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“When coins started showing up, my cousin thought Weston and Tessa were making rounds again. You’re not Wes, are you?” “No.”
At dinner one night, I overheard a woman telling her companion that it was adorable how the prince allowed his little mistress to dabble in medicine.
Our late night walks ended. So did our stolen kisses and private dinners. It’s left me feeling adrift. Uncertain.
He could have been killed. He could’ve been the killer. How does he go through every day like this?
But when I think about everything they’ve done wrong, I question whether I’m on the right side.
“Again. Welcome to life at court.” “Thanks. I hate it here.”
But he’s still the king, and he never has to be harsh to make my pulse jump.
“Now that,” he says, “is loyalty.” “It’s impressive,” says Harristan. His voice is cool and low, undercutting all the tension in the room. “It speaks to your character.”
I’m not doing this for myself. We need steel. You need Moonflower petals.” He casts a dark glance at the end of the table. “Since apparently your own countrymen are reluctant to provide them.”
“Forgive the prince’s pet apothecary, Captain,” Allisander says from his end of the table. “She understands little of politics and negotiation.” “On the contrary,” says Captain Blakemore. His eyes don’t leave mine. “I sense that Miss Cade understands quite a bit.”
She’s so clever. So brave. So empathetic. Unfortunately, he seems to be the same.
“Are you truly unsure,” Harristan says, “or are you worried that he’s caught Tessa’s eye?” That’s so on point that I frown and look over. “Do you really think he’s caught her eye?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Rocco agrees. “But … you could send a guardsman who knows his way around a ship. I grew up around the docks in Sunkeep. My brother and his wife still sail the trade route along the coast of Sunkeep and Steel City. I joined them when I took a week’s leave last spring.”
Despite what I’m doing, I’d somehow forgotten just how very desperate some of these people are.
She strides along beside me. “Maybe people will see us and think we’re Wes and Tessa!”
The captain is so principled. His people are so loyal. Kandala’s people are terrified of Prince Corrick. In the candy shop, for a spare moment, I was terrified of Prince Corrick. I wonder what that says about his character.
“You were saying that you’re no stranger to the mouth of a sailor.” In a second I’m going to have to throw myself overboard. “I meant—”
“Come home safe, little brother.” I give him a nod. “I promise. Be here when I get back.”
“Just wait. You’ll see.” He pauses, then throws a look of pure hatred Corrick’s way. “And when it happens,” he says to me, “be sure to tell Karri I loved her.”
He keeps so much of himself hidden that I somehow forgot he could be like this, all wildfire attraction and unbound passion.
But another part of me knows he’s only being so free because we are out of the palace, where Prince Corrick would never be caught bedding a … a commoner. We shouldn’t give Rocco and Kilbourne too much to think about.
Because there’s a part of that sentence that sounds like he’s protecting himself.
But despite all his promises, I know everything Corrick has done. The King’s Justice was feared throughout Kandala for a reason. And maybe the thought of asking questions about myself is too frightening to bear.
“I don’t deserve to be treated like a secret, Corrick.” A muscle in his jaw twitches. I wish he would say something. I wish he would do something.
That’s almost as shocking as the casual way the captain told me to help myself to his stateroom. It’s so different from Corrick, who reveals so little that every admission feels like I’ve stolen something.
The way he so openly professes a desire to help everyone—not just whoever might line his pockets.
I thought of Wes. Not Corrick.
“He won’t cause any problems. He’s eager to find a new supply of Moonflower.” Rian rubs a hand across his jaw. “Again,” he says gently, “I meant for you.”
“What I heard about you is vastly different from rumors about the King’s Justice.” He pauses. “Surely you can understand my confusion about the company you keep, and whether you’re at risk—or whether you’re at his side by your own choosing. Did Prince Corrick really hang bodies along the gates of the Royal Sector? To prevent thieving?”
“I’m usually the first one on deck, Miss Cade.” He pauses. “If you’d like to help me check the rigging tomorrow.” I take a deep breath and look into his eyes. “Of course, Captain Blakemore. I’m happy to help.”
I can lock away my feelings. I’ve been doing it for years.
Brock and Tor are the men who were bickering on the deck last night, but it seems they don’t hate each other; they just love to argue.
“No one fights on my ship. Not like this.”
“Brock,” Tor hisses. “Brock, it’s the captain.” It’s like Rian’s presence is magical, because Brock blinks slowly, then looks up. The tense readiness eases out of his frame. “Sorry, Cap.”
“I imagine your King’s Justice very well would have chained him to the bow. He probably would have done worse. And for what? Getting upset over a few careless words?” His eyes flick to his crew. Lochlan is laughing at something Tor has said now. “We’re one day out of port. If I start hanging men overboard, it would make for a very uncomfortable journey. For my people and yours.”
It’s not just that his people are loyal. They trust him.
“What … ah, what were you wondering?” “Yes, Captain.” Corrick speaks from off to my right. “What were you wondering?” Of course.
But I can’t stop thinking of Rian’s voice in the wind this morning. Lochlan is one of his people, is he not? Or the way Lochlan backed right down when he was allowed a moment of dignity, instead of rebelling against dark threats and armed guards. Even Kilbourne slammed him into the wall last night.
Choices never seem like choices when the world only offers us bad ones.
If you want to fix things in Kandala, you and your brother can’t keep putting your opponents in prison.”
When we stand in the shadows, he reminds me too much of Weston Lark, who was kind and good and would never hurt a soul. As usual, I need to remind myself that Wes was a part of the man in front of me. That goodness is inside him. But it’s just a part. Sometimes I worry that it’s not quite enough.
There’s a part of me that wants to lean over the railing just because I can. The thought feels juvenile, and I shove it away.
“That’s it?” I say. “I see?” “Yes,” he says. “Now I can claim to be judging you by fact.”
You’re the one who came begging for steel.” “Only because you couldn’t manage to reach Ostriary to beg for Moonflower.”
“In case there was any uncertainty, I don’t like you much either.” “Truly? You’ve been incredibly subtle.” “I’m going to knock you down the stairs.” He stops and turns, his eyes in shadow now. “Do not pick a fight with me.”
I’m not giving you or your people access to a room full of weapons that can be used against my crew.”
“Turn back,” I say. “Return to Artis. We can resolve this with Harristan right now.” “I will not sail directly into a storm because you’re in a pique over a locked door,” he says, and his voice is grudgingly tolerant, as if I’m a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“So make no mistake. When I pick a fight, you’ll know it.”
“Rian doesn’t have a lot of tolerance for rulers who mistreat their people,”
Rian’s not the type to leave someone hurting.” She shrugs. “So here we are.”
