The hallway stretched before them.
Quiet except for the occasional echo of distant footsteps and Kyle's labored breathing.
Eleanora's arm remained firmly around his waist.
Her grip steady despite the awkward angle.
Kyle could feel the warmth of her through his torn combat uniform.
The faint scent of lavender and something distinctly her. Something expensive and refined, like the perfumed oils nobles used.
"So," Kyle began. Wincing as a particularly sharp jolt of pain shot through his ribs with each step.
"You are not gonna ask?"
Eleanora didn't look at him, her gaze fixed ahead. "Ask what?"
"Why I hid being a deviant."
She exhaled softly. Adjusting her hold as they rounded a corner.
"Everyone has secrets, Kyle. I'm not going to pry."
Kyle frowned.
That was...unexpectedly understanding.
He'd braced for at least some irritation. "Not even mad that if I'd used ice in the VR exams, we might have scored higher?"
This time, Eleanora did glance at him.
