The Seer (Tellaran Series) by Ariel MacArran Read Free Book Online Page B

why don’t you get dressed? I’ve gotten you something to eat, then we can talk.”
    “About what you want me to do?” she asked quickly before he could go. “You said yesterday you would explain.”
    He hesitated. “Yes.” He took a step back. “Tea or caf?”
    “Oh, uh, tea, please.”
    The door closed behind him. Grabbing her clothes Arissa went into the bathroom, and winced when she saw her reflection. Her dark curls were as wild as she feared. Her skin looked as thin and pale as parchment, the black brows over her too-large green eyes arched like frightened birds in flight.
    She cleaned her teeth and washed her face, rubbing her chapped lips a little with a damp cloth in hopes of making them look better. She’d worn balm on her lips at home but she’d run out of it months ago.
    A quick search of the bathroom yielded a lucky find and she was able to make her bare nails neat and presentable again with the complementary manicure tools. She smoothed her hair but didn’t have any way of styling it or pinning it up. She put the tan tunic and pants back on and tied the belt and examined at the results of her efforts in the mirror.
    She sighed. Scrawny and still plain as a mud sparrow, but at least she was tidy.
    Jolar’s expression was pensive, his long legs stuck out in front of him as he sprawled in one of the dining room chairs but he straightened and offered a smile as soon as he saw her.
    “I thought you might be hungry again,” he said with a nod at the dish-laden table. 
    She flushed, remembering her appalling manners yesterday.
    He was already pulling off the covers. “I didn’t know you’d like so I ordered a bunch of different things.”
    He certainly had. The table was nearly full. Some of the selections were meat dishes, some traditional evening fare, some more usual for breakfast. A number of the selections were Apovian — including one of her favorites, fried hoss. A quick, nervous brush against his mind showed he was intentionally trying to put her at ease.
    Made shy by his unexpected thoughtfulness, she sat down and filled her plate. Jolar sat across from her but took nothing for himself.
    She stopped, fork in hand. “Aren’t you having any?”
    “I’ve already eaten.”
    She frowned. There was a lot of food. “I can’t eat all this.”
    “You don’t have to. Eat what you want and we’ll have the rest cleared away.”
    She fingered her fork for a moment. Throw all that away? It was enough to keep her for a week if she could save it.
    “There’s plenty to eat on this ship, Arissa,” he said gently. “I promised, remember? I won’t let you go hungry.”
    She nodded, embarrassed that so much of her thoughts showed on her face, and started on her meal.
    He was watching her eat again.
    “Why don’t you tell me what you need to do?” she suggested, ducking her head.
    “It can wait till you’re done.”
    She finished a plateful in minutes. He poured her a cup of tea and catching the aroma she smiled widely.
    “Gods, I can’t remember the last time I had white tea.” She took the cup he offered and inhaled the spicy, sweet fragrance. She took a sip. It was too hot but it didn’t matter.
    “How long were you on Tellar?”
    Her smile faded, the cup cradled in her hand. “Right after my—almost eight months. My uncle put me on the transport the next morning.”
    “I’m sorry about your parents,” he said quietly.
    “Thank you.” Her eyes stung and she swallowed hard. “No one . . . You’re the first person who said so to me.”
    His sense grew heavy.
    “I didn’t mean—I don’t want you to regret saying something.”
    His blue eyes were guarded now. “I don’t know how I feel about you being able to sense my emotions all the time.”
    “You feel vulnerable,” she blurted, then flushed.
    He went still. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
    “And uneasy,” she added carefully.
    He gave a humorless laugh. “What a diplomatic way of saying you scare the piss out of