"What?" I snap.
"Are you going to kill everyone?" She glares up at me, jaw clenched.
I'm offended she even has to ask. "Of course not. I'm no monster."
She snorts. "Your mother is."
"My mother is…something else." Lady Naasi has always been ruthless, but it's never occurred to me just how far she would go. She expects me to just do her bidding and murder over a hundred people simply because she finds their existence inconvenient? Too bad for her that I'm going to have to inconvenience her for a while yet, because I have no desire to murder anyone. It's different when they're fellow corsairs. They know the game, so to speak. But innocent people? Females and gladiators and clones who have done nothing wrong save to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?
"A monster," Ruth says flatly. "She wants you to kill all those people—and me—because she doesn't want to get caught with her hand in the cookie jar."
I shoot her a look. "Anyone that's met you probably wants to kill you."
The return stare she gives me is utterly withering. "I could say the same about you, buddy."
She's probably not wrong on that account. Her tone is irritating, though. I snatch one of the tunics from the pile she's sitting on and pick it up. It falls apart in my grip and I toss it aside, only to pick up another with the same situation. This one smells like her, though, and for some reason, that irks me, because I like the smell.
This female is getting into my keffing head and I don't like it. If she sticks around, I'm going to be utterly mad by the time the Darkened Eye makes it to Risda III. I turn away from the closet, pacing back and forth in my quarters. I'm well aware that I'm showing the female my back. That if she has a weapon, she could attack me. At this point, I'd almost welcome the distraction. I move to one side of the room, hands behind my back, and walk to the far corner, then back again.
I need to think.
"Well?" the female demands, slipping out of my closet.
She shrugs on one of my tunics—one that only has a single sleeve left. It looks absurd on her, hanging to her knees, and the collar is so deep it might as well not cover her breasts at all. I can see cleavage even from here…unless that's part of her plan.
"Well what?" I scowl.
"Your psycho mom just gave you an order to kill everyone." She gestures at me. "Well?"
As if this bears answering. I keep pacing. "We're not going to listen to her."
Ruth snorts. "What's this 'we' stuff, blue boy? I’m not on your side.”
I ignore that. She's just trying to rile me. I know she doesn’t want them dead. Neither do I. I return to my pacing, thinking. My mother's vid-call has me rattled. It must be bothering her for her to call me of her own volition. Normally we only speak when I return to Homeworld, and then only as briefly as possible. She lives for parties and political scheming, whereas I find all of that incredibly distasteful. I like being out amongst the stars, exploring new places and seeking adventure.
Slaves are not part of that adventure. Neither is murdering them. So I keep pacing and thinking, pacing and thinking. Ignoring my mother outright will cause problems. Then again, if anyone catches wind that the sa'Rin family is slaving, that'll be an even bigger problem.
"We'll speak to my uncle," I announce to the female. It's a good plan. He won't want them destroyed, and no matter what he decides, I can tell my mother that I had to obey the head of House Rin.
I turn to look over at her. Ruth is busy rolling up the single sleeve on my tunic, because it is far, far too long for her. "The uncle that disposes of slaves for you?"
"Disposes of them?" I scoff. "Do you have any idea of who my uncle is?"
Ruth lifts her chin in that utterly stubborn look and I realize that no, she has no idea. I don't correct her. Let her stew on the situation for a while.
Let someone else be as miserable as me for a time. I could use the company.
21
RUTH
He hasn't re-cuffed me yet. I don't know if this is a test or if he genuinely forgot after the call with his mother, but I'm not going to point it out. I'll keep him off his guard, hopefully, and then…what? I can't escape—like he said, there's nowhere to go. Now that he knows that I'm here, there's no point in hiding. Better to befriend him and act like we're on the same side. Friends close, enemies closer, or something.
So I follow cautiously behind him as he paces in the room. I sit in one of the chairs next to the plate of food, pick up a piece of fruit, and peel it as if I belong here. "So what's the plan? We go to your uncle and he takes everyone off your hands? What then?"