Discordant.
And yet, not.
It had been true of the music. And the room, with its soothing red walls and agitating congregation of humans.
It was true of the blue-eyed man called Trip, and his presence in her mind. He lingered, disturbing other thoughts, and yet, somehow -
His presence was discordant and soothing. It suggested a future other than that she had been prepared for her entire life. Education. Experience. Eventually, take her betrothed mate and begin a family.
Discordant, to consider anything other. And yet, soothing. It was a paradox.
Or perhaps, a deeper form of personal logic.