Avery groans out loud and clenches his eyes shut as he tilts his head toward the sky. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
My gaze flickers between them. Though I’m curious what they’re speaking about, I’m mostly overwhelmed by their relationship. It’s as if they’re…friends. Which I find very strange. Does a king have friends? I mean, is that generally allowed? Aren’t they supposed to sit on their thrones, looking down at the rest of us with vague disinterest?
Much to my horror, King Harold slides my hand on his arm, obviously planning on escorting me into the castle. I glance at Avery, wondering if I’ll be tossed into the dungeon if I protest. But the captain has his hands full. Minerva sidles up next to him, sliding her hand along his arm before he even offers. Avery frowns at the contact, but he doesn’t make a fuss.
I snap my gaze forward, trying not to think of the two of them together. Luckily, I can only focus on so many things at once, and the castle demands my entire attention. There are grand things everywhere—ancient, shining shields on the walls, glistening suits of armor, tapestries, rugs, statues, art galore, and an absolutely massive charmed fountain inside the four-story foyer.
A minstrel stands in front of the water feature, quietly plucking away on his lute. Remembering Minerva’s snide chicken maid comment, I try to appear very cultured and disinterested, but I find myself gaping. There’s simply too much to take in.
The king leads us past the fountain, through a tall pair of doors, right into what appears to be the royal throne room. The courtiers who loitered in the courtyard follow us in, making it seem as if we are leading a great parade.
We leave the multitudes behind when we pass through another set of doors, these ones the size doors should be. The room beyond is welcoming with lots of soft places to sit. There’s even a crackling fire in the hearth, though it’s too warm for one. The room is a pleasant temperature, however, which makes me think the flames might be charmed to add ambiance only.
A young woman leaps up from a settee the moment we walk into the room, a huge grin spreading across her very lovely face. “Avery!”
I’m certain she’d fly right across the room, assaulting the captain, if it weren’t for the elderly woman next to her, who grabs hold of the back of the girl’s bodice, keeping her in place. The woman is stately, tall and elegant. Her eyes are sharp, and she vaguely reminds me of someone, though I cannot place whom.
“Hello, Grandmother,” Avery says as soon as he enters the room, and it all snaps into place. This is Sebastian’s great aunt, and judging from the hawkish look on her face, she’s not going to like me any more than Lord Thane. Avery turns his eyes on the girl and grins. “Elizabetta.”
She bounces on her toes, making her long, blond curls sway, and shoots her grandmother a pleading look. Sighing in the most refined way, the woman releases Elizabetta, but not before she gives the girl a sharp look, reminding her to mind her manners.
On the island, Avery told me his sister was thirteen, but she looks closer to fourteen now. Nodding to her grandmother, Elizabetta smooths her skirts and gives the king and queen a polite curtsy before hurrying to her brother. She stares at him for several seconds before she tosses her arms around him, holding him tightly. “You didn’t say goodbye,” she says, sobbing into his tunic.
Avery loops his arms around her, smiling in a brotherly way. “There wasn’t time, Betta.”
“You could have left a note!” Then she pulls back and, just like younger sisters are prone to do, smacks him in the stomach.
Avery doubles over, his face etched with pain from the ever-healing stab wound. Everyone of us but the baffled Elizabetta leaps forward to see if he’s all right.
“What’s wrong with him?” she says, her voice small and terrified. “Avery?”
The captain shoos us all away and takes a moment to breathe deep before he turns back to his sister. “I’m fine.”
Elizabetta blinks back her previous tears, but it looks like she’s about to start a whole new batch. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Avery.” Worry shadows her pretty face. “Tell me.”
“It was just a dagger—”
“A dagger!” She takes a step back, looking like she’s about to lose her composure again.
Avery clears his throat. “It’s nothing, Betta. It’s almost healed.”
Not believing her brother, Elizabetta turns to her grandmother. “Did you know? Is that the reason we came to greet him? Because he’s injured?”
