Nanere isn’t interested in most men. They’re too high maintenance, interested in keeping her around, being there for her, and insinuating themselves into her life.
She doesn’t want that. She takes what she wants, builds the ships her queen asks of her, then moves on to the next port to bury herself anew in metal flesh.
Then there’s Kasuru.
She traces his scars at night, and he kisses her fingers without answering unspoken questions. They drink coffee, argue over designs and engineering, then separate to their work without a word or call.
It’s nice enough to do again. And again.