are you joking?”
“Of course not, boss. We’ve been out of town for several days now, and a man has needs.”
Amaranthe dropped her forehead into her palm. “I didn’t think you even liked her.”
“Oh, she’s insufferable, but there aren’t many options up here. She’s prettier than Books anyway.”
“Listen, Maldynado. I don’t think you’re going to have much luck wooing her, but either way, she’s off limits.”
“What? Why?”
Aware of the fact that Sespian was probably in his suite a few feet away, Amaranthe lowered her voice. “I brought her along for the emperor.”
“Uh, pardon?”
Amaranthe wasn’t about to go into the real reason, so she said, “He’s the one who promoted her, and I think she feels loyal to him. Maybe more.” The last was a stretch-nothing Yara had said implied she had romantic notions toward the emperor, but surely he was a more appealing candidate than Maldynado, someone who could vex her without saying a word.
“If that’s her interest, that’s fine,” Maldynado said, “but I’m not going to step aside for his sake.”
“I don’t think it’s very gentlemanly of you to pursue a woman you’re not genuinely interested in.”
“Maybe not, but I’m a disowned lout, not a gentleman, remember?”
Amaranthe was surprised he was fighting her on this. He usually accepted orders without much of a battle, so long as they didn’t involve getting up too early. “But what if the emperor developed real feelings for her? He could offer her a wonderful future, not simply a roll around the cargo bay.”