I yank away and suck in a ragged breath. He might as well have slapped me. I wanted that future. I wanted it so badly.
Avery pulls me back. “But don’t you see? You deserve more. Sebastian doesn’t love you as he should. He loves you—even I can’t deny that. But is he in love with you? You pine after him, adore him, would do anything for him. But does he feel the same?”
“How do you know he doesn’t?” I demand.
“Because he let you walk out of his grandfather’s shoppe with me.”
His words sting. I want to fight him, tell him he’s wrong. But there’s a shard of cold truth there. But what truly bothers me is the fact that I walked out on Sebastian. If I loved him as I should, would I have left him with Adeline?
You did it because you had no choice.
Or I was perhaps hoping that if I gave him the ultimatum, he would choose me. And he didn’t.
I sag against the captain, exhausted. “It wasn’t your place to decide my future.”
“I know.”
“Are you at least sorry for that?”
He thinks on it for longer than I expect.
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I betrayed your trust.” He pauses and then, as if testing the water, grazes his knuckle up my spine, making me shiver. Lowering his voice, he continues, “But I’m not sorry for taking the orchids. I’m not sorry that I want you for myself. And I’m certainly not sorry you’re in my arms right now.”
I’m flush against him, and the heat from his chest warms me, sinks into my hurting heart. My mouth goes dry, and I lick my lips. Avery’s eyes follow the movement.
A shot of heat runs through my veins. My anger’s still there, but it takes a new shape, one I don’t recognize—one that’s not so easy to fight.
Is it wrong to want someone who isn’t constantly pushing me away for once? Who isn’t trying to keep me at arm’s length? Maybe not.
But is it wrong to want someone I don’t even like?
I wage an internal war that leaves me with a headache and a slimy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“You should go,” I murmur, letting my eyes fall to the ground. Taking the high road should be satisfying, but it’s far from it.
Avery watches me for another moment, and then he steps back. He glances toward the window. “We should leave now, before dawn. We’re both awake anyway.”
***
We’ve gained a guard and lost any delusions that we won’t be attacked due to Avery’s connections. We scarcely stop in the next days and take short breaks only when we need to switch horses. One guard rests while the other two stay alert, and they switch off driving. Avery occasionally joins them, and I try to sleep while he’s gone.
Tired of the tight quarters in the carriage, Flink claimed the luggage cubby this morning. I would sit up there with him if Avery and the guards would only let me.
Alone for the time being, I’ve stretched my legs between the seats in the most unladylike sort of way, slouched down, neck pressed against the velvet backrest, arms hanging in the empty space between the seats. I wear a hunting outfit—trousers, cinched up corset belt, puffy long-sleeved blouse with cuffs at the wrists, and a long jacket that mimics the outer skirt of a dress—so the position is not entirely scandalous. Bored almost to tears, I count the buttons in the tufted areas of the upholstered seat across from me.
Fifty-four, fifty-five…
The carriage flies down the road, which is nothing new at this point. I’m used to the jarring ride. We’ve just reached the Tanrith province boundary, and we should be to Teirn by tomorrow afternoon.
Just as I’m on seventy-three, the carriage slows, and we come to a stop.
Avery sticks his head through the door. “One of the horses is showing signs of lameness, and we need to check him. Do you need to visit the woods?”
A few days ago, that question might have embarrassed me. Now I don’t even blink. “No.”
The captain takes in my precarious position and smiles. “Would you like to stretch your legs?”
I angle my head toward him. “Will you allow it?”
“You look like you’ll go mad if I don’t let you out.”
Groaning, I lower my rump to the carriage floor, allowing my legs to flop to the side as I unfold myself. “I think I’d welcome an attack at this point.”
I’ve been under “carriage arrest” for far too long.
“Take your bow,” Avery suggests, smiling. “Just in case you get lucky.”
I don’t get lucky. We don’t see so much as a meadow imp, and one of the guards knows just enough restoration magic to patch the mare up until we reach an actual healer in Teirn, so our stop is painfully short.
