by Kyra Gregory
In doing so, slipping away uneasily, her eyes fell on Gyles. He smiled at her, bowing his head, and her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as she left.
“She has taken a liking to you,” Deros said, smirking. “She considers you a Prince who returned her father to her.”
Gyles hung his head, tilting it meagrely to one side, “Would that I could do the same for her mother,” he said.
Deros waved his hand in dismissal, clapping it onto Gyle’s arm, “Think nothing of it,” he said. “She made her choice.”
“As do we all,” Sybelle agreed, nodding.
Deros looked to Gyles, “I hear you’re to leave again,” he remarked.
“I am,” he replied, forming a grin so as not to repeat the same sombre discussion. “I’m looking forward to the new challenge.”
Deros looked uneasy but he couldn’t help the smile growing on his face, the sight of which caused Sybelle to worry less about his fractured mind. “Perhaps,” he said, tentatively, “but do be certain to watch your back; Azurians are still Azurians, and pirates are still pirates,” he said.
“In such a case,” Gyles started, “must I have the same opinion of you?”
Sybelle’s smile slowly fell from her lips, watching the gazes between the two intensify. Then the two men broke into greater grins, extending their hands to each other simultaneously and grabbing them with firm holds.
“I mean it,” Deros said, strengthening his grip, “take care of yourself and return safely.”
“And you,” Gyles countered, smirking, “I would have you make it so that I don’t need to return prematurely.” Sybelle’s brows furrowed together in confusion as she watched their exchange but Deros looked to have understood what he meant, nodding curtly in reply.
Before she could so much as open her mouth and ask them what he’d meant, the connection between the two had been lost as they let go of each other. “I’ll be inside,” Gyles said, kissing Sybelle’s temple, a hand on the small of her back. He skipped up the steps and the heavy doors of the palace were opened for him, allowing him to make his preparations to leave.
Deros looked on after him, staring for the longest time until Gyles disappeared from sight down the long corridors. He turned back to her, shaking his head in utter bewilderment. “I’ll never understand why he runs so far when he loves you as much as he does.”
Sybelle’s mind faltered over Deros’s use of the word ‘love’. She smiled, hanging her head, “He runs because I’m not the only one he has ever loved,” she said.
“You must tell me about him one day,” Deros said, clasping her hand, “about this man he loved so much.”
“Loves,” Sybelle corrected, gaining Deros’s confusion. “He still loves him,” she said, “and that is what makes their love such a beautiful thing.”
“A love greater than life and death,” Deros said. “I never thought such a thing really existed,” he remarked in a whisper.
Sybelle turned to him entirely, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as the unease continued to grow within her chest. She played with her fingers, unable to take her eyes off her hands. “I must tell you something,” she said.
Deros’s eyes grew, his eyebrows raised as he leaned in, “Is something the matter?” She cocked her head to one side, minutely debating with herself as to the correct answer to that question. Deros seemed to debate also, extending his hands to a few inches above both her shoulders before dropping them back down at his sides. “What’s the matter?”
Sybelle looked around, her eyes falling on Neyva as she spun around, playing with the doll Sybelle had gifted her with upon their return, having hoped to use it to distract her from the state her father was in.
“Perhaps we should sit down,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. She went to walk inside but refrained, turning back to him and rooting herself into the ground, facing him as she felt his intense stare upon her. She swallowed, forcing herself to meet his gaze, “I’m carrying your child,” she said.
Deros’s eyes widened for just a second before they looked her up and down, his mouth falling open in surprise and an awareness that he needed to say something to her in reply.
“Well?” Sybelle prompted, beginning to tremble. “Won’t you say something?”
Deros blinked away his confusion. “How long have you known?”
Sybelle’s shoulders fell. It wasn’t quite the reaction she was expecting. Though, admittedly, she’d found his reaction a difficult one to discern. She licked her lips, doing her best to reply in spite of her disappointment, “A couple of weeks now,” she replied. “I needed to be certain before I thought to say anything.”
He shifted, still uneasy. “And…how do you feel about this?” he asked, taking his eyes off her belly long enough to look at her.
