Sumi furrowed her brow. It was such a strange thing for him to do. And again, it seemed incongruous that a male so fierce would play like this in a woman’s hair. “Is that why League assassins braid their hair? Because they were founded by an Andarion?”

He continued to brush his hands through her hair and plait it. “Not just any Andarion, mia. The first Keris of the Warring Blood Clan of Hauk. Back then, an Andarion warrior had to earn the right to grow his or her hair long. It was kept short until Endurance. Then it was allowed to grow, but only so long as you were undefeated in battle. And no one ever defeated Keris. So when he started The League to fight against the human tyrant, all The League soldiers wore their hair long and braided to pay honor to him.”

It made sense, and she’d wondered why assassins did that. Now she knew. “So why don’t Andarions still wear their hair braided down their backs?”

“Too many humans took up the style.”

“I’m serious, Dancer.”

“As am I. We have a fierce loyalty to our homeworld that is only matched by the Phrixians. When so many offworlders began adopting our style, we changed it to the many shorter braids we now wear.” He pulled a leather tie from his bracer and used it to secure her hair.

Then, he stooped down and dipped two of his fingers into the dark soil. Smiling at her, he drew a pattern around her eye and down her cheek and jawline. “Now you look like the fierce warrior you are, munatara.” He placed a tender kiss to her other cheek before he moved away and gathered their things.

Curious, Sumi went to the water to see the beautiful swirling shape he’d drawn. “What does this signify, Dancer?”

He didn’t answer as he slung the pack over his back and secured it. “We need to hurry to catch up to the others. Once I see you safely to them and make certain they were able to contact Nyk, I’ll take one of the airbees and lead the assassins away from you.”

She started to repeat her question, until her gaze fell to the Andarion short sword he’d put across his back. There on the hilt, emblazoned in gold, was the same symbol he’d drawn on her face. It was identical to what was also stamped into his bracers. They were the swirling wings of a hawk. In that moment, she knew what he wouldn’t say.

He’d marked her as his.

Listen with your eyes…