The Princess and the Guard (Book 1)

Thirty-Two

Noah, sitting beneath his ship with an array of tools around him, ran a tired hand through his hair. He stifled a yawn and glanced at the digital clock mounted above the door. He almost got up to turn the TV on, thinking some mental stimulation might help him wake up a little more, but he changed his mind. The last thing he needed was to be distracted by what was going on throughout the country.

The past couple days had been the longest forty-eight hours he could remember. He had been walking around on eggshells since Juliette's outburst, waiting with bated breath for Odette to retaliate, to strike back against Juliette in a way that would leave her half-dead.

Two whole days passed, and nothing happened. Odette hadn't ordered her back to the infirmary, and to the best of his knowledge she hadn't beaten her again.

Noah heaved a sigh, standing up and arching his back in a stretch. He stooped for one of Mason's books sprawled out on the ground, cross-referencing the photo with the part of the engine he was working on.

From what he understood of this specific ship, it was mostly solar powered, but there was a separate fuel line to use as a backup. Most fuel ships had been outlawed in Demetria because of pollution concerns, but this was such an old model that still had the option for fuel.

Noah thought that he would slowly purchase as much fuel as they could store, just to have in case of an emergency. The radiant light from the dome was strong enough to charge the solar panels, but if they needed to stop somewhere and it was raining, he didn't want to be stranded.

Noah rubbed his temple, a headache beginning to bloom behind his eyes. His ears perked up as soft footsteps echoed through the vast hanger, and he glanced at his wristlet again. It was just now midnight.

"I thought you went to bed?" he asked, craning around the side of the ship, his eyebrows twitching as Juliette walked down. She was wearing his sweatshirt again. The sleeves had stretched out, probably because she constantly bunched them in her fists, and the color was starting to fade.

"I did, but I couldn't sleep," she said, walking passed him and climbing up on the pile of crates off to the side. She picked up one of the tools he had shoved in a box and twirled it around her finger. "Besides, I... I miss you," she added. "Everything's been so... weird lately, I feel like it's been a while since we've just sat and talked."

Noah's shoulder twitched. "You shouldn't say things like that," he said, shooting her a half-hearted glare.

"Why not?"

Noah hesitated. "Someone might hear you," he said, emphasizing the someone so she'd know he meant Odette.

Juliette scowled and Noah looked away, annoyed that even scowling she managed to rattle the inside of his sternum.

"We should... cool it a little. At least in public," he added, fumbling with a rusted bolt. "I shouldn't be talking to you so casually ever, on or off duty, and I'd bet my right arm your sister will be paying extra close attention to you. And me." He glanced up at her, his heart twisting at seeing the pain written on her face. "Right now, that's the last thing we need."

"That's fair. Sorry."

He sighed, trying to stamp out the frustration in his tone and afraid she would think he was upset at her. "No, I'm sorry. I've been on edge the past few days and am probably overreacting; you're fine."

Juliette pressed her lips together in a smile. She straightened, jerking her chin to the ship. "I think I'm going to try and start working on this blasted computer."

Noah nodded once. "Sounds good."

Juliette climbed into the cockpit, and Noah could hear her moving around. "How's the engine looking?" she asked.