She wanted so badly to ask him that exact same question. Having it turned on her instead only flustered her, causing her to develop a lump in her throat that she couldn’t quite swallow. In seeing this, Deros reluctantly placed his hands on her shoulders and brought her to look at him with a light touch of his thumb against her cheek. He looked troubled, more for her than for himself. “I’m happy,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as though he were ashamed of the fact. “But,” he said, “if you want none of this, if you want none of me inside of you, then I’ll think nothing of your choice to have it so.”
She shook her head in disbelief, “I don’t mind this,” she said. “I must confess it’s not what I expected for myself,” she said, promptly, placing her hands on her stomach, “but, then, none of what I’ve been through in the last few months was what I expected either.”
Deros broke out into a wide smile, throwing his arms around her and drawing her into his chest. She leaned into him, listening to his heart beat at an overwhelming pace, feeling his fingers against her hair and his lips against her forehead. She withdrew, looking up at him through the haze in her vision as he dropped his hand, timidly, against her stomach. “You really are happy,” she remarked, staring at him with wide-eyed disbelief.
He seemed to marvel at her. His touch on her was gentle, his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing, cherishing motion. “Yes,” he said, laughing, “yes, I am,” he said. She laughed, openly and filled with relief. While she’d thought plenty about what she would do if she didn’t have his support, it was still a reality she would much rather not have had to face. She placed her hands on his shoulders as he kept his eyes on her stomach, coming to terms with the news she’d bestowed upon him.
He tore himself away, taking both of her hands and kissing the back of them with the enthusiasm of a young man in love. She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her, more charmed than she would like to admit by his open display of affection for her as he forgot entirely of the open space they stood in, their actions overlooked by her guards at the entrance of the palace and atop the Capital’s walls.
“You’re happier about this than I thought possible,” she confessed. She hadn’t known what to expect at all. Ever since their return, when his recovery had been at its slowest, he’d shrunk away from her touch and avoided all intimacy with her. Now, he seemed to instigate it. She leaned into his embrace, staring up at him with such captivation. “What has brought on such excitement?” She couldn’t help but ask, couldn’t help but be curious as to why such news had enthralled him so.
“It’s nothing,” he whispered dismissively, shaking his head.
“Tell me,” she whispered in return against his lips.
He smirked, hanging his head, almost as though he were ashamed of himself. “My purpose is to protect you,” he said, keeping his voice low in the most intimate way, “and this,” he started, looking down at her, “this is just another something to protect.”
She revelled in the warmth of his embrace, her cheerful smile growing on her lips, “And that makes you happy? Does protecting me make you happy?”
“I’ve made it my purpose,” he whispered, drawing her
back into his chest, embracing her and skimming his hands over her back and shoulders to keep her warm, “and my purpose is what has put me on the right path for the first time in my life.”
“I don’t think there is such a thing as the right path,” Sybelle whispered, allowing her eyes to fall shut at the sensation of peace she felt within herself while in his embrace.
“There is,” he whispered. She looked up at him, watching as he spoke as though entranced, his eyes fixated on every part of her features, as though he was just viewing them up close for the very first time. “I think the right path is the one that leads us to exactly who it is we want to be,” he said. “And, for the first time, I think I know who that is.”
She raised her eyebrows and her smile turned into a grin, “And who is that?”
“A man that is healed of the past,” he said, his eyes looking into hers and making her feel vulnerable, “a man that can love in the present, as well as be loved in return, and a man that can keep loving until the day he dies, even beyond that if possible.”
Sybelle stood on the tips of her toes, allowing her lips to flutter over his before meeting them as the passion that had swirled inside her chest, ever-growing, seemed to overcome her. It felt right. She felt at peace. For the first time in a long time, she could breathe easier.
But this moment of freedom was unsettling. This moment, this goodness, this happiness, felt like it couldn’t be permanent. No, it was a fleeting moment to cherish. It was the calm before the storm.
The End
Ready for the next instalment in The Ascendant Series? Check out Atoned!
Check out The Vagabond Series if you’d like to read more about the pirates that have become Sybelle’s allies!
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BOOKS IN THIS UNIVERSE
The Ascendant Series
Ascendant
Accustomed
Atoned
Allied
The Vagabond Series
Grounded
Fugitive
Conspirator
The Heir Series
Adolescent
Adept
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CONTACT
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