The Kraken King by Meljean Brook

changed?”
    “Nothing,” she said, and somehow managed an even tone. She wouldn’t let him see her anger. And she’d die before letting him see her hurt. “Everything is as it always was, I’m sure.”
    “No.” His voice roughened. “Your eyes were green flames. Now they are hard stones.”
    “What a flattering image. Do you write poetry, sir?”
    She could imagine how it would go: Ghostly terror, green eyes like rocks; ugly and gullible, Zenobia Fox!
    His dark eyebrows shot together in a frown. Probably astonished that she’d mocked him. But he didn’t respond with anger, as she’d hoped. He only stared down at her. Arms crossed beneath her breasts, she returned his stare, holding it for so long that details that she hadn’t noticed before stood out to her: the faint peak at the center of his hairline. A scar at the corner of his left eye, and another on his chin, visible as a narrow line through the stubble shadowing his jaw.
    When his quiet question finally came, it surprised her. “Are you frightened of me?”
    “No,” she said honestly. “But I’ve considered your offer and decided that I’m not interested.”
    “Why?”
    She wanted to tell him. She wanted to toss it into his face, to see if he would feel even a little ashamed for what he’d said and intended to do. But she didn’t want to make him wonder how she’d learned of the conversation; Mara’s listening device was an advantage that Zenobia didn’t want to lose if they were to be stuck here for a month.
    So he would just have to accept that their flirtation was over and let her be. “I don’t feel obligated to explain myself to you. Thank you for rescuing me, sir. Thank you for giving us a place to stay while we are in town. And I will thank you if I can rejoin my friends now.”
    A muscle in his jaw worked. For a breathless second, she thought he might refuse. That he might keep her here—or pick her up and carry her away.
    Then he inclined his head and stepped back.
    Zenobia swept past him and through the gate. Her heart thundered as if she’d scaled a mountain rather than simply refuse a man’s attentions. She couldn’t focus on anything ahead of her. Her breath felt tight in her chest, and her throat burned with tears.
    But she wasn’t crying over him. It was just all so disappointing. To be so utterly attracted to a man who wasn’t worth her interest—and who made her feel so low.
    No more. On a deep breath, she caught up to Helene and the lieutenants. And—blast it all—Helene looked upset now, too. No doubt over something that the officers had said. This night would have been so much more pleasant if all the men had stopped talking.
    Zenobia pasted on a smile. “I remember that your quarters were in the other direction, lieutenants? There is no need to trouble yourselves by seeing us home. We are well attended.”
    Blanchett glanced back at Mara and Cooper, trailing a few yards behind. After seeing them in action aboard the airship, he couldn’t doubt Zenobia and Helene’s safety now.
    “So you are.” He sounded relieved. Perhaps glad to get away from Helene’s distress. Probably thinking that the evening would have been more pleasant if all the women weren’t so emotionally overwrought. “We’ll bid you good night, then.”
    After a final exchange of pleasantries, Zenobia tucked her arm through Helene’s and continued on toward the southern end of town, where their temporary residence overlooked the bay. One of the enormous kraken-structures rose on the right. Not a house or shop, as far as she could tell—and unlike some of the others, which had been plastered over and painted, the shell was still encrusted with dark barnacles. Tomorrow, perhaps she’d walk through town and see what she could learn about the kraken shells and their uses. Then visit the few shops and replace some of the items they’d lost on the airship—maybe even find a typesetting machine. The next month could be quite productive if