We continue on. I stare out the window; I stare at the ceiling; I count the buttons in the seat again. The day wears on. We stop a few more times to tend to the poor horse, and Avery tosses me a half-full pack of nuts and dried apricots. We ran out of meat yesterday, so now we’re eating like birds.
Evening falls, and I attempt to sleep only to be awoken by Avery climbing into the carriage.
“We need to talk,” he says, his tone all business.
I yawn, stretching, and pull myself up to a sitting position. I’m kind enough to move my bow from the opposite seat so the captain will have a place to sit. See there? We’re making progress.
“By now, news will have traveled that we’re together,” Avery says as he claims the seat. “I’m sure the Serpent is being watched this very moment. We may have to fight our way on.”
“And once we’re at sea?”
Avery frowns and taps his fingers on his crossed arms. “We’ll deal with that when we have to.”
“Do you have any idea how we’re going to get aboard?” I peer out the dark window, wondering what time of night he decided to wake me up.
He watches me for several moments, and then a slow, crooked smile builds on his face. “I do.”
***
“This is your grand idea?” I adjust the peasant bonnet over my hair and tie it securely under my chin. I’m sure it looks awful, but it’s no worse than the sun hats Mother used to make me wear when I was young.
Avery stretches out his arm, frowning at the scratchy brown tunic that’s several inches too short. “No one will recognize us. It’s brilliant.”
I glance at the wagon Avery just bought. It’s full of hay that could spontaneously (or not so spontaneously) burst into flames at any moment. Flink’s hiding underneath.
“I’m sure posing as a peasant is an enjoyable novelty for you,” I say to the captain, “but even that getup won’t hide that you’re not a farmer.”
“Why?” He turns to me, one light brown eyebrow raised in disbelief. He sets his hands on his hips, posing like a hero statue of old. “I think I am the picture of a rugged farmer.”
“For one, you’re far too clean.”
For another, he’s a little too good-looking. Not that a farmer can’t be handsome…but maybe not as well groomed. Not that I’m going to tell him that.
He watches me for a moment, thinking. Then, to my disbelief, he leans down, scoops a handful of dirt into his palms, and rubs it over his face and hair. I gape at him, wondering if he’s lost his mind.
“Your turn,” he teases, smirking as he threatens to come closer.
I pull my dagger from the sheath hidden under my apron. “Don’t think I won’t.”
The captain only grins and holds his hands out so I may better admire his getup. “Better though, right?”
Now he looks like a lord who rolled in the street.
“Never mind.” I frown at the hay. It’s wiggling. “Tell me again why we would deliver hay to a ship?”
“It’s for the load of goats Captain Greybrow is taking to Brenilsilté.” Avery wags his eyebrows like he thinks he’s clever.
A smile tugs at my lips, but I firmly clamp them together, refusing to fall victim to his charm. We may have found a way to get along in the last few days, but I still loathe him
. At least, I’m trying to. For reasons I cannot even put into words, it seems important to hold onto my anger, so I’m clinging to it like flotsam in a stormy sea.
Deciding it’s best to ignore him when he’s like this, I climb into the driver’s seat of the wagon.
“I do believe that’s my spot,” Avery complains as he forces me to scoot over.
It’s like no one believes I can drive a wagon.
I keep the reins, refusing to hand them over. “When have you ever drove a wagon?”
“What’s that Captain Greybrow?” he asks, pretending to mimic some other nonexistent passenger. “You’ve safely sailed through the Eye of Printoneas? Or course you can handle a couple horses.”
I eye him, scowling. “Why are you in such a good mood?”
He leans close, giving me a good view of his gold-flecked eyes. “Because we are almost back to my ship, and I will once again feel whole.”
“You need a ship to feel whole?”
He takes the reins, and to his credit, does a fine job driving. “A captain without a ship is like—”
“Lucia without her orchids?” I smile sweetly, but there’s no real fight in my voice.
