Starborne

Chapter 11

Contract: signed. Brain: completely befuddled. Emotions: on edge. Sleep: impossible to find.

Stefin took me to a study where several men and women watched me sign away my ability to leave Cynabar for six weeks. I was tired, drained, and hopelessly confused. I'd raged against him for a few minutes at the implication that love would be involved in this mess, but fell into exhaustion when he refused to recant his statement.

Oddly enough, Stefin didn’t seem arrogant or smug about his earlier revelation. In fact, after a brief explanation, he fell into a tired silence. Staring blankly at the door, the insufferable man just nodded at me while I called him out for being condescending, presumptive, and any other words my short-circuited brain felt fit to apply to his insinuation.

What I knew, and hurt me quite profoundly, was that Stefin’s attitude proved that he didn’t hate me, or particularly like me, but was indifferent. It was certainly a departure from the annoyance I managed to generate in the past. For some reason I felt even worse when my words flew past his glazed eyes and didn’t seem to stick at all. 

Stefin’s apathy killed any spark I had found within myself to resist the situation. He really, truly believed what he said, and I had an inkling that the more I argued, the less receptive he was becoming to my presence at all. 

I tried to put myself in his shoes, painful as it was to imagine his love towards Melora and the disappointment he must feel having to be here with me instead. I was keeping them apart, even only temporarily, and I was supposed to feel bad about that. The irritation he usually showed in my presence, which I had proudly attributed to some kind of internal conflict, had vanished as soon as the Priestess pointed me out in the crowd. 

Indifference burned more than dislike, so I forced myself to ignore how his tall body seemed bogged down in exhaustion and the way his normally perfect bronze waves stuck up in random tufts at the top of his head. I needed to worry about myself, sort out my own feelings, and then do everything to prepare for the barrage of hormone-induced madness that would emerge in the next few days. 

Stefin seemed certain that my emotions would be manipulated by the Priestess. He elaborated that there were rituals and concoctions brewed from some special herbs, which were intended to chemically increase bonding. I called upon my basic understanding of Terran science to deduce that they must increase endorphin production, and were probably designed to mess with my hormones and give me a more serious reaction towards him.

This scared me a lot; I already found Stefin blatantly attractive despite his demeanor, and couldn’t control my body’s reaction to his presence since the first moment we met. I attributed it to me being lonely and attention-starved during my last mission, but these circumstances were for sure only going to exaggerate things. Thankfully, Stefin seemed immune to whatever my human body was putting out, so it would certainly be a lot easier to remind myself that I was unwanted and therefore acting ridiculous. 

The room we occupied was composed of sterile marble and glass, like the rest of the castle, and contained a single wooden table. A diverse group of Cynabarrians sat around it, arguing about paperwork and collectively deciding my fate. They barely glanced at me while my autonomy was debated in no uncertain terms, and I stared passively at the darkened windows, only able to make out my own exhausted reflection. 

I signed the contract almost without looking, as I was too tired to care, and slipped out of the room without anyone noticing. I wandered around for a bit, my head a murky swarm of questions, before I recognized the front staircase and reluctantly navigated back to my room. I don’t know how long Stefin stayed awake going over provisions with his advisors, but nobody had looked twice when I snuck through the large wooden door and made a run for it.