Mal shifted restlessly in his bunk. Having gotten shockingly used to the luxury of stretching out on Inara’s huge bed while recovering from his unpleasant second encounter with Atherton Wing, he felt more than a little cramped in his own narrow bunk.

Pleasuring Inara was just about the most amazing thing he could ever have imagined happening in his life, but he had found that simply lying beside her on those decadently cool satin sheets, whispering in the dark, was a gorram close second. Problem was, it made the nights he spent alone seem all manner of long and torturous.

Inara and her satin-sheeted bed were gone. Having come to her decision to retire from her profession in favor of a life spent with him, she had taken her shuttle to Sihnon to settle her business affairs at the Guild House there. Mal had offered to accompany her, eager to do anything that would aid her progress, but Inara had quickly and inarguably refused his company, saying only that his presence would further complicate matters. What matters those were exactly, he did not know, and it was painfully obvious to him that she did not wish him to learn. Punching his pillow into submission, he fell into a fitful sleep, the last thought in his mind the mysteries of the woman whose absence had been stealing his sleep for two weeks now.

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“It is the decision of the counsel to accept your resignation, Inara,” the house priestess of Madrassa said. “Though I personally must say I am highly disappointed by your choice. To demean yourself in such a manner shows a certain…base nature I would never have expected of you.”

Inara, stung by the words, blinked back unwanted tears. Though she of course did not agree with the older woman, Inara had spent years conforming to the opinions of people of position in the Guild, and she had a certain amount of ingrained respect for them. She bowed her head in deference. “With your permission, Honorable Mother, may I speak freely?”

The older woman barely contained a snort. “You’ve ce