by Hazel Grace
“He is wonderful!” Eve beamed later that night in my room, after dinner with Papa and George. “Are you sure you don’t want to be queen?”
She adored him, laughing at his feeble jokes and asking him questions about the palace, while I rolled my eyes dozens of times.
“Do I need to find a new best friend?” I remarked, flopping on my bed and kicking my shoes off, and she joined me.
“Think of the things you could accomplish,” Eve babbled. “You could build more orphanages. You’ve always spoke of developing stew kitchens for the poor.” I sprawled out and looked up at the ceiling. I felt a headache coming on. Eve lay next to me, propping her head up with her elbow. “Wouldn’t be so bad to spend some time with him. You can attend the balls and lavish events. It would be fabulous!”
I groaned. “I’ve been to palace balls.”
“When you were a child,” Eve noted.
“Doesn’t make a difference.”
“Think of all the men there. Oh Ava! There must be dozens of eligible bachelors!”
“You are so annoying!” I reached for a pillow and hit her with it, and we both laughed.
She wiggled her eyebrows. “He isn’t bad to look at either.”
“All right, all right, Eve,” I begged, thumping her with the pillow one last time. “He is my best friend; I grew up with him. You’re being revolting at this point.”
“But you could be a queen!” Eve marveled.
“There are a lot of things that come with being a queen,” I advised, ignoring her last comment. “Of course, you have the power and means to do things, but you are confined. I can’t go on a stroll through town without an actual army shadowing my every move.”
“But you’d be good for the people, Ava,” Eve continued. “The people need someone who cares about them.”
“I know,” I replied in a low voice. Edward wasn’t a bad king, but he was too traditional. He didn’t try to understand the way of life for the lower class. How they struggled to live, banded together to make sure their small towns didn’t starve to death. Instead, he stayed in his fancy castle and worked on his personal agenda, making Telliva an imperium among our neighboring countries.
“Having George as your king wouldn’t be bad either,” Eve said. “You’d be a royal couple to be reckoned with.”
“There will be no couple when it comes to George and I,” I countered. “Stop putting us together in the same sentence that way.”
“Oh, stop getting defensive. I was just thinking about what you’ve been discussing with me, on assisting the people.”
I did want to aid the people, but on my terms, without having to go through rich Lords, who had no idea what was happening. My dream was to travel, experience new cultures, make my own decisions. Being queen would benefit with power, but I didn’t need to be a monarch to help the people.
“I have a plan that will benefit the people,” I told Eve. “Expanding the business will bring in more funds that I can transfer to new schools, construction of the stew kitchens, and new orphanages. A queen comes with a target on her back.”
Eve was silent for a moment and pushed a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “Whether you want to believe it or not, Ava, you have one on your back right now.”
∞∞∞
The next morning, I dressed quickly and braided my hair before walking down the long hallway toward the stairs. Eve’s words had echoed in my head all night. You have one on your back right now. Edward deserved a smack upside the head for putting it there. In my next life, I’d stay away from any king or prince and make non-royal, regular friends without any ties to madness surrounding them.
My stomach grumbled, knowing Mrs. Reynolds would have a light breakfast waiting for me. I hadn’t eaten much last night with my frazzled nerves. I greeted Mr. Brooks, who murmured his ‘Good morning,’ and walked into the dining room. Pushing through the door, I saw a man sitting at the table, reading the newspaper.
George.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” I said in an exasperated tone. “Are you moving in?”
“If I’m greeted like this every morning, moving in sounds most inviting,” the voice behind the paper replied. I shook my head and walked over to the table adorned with fruits, eggs, and bread.
“How long are you planning on staying?” I asked, filling my plate.
“As long as you’ll have me.”
“Morning, dear,” another voice drifted in behind me. I turned to find George walking in wearing a smile. My stomach sank, and I looked back to the person holding the newspaper.
The paper dropped to reveal a familiar set of blue eyes; ones I hadn’t seen in years.
