"I am not alarmed," she murmured.
"I am Jetr. I come from the planet of Dolsom. My people are Anshan's greatest allies."
"Is your planet far?" she asked.
"Unfortunately far, in the farthest of the Five Galaxies. I haven't seen my home in many sun-cycles."
"You must miss your home as I do mine."
He tilted his head to the side, observing her with a faint smile.
"Jetr, you are welcome to join us." A'Ran's deep voice saved her from filling the awkward quiet. "Please accompany Opal."
Jetr took the dismissal with a bow of his head and moved away. A'Ran waited. He kept the distance between them, and she felt it like a rejection. Even so, he was too stunning for her to look away. She cleared her throat then said, "I'm sorry. I don't want to keep you from your meeting."
"You received them." His gaze fell to her chest, where she clenched the sketchbook.
"Yes. I just wanted to thank you," she said. "I won't keep you."
She intended to walk away but found herself stuck, gazing up at him. She was curious about the softer side of him and captivated by his steady gaze. There were many things she suddenly wanted to know about the man she was stuck with. His every look was penetrating, as if he sought to capture her thoughts whenever she crossed his path. She had the impression of extreme intelligence and extreme determination, a combination that awed and intimidated her. Uneasy with the stirrings within her, she forced herself to step away.
"Thank you."
Only when she turned did she break eye contact, but she felt him watch her. Kiera squeezed the gifts to her chest and walked back to the house, lost in thought. There was something about A'Ran that flipped her world on end. She blinked as she entered the darker house and forced her attention on her surroundings. She returned to her room, eager to spend the day drawing.
She started with a sketch of A'Ran and found she couldn't focus on anything else. She drew him as she'd seen him in the morning, bare-chested and carrying a sword. She drew him as she'd seen him during their conversation the day before, the quietly fierce leader seated in his ship. She found herself sketching him as she'd seen him in the vision from what felt like years ago when they walked hand-in-hand on the dead planet.
It was past dark fall when she finished, and she gazed at her last sketch, intrigued by it. It was what would happen if for some reason she didn't go back to her own planet. A'Ran wasn't as controlling as Romas, from what she knew of him, and she couldn't help feeling as drawn to the picture in front of her as she was to the man himself.