“Calm yourself, Elizabetta,” Lady Claire says, clearly uncomfortable with the scene.
Elizabetta sucks in a breath and stares at the bottom of her skirts.
Like a sweet mother hen, Minerva tucks the girl to her side and escorts her back to the settee like they are dear friends. I watch them, not liking that one bit.
I step next to Avery and ask him under my breath, “Are you all right?”
“It was just a twinge,” he whispers.
“Liar.”
He grins at me, stealing my breath away. And it hits me as I take in our surroundings—who is this man I exchanged vows with on that solitary island a world away? Surely this is not his life.
And if it is, what could he possibly see in me? Now more than ever, I realize it’s very dangerous to let myself have feelings for the captain.
But that’s easier said than done when he looks at me like that.
Before I can ponder it longer, a guard clears his throat from the doorway. “Gerard has arrived with Captain Greybrow’s companions.”
It’s funny how the addition of a few people you know can put you at ease in a crowd of strangers. All it takes is one look at Sebastian and Adeline, and I don’t feel as out of place. My relief must show on my face because it takes Sebastian off guard. He falters for a moment, and he raises a questioning brow. I offer him a tiny smile. It’s the most heartfelt interaction we’ve had in a month.
Adeline sweeps into the room, a vision in her frothy sea-green gown, and immediately drops into a curtsy in front of the king and queen. It is so beautifully executed, I can’t help but wonder if she’s been waiting for this moment all her life.
“Your Majesties,” Sebastian says, bowing in greeting just as Avery did earlier. “We are honored.”
After watching how comfortable they seem, I can’t help but question how it came to be that all my friends instinctively know how to address royalty.
Minerva smiles at the pair. Her eyes linger for a moment on Sebastian, and I know what she’s thinking.
When Sebastian and Avery are side-by-side as they are now, it’s easy to tell they’re related, even if their coloring is very different. If Avery is a golden morning in summer, Sebastian is twilight in autumn. But they’re both strong and tall—each intimidating in their own way. Even their expressions are similar, though Avery’s most often smirking and Sebastian usually tries very hard to keep his features blank.
“Aunt Claire?” Sebastian says in surprise when he straightens. His eyes widen in shock, and his gaze darts to Avery.
And possibly for the first time since I made the great announcement that he and Avery are kin in Mesilca, Sebastian truly believes. His jaw tightens as he looks at Lady Claire, and the color drains from his cheeks. But, ever the gentleman, he shakes his head to free himself of his shock and dons a cordial, if somewhat distant, expression.
Adeline walks across the room, the picture of grace, and takes Lady Claire’s hand. With the sweetest smile, in the most heartfelt way, she says, “It’s such a pleasure to see you again, Lady Claire.” Then she beams at Avery’s sister. “And Elizabetta, too.”
It doesn’t bother me the way it did when Minerva was doting on her—but Adeline doesn’t do it in a way that makes me think she’s demonstrating the natural order of things.
“You all know each other then?” Lady Claire asks.
Adeline nods. “Oh, yes. We just sailed back from Mesilca on Captain Greybrow’s ship.”
> “You were together?” The lady looks genuinely surprised. She turns to Avery. “I wasn’t aware you are well-acquainted with your cousin.”
“It was a shock to us all,” Sebastian deadpans.
To others, he sounds friendly enough, but to me…well, I know. Sebastian catches me pressing my lips together, trying to hide my amusement, and a ghost of a smile crosses his face.
Harold waves a hand in the air. “Please, sit. There’s no reason for us to hover.”
We all turn about, looking for a spot to rest. I choose the bench closest to me—probably the only hard, unupholstered seat in the room. I fully expect Minerva to find a place next to Avery, but he crosses the room and sits by my side. I am grateful for the tiny gesture, and though I tell myself he’s only being polite, a few butterflies flit in my stomach.
“Now, Avery,” Harold says, tossing his circlet onto a table next to his chair. “I want to hear more about this voyage of yours.”
