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nodded mutely and offered her a hand up.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    There was at least one comforting thing about Fort Mallimae. Everyone there knew that if they touched Vivienne, Que would not be pleased, and they all seemed to hold Que in some sort of esteem. It was comforting, in a strange sort of way, knowing that she would only have to deal with one man hounding her.
     
    Hours after they returned from the city—after Bai had been returned to the stable, Vivienne had been given new clothes, and Que and Vivienne had gone their separate ways—Vivienne’s skin still crawled.
     
    She tried to simply keep to herself for the rest of the evening, but her mind kept returning to what had almost happened on that side street.
     
    Eventually, before her own thoughts could drive her crazy, Vivienne stepped out of her room. She stood outside the door and waited and as soon as she saw someone coming down the hall, she all but accosted him, stepping in front of him and jabbing a finger at his face. It took her a moment to recognize him as the man who usually delivered things to her room.
     
    “You’re going to show me where Que sleeps. It’s late, I’m tired, I’ve had an awful day, and if you argue with me, I will make you miserable as creatively as I can.”
     
    Whatever sort of expression she had on her face, the young man actually looked nervous because of it. To his credit, he didn’t argue. He simply nodded once, turned, and started walking again.
     
    Once she was standing outside of Que’s door, she hammered one fist against it until he opened it. He stared at her, looking marginally perplexed.
     
    “This seems backwards,” he commented after a moment.
     
    Hands on either side of the doorframe to keep it from sliding closed on her, Vivienne stated, “You let me go earlier. You let me run.”
     
    “Yes,” Que confirmed slowly.
     
    “I didn’t expect you to make it all the way to Crystallocke, though.”
     
    “Why?” Vivienne asked. “Why did you let me go?”
     
    “Does it actually matter?” Que asked, sounding faintly surly.
     
    “ Yes ,” Vivienne answered emphatically.
     
    “So just answer the question. Why did you let me go?”
    Que huffed out an irritated sigh, and when he spoke, it sounded like the words were being reluctantly pulled out, one by one.
     
    “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he admitted, his tone quiet and almost sulky.
     
    Vivienne considered his answer carefully for a moment before she stepped into the room, finally letting the door slide closed behind her. The room was largely the same as hers, albeit with a larger bed and a few personal items scattered about.
     
    She placed her hands on Que’s chest and shoved, walking him backwards towards the bed.
     
    “You are going to make me forget about today,” she informed him, her tone brooking no argument.
     
    “Because if you don’t, I’m going to keep thinking about it and I’m going to start screaming. No one here wants that to happen.”
     
    Que didn’t argue. He grabbed her hips and slid his hands down, over her ass, to grab the backs of her thighs and pick her up, as if she weighed nothing at all.
     
    Vivienne wrapped her legs around his waist and that time, she kissed him, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips until they parted.
     
    They fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, hands stroking over skin and hips rutting together. Vivienne sprawled out on her back, Que straddling her hips.
     
    Vivienne began tugging at the buttons of Que’s pants as he began undoing the laces of her shirt. The buttons gave way and Vivienne shoved the pants down far enough for Que to simply kick them off. 
     
    As he continued pulling at the laces of her shirt, she began untying his, hands working much more quickly than his, so that they finished at the same time. As Que leaned back to shrug his shirt off, Vivienne sat up and squirmed out of hers so she could toss it over the side of the bed.
     
    Que