Chapter Three

Their house was modest by Earth standards. Just three rooms, with a living area that joined them together. The bedroom and bathroom were side by side. A swinging door made from local wood joined the two rooms. The kitchen stood at the other side of the living area. All of the walls were painted soft, muted shades. The whole house was restful and peaceful. She lay in bed and listened to him making breakfast. The door reminded her of satinwood, she decided. The bead curtain that separated the living area from the bedroom rustled. She smiled and rolled over to watch him walk towards the bed. Fragrant local tea scented the air, along with the tangy spice of the fruit they ate for breakfast. He wore only a pair of pyjama bottoms that sat low on his hips and a simple white shirt.

He set the tray on a low table and sat down on the silk sheets next to her. She kissed his neck. "You're quiet," she wrapped her arms around him "What's wrong?"

He shrugged a little. "Dunno. Headache." He rubbed his neck. "Must have slept wrong or something." He looked tired, and a little drawn.

The pounding in his head was slowly becoming more intense. Bright lights swam at the edges of his vision. He blinked to chase them away. She sat up and reached for him, brow creased with concern. The scent of the tea made him feel queasy. Even the soft light in the room was too bright. This must be what a migraine feels like, he thought absently. She knelt behind him. The shirt he'd been wearing fluttered to land on the bed as she eased him out of it. The cool air felt good against his skin. Gently, she rubbed his neck and shoulders.

"Really sore there, huh?" A pained hiss made her pause as she massaged the base of his skull. She traced a pattern on his bare back, over and over.

"Yeah." He shivered. She kissed the spot where the pain was worst.

"Why don't you go back to sleep? It's still early." The gentle suggestion hung in the still air.

As soon as she said sleep, he felt it tugging at him, like a child with a balloon. The bed had never felt softer under his back as he settled under the raw silk covers. She padded over to the wide window dressed in one of his shirts. The shutters creaked as she closed them and dropped the room into soft twilight.

"Rest." He didn't know if she said the word or if him dreamt it. It rocked him off to sleep like a lullaby.

She stood at the foot of the bed and watched him sleep. A cold smile curled her lips. Everything was working out just as she had planned. With that thought in mind, she left to ready the next stage of the plan. After the dim bedroom, the kitchen was a blaze of light. It faced the morning sun. The stone tiles where cold under her feet. She yawned and stretched as the chill woke her body up.

He won't know what's hit him, she thought with a laugh.

The noise must have roused him. "Rose?" he called weakly. "Oh, Rose..."

The pained loss in his voice made her pause. The tiny core of guilt that she kept tightly locked away fought to be free. It's for the best. The greater good. She told herself, but the cold feeling in her gut insisted otherwise. The taste of blood surprised her, and she realised that she'd been biting her lip. Her arms crossed over her stomach. She shook her head to chase the confusing thoughts away and went into the bathroom. The tiles felt good under her feet. Light sparkled on the marble sink as she ran water into it. The flowers by the window smelt wonderful. She soaked a washcloth in cold water, and took it back to the bedroom.

He lay tangled in the sheets, lost in dreams she could only guess about. The expression on his face hinted that they weren't pleasant. She knelt by the bed and sighed. The washcloth dripped water onto the floor by her knee. He shifted as she wiped his face.

"Rose?" Bleary brown eyes opened. A hint of a smile tensed his lips. She smiled back, and wiped a bead of sweat from his neck.

"Why are you smiling?" She ran the washcloth over his face again.

"You're here." A look of simple wonder crossed his face. He grabbed her hand. "I didn't dream this."

Guilt hit her hard. Look what you're doing to this man. This good man. Her conscience nagged her. He dosen't deserve this. The core of guilt in her gut settled deeper and she sniffed away tears. He loves you, and you're using him. Anger flared and chased the guilt back into its hiding place. And how many will die if I don't do this? Thousands... millions, in agony. It's for the greater good.

He must have seen the conflict in her eyes. His thumb startled her as he brushed it across her cheek. "What's wrong?"

She tried to smile and couldn't under his gaze. He frowned as she looked away and shook her head. His gentle touch turned her face back towards him. She closed her eyes so he couldn't see the turmoil and kissed him. He tugged her onto the bed with him. Together, tangled in the silk sheets they slept. In the privacy of the dim room, her tears fell like rain.