I gladly let the captain do the talking, though I do feel he embellishes a bit for entertainment purposes. Also, he omits a few key moments, such as our wedding, but he glances at me every time he slides over one.
“So, these island people were hospitable?” Harold leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs, enthralled.
Avery’s knee bumps mine. “Extremely. In fact, I can honestly say it was the best twenty-four hours of my life.”
A few more butterflies join their friends in my stomach.
Why does he have to go and say things like that once I’ve decided that I’m not going to fall in love with him? Does he have any idea how difficult he’s making that task?
The captain goes on, spending a disproportionate amount of time speaking about the sirens. Sebastian watches, not saying a word, but he glances at me every so often. Because we weren’t exactly chummy on the voyage back to Kalae, he’s never heard the full story.
I study his face, wondering if he’s horrified, hoping that he might be the tiniest bit impressed. He’s never thought I could take care of myself, and I realize I want him to see I can. Worse, I want him to be proud of me.
We come to the end of the tale, to the part where Avery heroically pushed me out of the duchess’s grasp and took a knife in the stomach for me. He doesn’t linger—doesn’t embellish or boast. In fact, he glosses over it like it was nothing. Which is probably for the best because Elizabetta looks like she’s going to cry again.
I know from speaking with Avery that the girl has suffered a great deal of heartbreak even at her young age. Their mother died suddenly when Elizabetta was only ten. Their father distanced himself and left her care to Lady Claire, his children’s maternal grandmother. The thought of losing her brother too must shake Elizabetta greatly.
When Avery is finished, Harold sits back, shaking his head as he grins. “You have all the fun, Captain. And here I am, stuck in my castle, surrounded by my cold riches.”
“Yes, it’s difficult being king,” Avery says wryly.
“Speaking of an abundance of cold riches, I must take you around the shoppes,” Minerva says, changing the subject. As she says it, she looks at Adeline, Lady Claire, and Elizabetta. Almost as an afterthought, she turns to me. “You may come as well, Lucia.”
How kind of her.
I give her a tight smile, and Sebastian widens his eyes marginally, reminding me to play nice. For a moment, it almost feels as if things are back to normal. I stare at him, silently asking what’s going on between us.
In answer, he smoothly infiltrates the conversation, saying, “Speaking of shoppes, I assume you’d like to visit them this afternoon, Lucia? Adeline said you have items the alchemists might be interested in. I will go with you if you’d like. I know the shoppe on the corner of Convill and Midtown specializes in unique ingredients. I’m sure they’ll be interested.”
Avery stiffens by my side; Adeline gapes. The rest of the group appear confused by our strange reaction.
I stare at Sebastian, dumbfounded. I shake my head, trying to clear it, and quickly nod before he thinks I’m saying no. “Yes, of course.”
He glances at his pocket watch. “I have family business to attend to shortly. Let’s say three o’clock?”
“Yes…that’s fine.”
“Lucia and Sebastian are business partners,” Adeline explains to the group. “Scouts.”
“And apparently you are very good ones since you were able to bring back a sea fire ruby,” King Harold says, smiling indulgently. “Of course, it never hurts to have the captain at your disposal.”
Avery glances at me, wearing that not-quite smile. “Lucia’s welcome to have me at her disposal any time she wishes.”
I expect Sebastian to scoff, but it’s the queen who makes the low sound in her throat. When we turn to her, she schools her look of disgust and exchanges it for a patronizing one, which she bestows right on me. “How…sweet.”
Harold gives his wife a stern look, and an uncomfortable silence blankets the room. The king clears his throat, breaking the spell, and turns to Sebastian. “We’ve had a bit of a crime problem as of late. We believe the streets are generally safe in the light of day, but it’s best to stay away from the shoppes in the evening. We’ve encouraged the shopkeepers to close early and head home before dark.”
“And what of the goblins?” Elizabetta asks, her face etched with concern. “Are those rumors true as well?”
