Mara’s smile was fill of confidence, and I couldn’t stop the warm glow her words elicited. “You are his match. Perfect for him, which means you must also be perfect for us. The protocols would not have mated our commander to a woman who could not handle him, or responsibilities of her own.”
Stunned, I felt my mouth open and close, which made her laugh.
“My mate is Captain Myntar, the third-highest ranking officer
in Battle Group Zakar. And since neither the commander nor Captain Trist was mated, I’ve been running things around here by myself. And between you and me, I could really use some help.”
Excitement tingled up my spine at the prospect of having something meaningful to do. I should have been excited at the opportunities I would have to gather information in my new role, but, if I were honest with myself, it felt good to be productive. I loved the idea of contributing to something, building something, rather than destroying it.
“How long have you been a mate?” I asked.
“Five years. We have a son.” Her face lit up. “Would you like to see him?”
“Oh, um…sure.”
“Good, because I took him to his school—he’s only three, so it’s more for play—but I always like to peek at him and see him having fun.”
We turned a few more corners, the wall color changing again to a soft, sandy brown. Zara stopped in front of a door long enough for it to slide open, then I followed her in. We were in an entry area, an odd blue-skinned woman sat behind a desk. Her hair was as black as her eyes, but her features were stunning, cover-model gorgeous.
“Lady Myntar,” the woman said.
“Hi, Nealy. This is Lady Zakar—”
The woman stood, nodded her head. “The commander’s mate. Welcome.”
I smiled at the young woman. “Thank you. And you can call me Amanda.”
Mara was practically glowing. “I just wanted to take a peek at Lan. I won’t disturb.”
Nealy nodded and we approached one of the windows that offered a view into the adjacent rooms. There were various-aged children playing in each, adults with them and playing too, some helping with coloring or rolling a ball.
“There.” Mara pointed to a little boy with the same golden coloring and rust-colored hair as his mother. He was busy stacking blocks with a little girl with flaxen hair, similar to my Rav’s. The scene was straight out of any preschool back home.
“He’s adorable.”
Mara beamed, clearly enthralled by her child. “Yes. He is so strong. Already so protective. He punched another little one yesterday for pulling on little Aleandra’s hair. His fathers were so proud.”
Okay, so they encouraged fighting.
No, they encourage their little boys to protect the little girls. I couldn’t say I disapproved.
We watched for a few minutes, enjoying the simple joy on their faces, their innocent delight in such basic things. I realized these children were just like little boys and girls on Earth. They were no different. One stole a toy from another, one had fallen asleep on a blanket with a book. Another sat in one of the teacher’s laps, tears on his cheeks. She was waving a small glowing wand over a scraped knee.
I pointed. “What’s that?”
“The ReGen wand?”
“The thing in the teacher’s hand.”
“Yes. It’s a healing wand.”
Within seconds, the boy’s knee was completely healed, no sign of the scrape remained. His tears stopped and he was smiling.
“I’ve never seen one before,” I commented.
“We should go before Lan sees me.”
We left the little school and took to the corridors again.