Garrett Cranfield.
My breathing hitched. Garrett folded his newspaper and watched me, a smile softening the sharp outline of his square jaw. It was more defined than it had been; the dusting of stubble was also new. Swallowing, my eyes dropped to his broad shoulders and wide chest before I quickly corrected myself. As Mrs. Reynolds would say, ‘A lady doesn't stare.’ Still, I was certain he'd not looked quite so...large when last I'd seen him.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he greeted.
I paused for a moment, my mouth not able to form words. “H—Hello,” I stuttered.
George came to my side. Looking at my overflowing plate, his brow raised. “Are you hungry?”
“Shut up, George,” I grumbled. At the table, I sat across from Garrett, feeling his eyes on me, and my face went up in flames.
“It is good to see you again, Avie,” he said, keeping a smile plastered on his rugged face.
Avie.
I hadn’t heard that nickname since we were together at the safehouse. That time seemed so far away, but I remembered it all in excruciating detail. The way he beamed when he won a hand at cards, how he laid out my meals with a flower, and made sure I had some time to myself when I wanted to take a bath. He had sent back some of his men to grab my clothing from the orphanage, and his attention to every detail, to make me as comfortable as I could be.
“You as well, Lord Cranfield,” I replied with a smile, grabbing the raspberry jam off the table.
A line formed between his brows. “Please, call me Garrett. You used to,” he urged smoothly.
“Did you send a rider back to Father?” George asked Garrett while taking a seat next to me.
Garrett raised a brow. “I sent John. I don’t trust anyone else.”
“I’m surprised he still works for you,” George mused. “After you sent him riding into dangerous territory to—”
“—save your ass,” Garrett cut in. He eyed his brother for a moment before bringing his gaze back to me. “How have you been?” He rested his head on his fist, fully focused on me.
I swallowed, trying to focus on what to say. Instead, all I could seem to do was stare at his perfect face. “I—I’ve been fine. Enjoying my life back at home.”
“I’m sure. More spacious as well. That hut and the orphanage weren’t big enough for a lady of your stature.”
“Her stature?” George repeated.
“Absolutely. Avie isn’t a woman you coop up.”
George dropped his fork against the glass plate with a clatter. “You aren’t helping my case here at all to bring her home, brother. Why are you here again?”
Garrett narrowed his eyes. “I already told you. Father threw a royal fit after you left. I received your letter on where you were headed”—he spread his arms, showing his presence—“and here I am.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” George mumbled, picking up a grape and popping it in his mouth.
“Apparently, you do. Most toddlers don't just leave on a whim and scare everyone half to death...multiple times,” Garrett said, raking a hand through his hair.
“How have you been, Lord Cran—”
“Garrett.”
“Garrett,” I repeated.
Garrett cast a dark glance at George. “Protecting the realm, and this idiot from being killed.”<
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Before George could open his mouth, because I knew he would, I continued, “I’ve been managing my father’s inventory for his business and conducting trade deals. I also visit the orphanage in town whenever I have a chance. I brought all of the children home with me.”
“Did you?” Garrett inquired, raising a brow. “What did you say there were? Twelve altogether?”
I grinned. That little detail would be so insignificant to someone of his importance, but the fact that he remembered made me a little giddy.
“You brought twelve children here?” George asked incredulously, pointing down. “To this house?”
“That sounds like you,” Garrett put in. “How do you like being in trade?”
“I enjoy it very much,” I beamed. “I’ve saved us hundreds of pounds and continue to expand our territory. I’m actually considering a few deals in Hegnen.”
“Hegnen?” Garrett repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Impressive. The men in Hegnen are very cautious. They don’t make rash decisions when it involves new...well, anything. They are very independent on their own.”
I placed my fork down. “Exactly. That’s why I’ve sent over samples of spices and fruits—things they’ve never seen before—in hopes they’ll sign the deal.” One of our servants walked into the parlor, placing more steaming hot coffee on the table.