The king rolls his eyes, disgusted not with the girl but the situation. “Yes, I’m afraid so. We’ve had several sightings in the forest to the north of the city. As far as we know, none have ventured into Teirn, and our guards are working hard to ensure that they don’t. But there are whispers that the beasts are behind the thievery. The crude way in which the doors and windows are broken, and the careless, almost deliberate mess the thieves have been leaving, would hint that it might be the work of goblins. Still, we don’t want to jump to any conclusions in the matter.”
Adeline goes pale, and Minerva, not liking the somber mood, smiles brightly. “Enough of this morbid conversation. I have good news.”
The women turn to her, relieved, but I would rather speak of the goblins.
“Madam Lavinia is in Teirn, and she’s planned a performance! You all must join me as my personal guests.”
Lady Claire and Adeline both look quite impressed, but I have no idea who the woman is.
Minerva turns to me, her face the picture of innocence. “I will take no offense if you do not wish to join us, Lucia. I know how you adventuresses are—all work and no play. I imagine it would be difficult to sit through a performance, while the entire time, you’re dreaming of scampering off on your next adventure.”
“I think I can manage.”
“Wonderful,” she says with a bright smile and hard eyes. “We will be glad to have the pleasure of your company, I’m sure.”
After that, she turns to Adeline and Lady Claire and promptly forgets my existence. I resist the urge to look at the imposing grandfather clock in the corner and wonder how long I must stay before I can escape this royal dungeon.
CHAPTER SIX
But a Very Handsome Thorn
A knock sounds on the door of my room—my gloriously large, cannot-believe-I’m-going-to-be-sleeping-here, decked-in-all-things-feminine room. Unused to anyone hovering over me, I sent the maid away, and I’m just hanging the last of my gowns in the wardrobe by the settee.
“Come in,” I call.
I have the glass doors to my own private balcony tossed open, and the gossamer curtains flutter in the warm breeze. Everything about the room is light and airy—the furniture is delicate, the fabrics are various shades of creams and whites, and the gleaming hardwood floors are covered with plush rugs.
I’m in a wing across the courtyard—in the castle but separate—and when I stand on the balcony, I can look out at the great towers and watch the flags flutter in the breeze. I stood there for a good fifteen minutes when I first arrived, marveling at the view.
The
door opens. Expecting Adeline since Their Royal Majesties placed her next door and she’s already come and gone a dozen times, I don’t bother to turn.
“You don’t have to keep knocking. Just come in next time.”
“I’ll take that as an open invitation,” Avery says.
I whirl around, startled, and laugh when I see him lounging in the doorway. He looks so much better than he did when we left Mesilca.
“I thought you were Adeline,” I explain.
He smiles and cocks a brow. “I get that a lot.”
“Did you rest?”
Avery lets out a sigh that might be a grumble. “I read for a bit, but I find it difficult to sleep during the day.”
That must be a good sign. Not a month ago, he could barely stay awake due to all the pain-relieving tea Gregory was pouring down his throat. Of course, anyone would want to be half-conscious for the medicines the mage plied the captain with twice a day. If they tasted half as bad as they smelled, they had to have been ghastly.
“So…” He strides into the room, hands clasped behind his back, looking at nothing in particular. “You and Sebastian are going on an outing.”
“Avery,” I warn.
He looks back at me, raising his hands in mock innocence. “Small talk, Lucia. That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”
I narrow my eyes, trying not to smile. “You may come with us.”
“Hmmm.” He frowns, thinking. “An afternoon in a musty alchemy supply shoppe with my baby cousin? Hard as the decision might be, I think I must pass that up.”
“The two of you need to find a way to get along.”
He turns toward me, only his eyes smiling. “And why is that?”
“Because he is my business partner, at least until he decides otherwise, and you are…” Oh dear. Where was I going with that?
Avery grins and strides toward me. “Yes, go on. What am I?”
“A thorn in my side.”
“The man you dream about at night? Giver of the best kiss you’ve ever received? Love of your life?” He grins as he steps closer. “Feel free to pick any one you wish.”
Wildwood Larkwing (Silver and Orchids Book 3) Page 4
