Kiera's Moon

She debated what to do about the conversation she overheard. She didn't understand the rules of this world well enough to know if she were jumping the gun, but what she heard made her very uncomfortable.

Maybe it was Gage's involvement. The women of A'Ran's family were sheltered. They couldn't recognize a predator if it sat at their feet, and she was surprised to find her senses much more honed to such a ploy despite their social statuses rivaling those of royalty's on earth. They should have been taught better, she mused with a frown.

She went to the battle game to play until A'Ran called, wondering what he'd say when she told him her news about his sisters and wondering just how safe it would be to talk about Ne'Rin's conversation with his father. His father hadn't wanted to talk over the viewer; she doubted she should either.

Less than an hour after she'd started playing the game, the communicator lit up and beeped. Excited and nervous, Kiera crossed to it and waved her armband over the access pad. She straightened her hair and took a deep breath.

It wasn't Ne'Rin that greeted him for his daily briefing but the woman herself. She was dressed in faded teal that drew out her otherworldly eyes. She perched on the edge of one table, fidgeting hands in her lap and bright features alert as she focused on some point on the screen. A'Ran studied her for a long moment before turning on the reciprocal viewer, curious yet wary as to what his nishani had to say in place of Ne'Rin.

"Nishani," he greeted her.

"Hello, A'Ran." Her voice was soft and as feminine as her shape. Her pronunciation of his name was pleasantly accented. "How are you?"

"Well, as you see."

"Ne'Rin said you were hurt."

"The medical unit has healed me." He leaned forward, curiosity growing. That she took enough interest in him to ask after his injury pleased him. "Where is Ne'Rin this day?"

"Indisposed." A flicker of amusement crossed her face.

"My most trusted advisor chose not to attend his mandated meeting?" A'Ran raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't a choice," she assured him. "I wanted to speak to you, but I didn't want him around. I locked him out."

The blatant defiance was so sweetly uttered, he didn't know how to respond.

"He won't even let me wear my translator when we have visitors," she complained.

A'Ran knew he should chide her as he would his sisters and remind her of her place, but the words died before reaching his lips. His conversation with Evelyn lingered in his thoughts. Having spent most of his years in battle, he understood when a traditional approach would not work with an unusual opponent. He needed to adapt his strategies when dealing with her.