PAC-4 SPRING

"When he won the election and was going to become the next regent and ambassador to Olasch, I decided he had to die before he had the chance to do the same thing to other women that he had done to my sister." Her gaze was steady, serious. "I’d do it again, Quent...I swear."

Quenton felt a sense of relief flow over him. After reading her file it was the one thing about her he had struggled with before he decided to propose. He’d still been afraid she might have some radical political convictions he could probably never understand or relate to. But vengeance? Revenge? Cold-blooded murder in the name of justice? These were things he understood and, in Clara’s case, even condone. He knew that in her place he would have done as much, or more.

"I wanted to tell you a hundred times, but..." A tear trickled down Clara’s cheek as she sobbed softly. Quenton folded his arms around her and held her close and her tears began to come freely, washing away this barrier between them like the rain had cleaned away the yellow dust.

"Thank you for telling me, Clara." He gazed past her tawny hair to the pale green shoots out in the field and felt his spirit rising again, this time unencumbered. He had to be the luckiest man on PAC-4. "Everything will be all right," he told her softly, and he knew it would.

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