Kiem sat back, more relaxed, and tilted his head to look up at the sky. His breath misted in the freezing air. It was absurd to be content, when Jainan’s shoulder still ached and they were in the middle of nowhere, in snow and treacherous terrain, relying on reaching a rail line to get back to civilization.

More absurd when Jainan thought about the wreckage of their flybug behind them and all the people at the palace or the base who might have had access to sabotage it. He felt it anyway.

Jainan shifted position to cross his legs, and his knee came into contact with Kiem’s. He didn’t even realize he’d done it until Kiem twitched and drew up his legs to put space between them.

The contentment receded. Jainan struggled to hold on to it, then realized it was in vain, and let it go. He let out a breath and let the twinge of humiliation recede with it. “It’s been a long day,” he said, because it seemed the least awkward way to apologize.

“Very long. So long,” Kiem agreed, though he was still holding himself awkwardly to avoid touching Jainan. He turned it into a scramble to his feet.

“You know what! I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Yes,” Jainan said. He got to his feet as well. “Do you want—”

Kiem had already grabbed one of the sleeping bags. “There isn’t enough room in there,” he said. “I’ll sleep out here.”

“What,” Jainan said blankly.

“These things are rated for outdoors, and there’s no wind,” Kiem said, unfolding the sleeping bag. “Perfect conditions.”

“Oh,” Jainan said, feeling leaden. It was a reasonable solution; sleeping in the same small tent would have been extremely awkward. “No, I have the bedroom

at home. Take the tent.”

“This is not your problem,” Kiem said, intently not-looking at Jainan.

“You’re not sleeping outside because of something that is in no conceivable universe your problem.”

It wasn’t worth fighting about. “All right. Yes.”

“All right,” Kiem repeated. The relief was unmistakable; Kiem always wore his emotions on his sleeve. “I’ll just get some water. I think there’s a stream still running over there.”

Jainan turned away and crawled into the tent. He could identify the odd sadness now. It came from the same source as the joy: life had been good to him, unexpectedly, but it wasn’t fair to try and stretch it out. If he had any regard for Kiem, any gratitude, he would have to try and think of a way out for him—some way that Kiem could live his own life, not shackled to someone he wasn’t attracted to. This couldn’t go on.

CHAPTER 17

Kiem was already sitting up and taking stock when the dawn sky started to lighten.