“Cora, what time is it?” I asked.
“A quarter before ten, my Lady,” she muttered. Thanking her, I popped a grape in my mouth.
“I must be off,” I announced, standing.
“Where are you going?” George inquired through a mouthful of eggs.
“Going to the shipping yard to check on Mr. Torres.”
“By yourself?” George barked.
I turned and frowned. “Yes, by myself. This is Bampshire, a small ocean town. Not Lvon, the capital of whores and gambling halls.”
Garrett chuckled behind his hand while George stood. “A shipping town still has burly men with bad intentions, and pirates.”
“And if they act on those bad intentions, I have a surprise waiting for them.”
“What kind—”
“May I come along? I would like to see this small empire you and your father are building.” Garrett interrupted.
“Absolutely. I would love to show you around.”
“I’m coming as well,” George said.
I rolled my eyes. “Like you’d stay here by yourself.”
Both men followed me out of the small dining room and toward the side of the house. We made our way to the stables, where I saddled my black mare, Onyx. Our ride wasn’t a long one, but through every minute of it, I knew exactly where Garrett’s horse was. A morning chill caused goose bumps to run along my body, and I shivered. I blamed it on the small wind, and not how strapping Garrett looked.
When we entered town, it was already bustling with carriages and people. Fruit markets lined the walkway, and children were running all around, dodging legs as they go. I waved to a few townsfolk I knew, and we continued the short distance to the shipping yard.
The smell of the salty ocean filled my nostrils; it was one of my favorites. The scent of endless possibilities on the open seas. Birds gawked and flew in circles over the unloading ships. Burly men hustled up and down ships, carrying goods and supplies to the front of our inventory building. Mornings were always busy.
“Mornin’, Lady Barlow!” shouted Frankie. The boy creased his brows, looking at the two men at my side.
“Good morning, Frankie,” I greeted. “Where is Mr. Torres?”
Frankie pointed a bony finger at the large storage building. “Last I seen ‘im was in thuh storage buildin’. He was countin’ thuh goods from thuh Maiden.”
“Is that the ship from Corteneza?” I asked, watching the ship’s men unload sacks of goods.
“Yeah.”
“What are they unloading?”
“Grain, corn, beans, meats, some perfume,” he reported, counting with his fingers. “Some spices, lantern oil, funit—”
“Do they have sugar, Frankie?” I interrupted, trying to get to my point.
“Umm…yeah, sugar was one I saw on thuh list,” he replied.
I sighed, grumbling, “I’d asked them not to bring sugar until they’d signed my new agreement.” I said my thanks to Frankie and asked him to meet me in the storage unit in a few minutes. Dismounting Onyx, I tied the reins to a nearby pole that had a flag flying from it with “Barlow Barters,” as well as the company symbol.
“Excuse me, sir.” I walked up to the nearest man, carrying two sacks. The man grinned at me, showing two missing front teeth. “Where is your Captain?”
“Thur Captin’ is on thee deck. Need me to fetch ‘em?” he asked.
“No, I can manage, thank you.” I turned toward the dock, when a hand grabbed my arm.
“You aren’t going on that ship alone,” George asserted, his eyes widening like I’d lost my mind.
“I’m not alone. I have both of you,” I retorted, snatching my arm out of his grasp.
George rolled his eyes. “But you still would have gone if we weren’t here.”
I pretended to think about it. “More than likely, yes.” I looked up at Garrett, who was studying me. “Coming?”
He grinned in response and followed me up the ramp to the ship. Dodging several unloading men, the smell of brine filled my nose, as birds squawked in the air above. Aboard the ship, I scanned the deck for a man with a large hat, barking orders and, more than likely, standing around doing nothing—the captain. A deep voice hollered orders, and I turned toward it, smirking.
“Excuse me, Captain,” I shouted over the noise. “May I have a word?”
