Resenting the Hero by Moira J. Moore Page B

if it weren’t for her.”
    I didn’t glare at him as he shook hands with the others. I refused to feel embarrassed about introducing him by his proper legal name. If he didn’t like it, he should have mentioned it earlier.
    â€œWe’ve heard a lot about you, Shintaro,” said Rundle.
    â€œTaro, please.”
    â€œAnd all of it good,” Van Staal said, settling onto another stool.
    â€œYou’re lucky you’re here in time for the Star Festival,” McKenna said to me. “I take it you can dance the benches?”
    Of course. “I’m a Shield, aren’t I?”
    â€œAre you any good?”
    I was excellent. “I’ve never broken anything.” Which should tell them enough about my skill without my having to brag.
    The outer door opened again, and three more people entered the kitchen. Shield Ogawa, a tall, skeletal woman with her blond hair cropped close to her scalp. Source Bet Farin, a small woman with dark hair and eyes and a lot of curves. She was McKenna’s partner, and from the way the older woman tensed, it was obvious that the two did not get along. And Source Val Tenneson, Ogawa’s partner, a plain, thin man with merry eyes.
    â€œFebray and Heiner are on duty in the observation post right now,” McKenna told us. “The others are helping set up for the festival. You’ll meet them tonight.” She said to Ogawa, “Mallorough’s going to dance.”
    â€œExcellent.” Ogawa smiled. “I like a challenge.”
    â€œUh.” Time to nip that in the bud. “I actually won’t be dancing tonight. I’m exhausted. I’ll just get some sleep.”
    â€œYou can’t do that,” Ogawa objected. “It’s the Star Festival. You can’t miss that because of a few aches and pains. You’re too young to let one day of riding wipe you out.”
    â€œI’m really very tired.”
    â€œSo take a nap. A couple hours’ sleep, a bath, and a good meal will put you back in fine form and give me the chance to beat you on the benches.”
    â€œReally, I wouldn’t be a challenge.”
    â€œReally,” Karish interrupted sharply, “she’s very sensitive to music, and she doesn’t trust me to guide her through it.”
    Well. That stopped everything.
    Van Staal took a quick sip from his mug for something to do and hit his teeth against the rim so hard we could all hear it in the sudden silence.
    No one had anything to say. I could have smacked Karish for making everyone so uncomfortable. I wondered how he knew about my unusual sensitivity to music. I didn’t remember talking about it.
    â€œI never said that.” Ugh. It was the first thing out of my mouth, and it was weak. But I let it stand. Adding anything would only make it worse.
    He was watching me, his face blank. Perhaps he thought to intimidate me. I looked right back at him. I had nothing else to say. He had made his accusation, and I had denied it. Sort of. His turn.
    He rose to his feet. “Let’s take a walk, Lee.”
    Now he wanted privacy. Excellent timing. And quite the perfect example of the magnanimous lord escorting the errant servant out for a well-bred chastisement.
    I could refuse to go with him. Then he would ask me again, and again, becoming ever more patient as I appeared increasingly childish. Or he could just say whatever he had to say in front of everyone else. That wouldn’t look terribly professional, either. So against my better judgment I tilted my head in acquiescence and set my mug on the table. “If you will excuse us,” I said to our audience, then I followed my irritating Source.
    He strode down the sidewalk. I glared at him, for I needed two steps to his one. I probably looked like some little rat-dog scampering along beside him.
    â€œHave I ever insinuated you couldn’t do your job?” he asked sharply.
    â€œYou insinuated I wasn’t doing