But after I say it, my mood falls because that’s not the real answer. Lucia without her Sebastian.
When did I become so dependent on him? Perhaps our relationship isn’t healthy. And perhaps it is a bit one-sided, but I can’t help but think that if I’m this lost without him, surely he’s missing me too.
“What will your crew do when you drive up to the pier with a hay cart?” I ask, pushing my sadness back. It’s too dangerous to dwell on it now.
“My crew is good at…playing along.”
“You’re such a pirate.”
He chuckles under his breath. “I’ll pretend you say that as a term of endearment.”
“I don’t.”
We drive through the streets, and so far, no one pays us any attention. Teirn is the capital city of Kalae, where the king lives. It’s the nobles’ playground. They flock here for the mild winters and blissfully hot summers spent by the ocean. I’ve only been here once, but it’s just as beautiful as I remember. The walkways are set apart from the streets and lined with brightly blooming flowers. Young courtiers linger outside the shoppes, wearing gauzy gowns in a multitude of pastels. Many have tiny munchkin dragons in little satchels at their sides—tiny, less volatile, versions of Flink.
The last time I was here, I was dressed very much as I am now and was mistaken for Sebastian’s maid. How I wish I could wear one of my gowns, or even one of my hunting outfits. No one would remember me—we were here years ago when we first started our scouting partnership—but I feel conspicuous nonetheless.
The salt and sea smell stronger as we near the docks, and gulls’ greedy cries pierce the hubbub of the city streets. Avery moans when the Greybrow Serpent comes into view. “There she is.”
I roll my eyes and watch for signs of bounty hunters. It’s impossible to tell where they may be lurking. There are so many people loitering about. Just as I’m thinking that Avery’s plan might actually work, my eyes slide across the pier to a familiar group. A well-dressed man happens to look over, and our gazes meet. He narrows his eyes as if he’s trying to place me. Recognition comes back to me at the same time it lights his eyes.
“Go faster,” I whisper to Avery.
“What did you see?” he asks, instantly guarded. He subtly scans the crowd.
“That man in the group there. I snubbed him a few years ago, and I’m afraid he may remember. He’s looking this way.”
“Making friends all over Kalae, are you?” Avery finds the group, and then he very quietly curses under his breath.
“Avery?” the man hollers out, perplexed when he notices my companion and realizes who he is. And then he grins, knowing without a doubt he’s spotted the captain. Laughing, he yells, “Greybrow, get down here. What ruse are you playing at?”
We both stiffen, and Avery mutters a string of coarse words that finally make him resemble a farmer more than a well-respected captain.
The women in the group turn as well, their faces lighting up at Avery’s name.
“Avery!” a dark-haired girl hollers.
“Friends of yours?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“Loud ones.”
Around us, men and women stop to gawk. My palms begin to sweat. There are people everywhere—possibly armed and dangerous, money-hungry, bounty-hunting people.
The man catches one of our horses by his harness, stopping him in the street. “It’s been ages, Avery. What’s with the getup?”
Dead. We’re dead.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
“Gerard…” Avery stutters as he tries to think of something. At the same time, he scans the crowd.
The man’s eyes suddenly go wide, and he leans in. “Is this some kind of covert thing you have going on here?”
“It was,” I snarl, unable to help myself even though I know I shouldn’t sass off to this man. He has powerful connections.
He looks at me, almost smiling. “It was years ago, but I remember you. You were with… who was it?” He narrows his eyes and snaps. “He was one of the Reginae Thanes. Explains what you’re doing with the captain here.”
Startled, I open my mouth, but before I can ask what he means, an arrow whizzes past my ear. So much for blending in with the crowd.
Fast as lightning, Avery reaches for his sword. I’m whipping my bow out of the hay and already nocking an arrow of my own. The crowd begins to murmur like bleating sheep, everyone looking for the archer with the bad aim. Several men race toward us, pushing through the crowd, rapiers raised. I leap from the wagon just as Flink bursts from the hay, spitting out those ridiculous golden sparkles again. And though they’re pathetic, it’s just enough to really rile the crowd up. Women scream, and people push this way and that.