The Captain was an old buck with long gray hair and matching beard. His face was aged with wrinkles, with blue eyes matching the seas he sailed upon. When he spotted me, he wrinkled his nose, more than likely displeased to see a woman on his ship. “How ‘ken I help ye?”
“Are you unloading sugar?”
He nodded. “Yes, and grain, fruits, vegetables.”
“That all sounds wonderful, Captain. However, there has been a discord in my agreement with Mr. Ferguson. Until we can come upon an agreement, I can’t take the sugar.” I folded my hands in front of me.
The Captain puckered his lips. “And who are ye?”
“Lady Barlow. This is my shipyard.”
“Are you married to Mr. Barlow?” he asked, looking me over.
“He is my father.”
“How old are ye, girl?”
“Old enough,” I deadpan. “I’ve sent word to Mr. Ferguson, I’m just waiting to hear back. Until then, we are at a standstill.”
The captain shrugged. “I just brought what is given ter us. Mister Ferguson had his men load up thee cargo, and we sailed hur.”
“I'm terribly sorry for the mix-up, Captain, but the sugar must go back.”
The captain snickered and pointed at his men. “They’ve already unloaded half of it.”
I gave the Captain a small smile. “Are you a gambling man, Captain?”
“I be.”
“Wonderful!” I clapped my hands together. “Do you have a deck of cards I could trouble you for?”
He furrowed bushy brows. “What would ye need a deck of cards fer?”
“I’ll play you for the sugar,” I offered. The Captain’s face softened a tad, peering at me for a moment. “If I lose, I take the sugar. If I win, you reload it onto your ship.”
He studied me before shouting to a man to bring him what I had asked for, and received it promptly. The Captain studied the deck for a moment before handing it to me.
“Ladies’ choice,” he said. “Ye choose thur game.”
“Oppugn,” I replied, shuffling through the deck to make sure most the cards were there. “Best of three.” The Captain nodded and held out a hand toward an upside-down wine barrel. We walked over to it together, Garrett and George following behind me. Shuffling the deck a final time, I dealt us
each three facedown cards. “Your ship, you play first, Captain.”
The Captain rubbed his hands together and flipped the top card over—the King of Knights. A small smile crept to his lips. “Yer turn, Lady.”
Knowing that I had a limited chance to beat his hand, I flipped over my card—the Queen of Winter. I couldn’t help my own grin; luck was on my side today, and that’s exactly what this game was.
The Captain grunted and quickly flipped his next card—an eight. Growling, he folded his arms. I turned my next card over, a three, and the Captain chuckled.
“We’ll turn our last card over at thur same time,” he told me. I nodded, and he counted down from three. On one, I flipped my last card—an Ace of Emeralds. I looked up at him; no matter what his card (the Queen of Fools), I won the hand.
“Good game, Captain,” I said, looking up at his scowl.
“A good game is when ye win,” he argued.
“Then next time I suggest you pray to Femme Fatale for luck, sir.”
He let out a grumble. “Ye wouldn’t be the Lady Barlow who was engaged to thur Prince of Telliva now, would ye?”
My goodness, how far did our fake engagement go?
I opened my arms. “The very one.”
The captain crowed with laughter. “Yer a delightful creature, aren’t ye? Many have spoken of how handsome a child ye were but ye’ve grown up to be a bewitching woman. That prince must be a simpleton to let ye go, or did ye beat him at cards as well?”
I smiled. “Plenty of times.”
“Lady of luck then.” He looped his thumbs through his pants’ pockets. “Well, a deal is a deal; we’ll take thur sugar back.”
“I truly appreciate it, Captain,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“Ye welcome to come back later tonight. See if you can take some coins from my men, if you’d like, with yer luck.”
“She has a prior engagement,” George interfered. The captain, for the first time, noticed the men at both of my sides.
“And who are ye?” the Captain asked in a clipped tone.
