Klaz

KLAZ

M y hopes for getting away from the crowd were dashed.

The promenade bustled with activity as Cinta and I made our way through the crowd. Passengers milled about, their excited chatter filling the air. I kept close to Cinta, hyperaware of her presence beside me.

“Look at that,” Cinta breathed, pointing at the vast viewing window.

The stellar frost had begun to form, delicate crystalline structures blossoming against the backdrop of space. Tendrils of ice spiraled outward, creating intricate patterns that shifted and changed before our eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I agreed, but my gaze was drawn to Cinta’s face. The soft blue glow of the frost illuminated her features, casting shadows that accentuated the curve of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips. My fingers twitched with the urge to trace the line of her jaw.

Cinta turned to me, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You’re not even looking at it.”

“I’ve seen stellar frost before,” I said gruffly. “But you... you’re something else entirely.”

A flush crept up her neck, and she quickly looked away. “Smooth talker. I bet you say that to all the girls.”

I shook my head. “Only you.”

Cinta’s eyes widened slightly, then her usual cocky grin was back in place. “Well, aren’t I the lucky one?”

We stood in silence for a while, watching as the frost continued to grow and change

“So,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “I’m guessing you haven’t had a boring life.”

I shrugged. “It had its moments.”

“Come on, there’s got to be more to it than that. Any good stories?”

I hesitated, memories of blood and violence flashing through my mind. “Nothing worth repeating,” I said finally.

Cinta studied me, her expression unreadable. “Fair enough. We’ve all got our secrets, right?”

“Right,” I agreed, grateful for her understanding. “What about you? How’d a nice girl like you end up running cons on luxury cruise ships?”

She looked startled, then laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “I’ve never been made so fast. Besides, who says I’m a nice girl?”

“Point taken,” I conceded with a small smile.

Cinta launched into a story about one of her early cons, gesturing animatedly as she spoke. The way her eyes lit up captivated me, the passion in her voice as she described outwitting her mark.

“...and then I walked out with the guy’s entire collection of rare Zenebian crystals,” she finished with a flourish.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Impressive.”

“Why, thank you,” Cinta said with an exaggerated bow. “I do try.”

On impulse, I reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, then stopped myself. What in all the seven hells was I doing?

Cinta’s smile faltered slightly, and she cleared her throat. “I could use a drink. You?”

“Yeah,” I said, grateful for the distraction. “I’ll go grab us something. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Cinta replied with a wink.

I made my way to the bar, weaving through the crowd. As I waited for our drinks, I glanced back at Cinta. She stood by the window, bathed in the ethereal light of the stellar frost. My chest tightened at the sight.

This was dangerous. I knew better than to get involved.

And yet, I couldn’t seem to stay away.

Drinks in hand, I turned back toward Cinta. My steps faltered as I saw an Orlian approach her, his sand-colored skin shifting to match the ambient lighting. Cinta’s body language changed instantly, her shoulders tensing as she took a small step back.

I quickened my pace, a growl building in my chest. As I drew closer, I could hear snippets of their conversation.

“...just one drink,” the Orlian was saying, his membranous appendages fluttering in what I assumed was meant to be an enticing manner.

“I appreciate the offer,” Cinta replied, her voice tight, “but I’m here with someone right now. Perhaps later?”

“I don’t see anyone,” the Orlian pressed, moving closer. “Surely you can spare a few minutes for-”

I stepped up behind the Orlian, using every inch of my imposing height to loom over him. “Is there a problem here?”

The Orlian spun around, his eyes widening as he took in my intimidating form. I bared my pointed canines in what could generously be called a smile.

“N-no,” the Orlian stammered. “No problem at all. I was just leaving.”

He scurried away, disappearing into the crowd. I turned back to Cinta. “Are you alright?”

Cinta nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the assist.”

I handed her a drink, my fingers brushing against hers. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass between us at the contact. “Anytime,” I said softly.

We turned back to the window, sipping our drinks in companionable silence.

Curiosity got the better of me. Always did.

“Do humans have any special holiday traditions? I’ve heard tales, but never from a human directly.”

Cinta’s brow furrowed. “Honestly, I don’t know much about Earth history. I read a book once, long ago, about giving presents in the snow?”

I studied Cinta’s face, noting the slight crease between her brows as she spoke about human traditions.

Interesting.

“You don’t seem to know much about your own people’s customs,” I observed, careful to keep my tone neutral.

Cinta shrugged. “Never had much reason to learn them, I guess. Holidays weren’t exactly a priority when you’re just trying to survive day to day.”

Her casual tone didn’t quite mask the faint undercurrent of pain in her voice. A surge of protectiveness coursed through my veins, wanting to shield her from the hardships she’d faced.

“Must have been tough,” I said softly.

“It was what it was,” Cinta replied, her gaze fixed on the swirling patterns of the stellar frost outside. “You learn to adapt.”

I nodded, understanding all too well how circumstances could shape a person’s path. “So, no fond memories of family gatherings or festive celebrations?”

Cinta’s laugh was sharp, tinged with a bitterness that made my chest ache. “Hardly. The closest thing I had to a holiday tradition was picking pockets at the annual Loriestan Races. Rich tourists, easy marks - it was like my own personal gift-giving season.”

I could picture it clearly - a younger Cinta, quick fingers and quicker wit, navigating the crowded streets with the skill of a seasoned thief. It was impressive, in its way, but a pang of sadness hit me for the childhood she’d missed out on.

“What about later?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Didn’t you ever want to... I don’t know, create your own traditions?”

Cinta’s expression softened slightly, a distant look in her eyes. “There was one time... with Elios, the Mondian dowager who took me in. She tried to introduce me to some of the ancient Earth customs. Said it was important to remember where we came from, even if we’d never been there ourselves.”

“And how did that go?” I prompted gently when she fell silent.

“It was... nice, I guess,” Cinta said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We had a tree with lights, exchanged gifts. But it all felt a bit hollow, you know? Like we were play-acting at something neither of us really understood.”

Her admission stirred something in me. We were both adrift, in a way, disconnected from our roots. “What about you?” she asked. “Any Vinduthi holiday customs?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t had a family for a long time. It’s not something I’ve thought about in years.”

Cinta’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry. That must be hard.”

Her compassion caught me off guard. I found myself speaking without thinking. “There was one tradition, when I was young. The Festival of Blades. Each family member would craft a small knife for another, imbuing it with their hopes for the recipient’s future.”

“That sounds... intense,” Cinta said with a small laugh.

I smiled, remembering. “It was. My father once gave me a blade with engravings of stars. He said it was to remind me that my potential was limitless.”

Cinta’s hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my body. “That’s beautiful, .”

Suddenly, streaks of light flashed by the windows. Around us, passengers gasped and pointed, exclaiming about the spectacular display.

“Wow, they really go all out for this frost celebration,” Cinta said, her eyes wide with wonder.

But I knew better. My combat instincts, honed over decades, screamed danger. Without hesitation, I grabbed Cinta and pulled her against me.

“Hey!” she protested, struggling. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I held her tighter, my body curling protectively around hers. “That’s not a light show,” I growled. “It’s laser fire. We’re under attack.”