Page 117 of Ruby
I am.
There’s no Bitch. No sarcasm. No performance.
Just me.
Azoeul exhales slowly as I sit back on my heels.
“You didn’t hesitate,” he says, studying me in a way that feels different than before. Not wary. Not amused. Respectful.
“I’ve seen worse,” I reply automatically—then pause.
I have.
And not all of them were makeup. Plus sets where someone fainted and no one knew what to do. Directors panicking. Assistants crying. I was always the one who stepped in, who called 911, who kept things moving.
No one ever called that strength. They called it being difficult. Controlling.
Ree squeezes my wrist lightly.
“You did well,” she says.
I shrug, but my chest feels warm.
Szhe’ka steps back as Azoeul leans against the rock, breathing easier now.
“I am proud of you,” Szhe’ka says.
“I’ve… always been good in emergencies,” I admit slowly. “I just never thought of it as something valuable.”
“It is,” Ree says firmly.
I glance around our little camp.
The lean-tos. The smoking rack for fish. The crude water filters Thivoll built near the shore. Szhe’ka’s treehouse in the tree above.
It’s not much.
But it’s ours.
Szhe’ka’s hand settles at the small of my back.
“I am proud to be part of this,” he says softly. “Our little aerie.”
The word makes me smile.
“Aerie?” I repeat.
“Yes.” His eyes sweep over Ree, Kira, Thivoll, Azoeul, then back to me. “Even if none of us can fly properly.”
I laugh.
“We’ll work on it,” I promise him.
He hums, pleased.
Ree leans back on her hands, exhaustion creeping in now that the crisis has passed.
“We’ll need more,” she says quietly. “More people and we have to keep them safe… And also somehow make sure they can fight.”