Gerard stands next to us, looking baffled. “Found yourself some bad company, Captain?”
Avery only grunts a retort and meets one of the men head on. The fellow’s rapier isn’t much against Avery’s ancient broadsword, but he’s quick, and he has a dagger in the other hand. I use Gerard as a shield and aim over his shoulder, trying to get a good shot at the other man, who’s temporarily trying to figure out how to maneuver around my scary-looking lesser dragon to get to me.
Without hesitation, I let my arrow fly. The man screams as the arrow pierces the skin above his knee. He falls to the ground, writhing. It’s a painful hit, though not lethal.
Gerard flinches, groaning, and then glances over his shoulder, almost grinning. “Are you hiding behind me?”
“Not anymore.” I step around him, nocking another arrow, ready to take the same shot to the man fighting Avery, but there’s no need. The captain takes one slice to the man’s sword arm and gives him a good boot into the water.
Just when I think we’re done, another man slinks through the crowd, this one with the movement of a trained assassin, and another comes up from behind. I’m just taking aim when a deafening crack sounds down the pier, making the entire crowd duck for cover. The constable’s men have arrived, and they shoot another noise charm into the air. Harmless, but my ears ring. Avery shoves his way to me.
“Avery—” I start to say, but he grabs me by the upper arm and yanks me toward the wagon.
“I apologize in advance for what I’m about to do,” he says as he pulls me roughly onto the seat.
I stumble after him, trying to yank away. “What are you—”
“Listen well citizens of Teirn!” Avery hollers out, standing on the wooden seat, still holding me roughly by my bicep.
What is he doing?
The crowd goes quiet, still stunned by the riot charm, and the duke’s men look on.
“I am Captain Avery Greybrow, and this is Lucia of Reginae. She is a wanted criminal, and she is my prisoner.” He holds my arm up higher, almost painfully so, yanking me closer toward him. “Let it be known—let the news be sprea
d—that if anyone so much as touches her while she is in my possession, they will suffer the wrath of Captain Alexander Greybrow, the Earl of Mardin and Lady Geraldina Delouse, Baroness of Wintmeyer, daughter of the Thanes of Reginae.”
The crowd murmurs, and my head churns both with confusion and embarrassment.
“To make myself very clear,” he continues, his voice booming, “I am staking claim on her bounty. To take her now is an act of treason against my family and me.”
You’d think someone would question him considering he’s wearing peasant’s clothing and dirt on his face, but it’s just as I said. None of that can hide his noble birth. He wears it like a cloak on his shoulders. My face flames as people gawk at me. Several children point, and their mothers usher them away as if I am a heartless murderer. The two attacking men seethe with rage, but they stand down.
I’m going to kill him.
“Now make way.” Avery lowers my arm but doesn’t unhand me. “I am boarding my ship.”
CHAPTER TEN
Aboard the Greybrow Serpent. Again.
“So,” Avery says conversationally as he leans against the rail next to me. “Are we talking yet?”
“No.”
With sea spray on my face, and the mainland provinces of Kalae behind me, I can pretend yesterday on the pier never happened. I’m not doing a good job of it, but I’m trying.
“Don’t you think you’ll feel better if you get all that anger out?” he asks, flippant. “Isn’t that how women work? You need to mull your emotions over and all that?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t believe prisoners are required to be friendly to their jailers.” I peer at him. “And I’m not really a ‘talk about it’ kind of girl.”
Avery crosses his arms and gets cozy on the rail—showing no signs of leaving. “What kind of girl are you then?”
I narrow my eyes. “The kind who prefers to vent her frustration with a dagger. Come closer; I’ll show you how it works.”
He chuckles low, obviously amused. “Point taken. But you need to at least listen to me—”
Greybrow Serpent (Silver and Orchids Book 2) Page 8
