Her aunt’s words hit her like a wrench to the noggin. Jade fell silent, her already torn heart shredding as the truth sank its claws in. It made sense now. Her father’s over-protectiveness. His comments about her finding a better place, a better station. He meant her role as a princess. He meant her—Jade’s thoughts screeched to a halt and she rocked back.
“That’s why you’ve both discouraged me from being too close to Zak. It’s not that I’m not enough for him, it’s that I’m a princess, and he’s not enough for me. Is that it?” She stared at her father, mentally begging him to deny it. “It was you. You scared him away, didn’t you?”
He winced, and when his eyes met hers, she could read the painful truth in them.
Jade huffed an incredulous laugh. “I can’t believe this. All this time, I thought I was the problem. That I wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t smart enough. Brave enough. But no. It’s because you think I’m a princess.” She gripped the excess fabric of her mechanic pants and tried to not sway as her mind spun. “Unreal. You’ve both lost a cog.”
“Jade. We’re telling you the truth,” Garnet said quietly, her voice betraying her desperation despite her calm attitude. “We wouldn’t make this up.”
Jade hunched forward, burying her face in her hands, blocking them from her sight. What more could we add to make this day any worse than it is? She stiffened. “If this is true, then what else have you lied to me about?” Jade stood and teetered as the room spun. She gripped the table. “All these years, you’ve been my father. My mother, Samantha. And now you rip that away? Did you expect me to be happy to hear that I’m supposedly a princess?”
“Maybe not happy,” Slate replied, his shoulders hunched as he hung his head. “But it’s the truth. And you’ll need to take the throne back someda—”
“No!” Jade shouted. Her chest ached, and she pressed her palm over her hammering heart. “I’m not a princess. I’m not having anything to do with royalty. I’ve seen royalty. I’ve seen what it does.” She pointed out the door, her hand shaking as tears streamed down her face. “My best friend got whipped because a stupid prince”—she hissed the title—“saw a body he wanted and didn’t like being told ‘no.’ I’m not entering that world. Ever. I’m an airship mechanic! Someday I’ll be an airship captain! That’s all I am, and that’s all I ever want to be.”
“Jade, please, sit—” Garnet started, but Jade shook her head.
“No. I’m done. Goodnight.” Jade yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind her. She trembled where she stood for a long minute, before fleeing to the one safe place she could still call hers—the engine room.
Chapter Forty
Slate
Slate stared at the closed door, dazed. “What have we done?”
Garnet curled in on herself, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy as she shook her head. “We did what we had to. We told her the truth.”
Slate needed to move, to pace, but his feet didn’t step. All his energy had been sapped away, leaving a shell of himself behind. He collapsed in the chair that Jade had been in moments before. “Yes. We told her. But at what cost?”
“We waited too long. And now it’s so much harder.” Garnet blew her nose and took a shaky breath. “But there’s no way we would’ve been able to keep the secret after this.”
“I should’ve told her sooner. I should’ve told her from day one.” Slate ran his fingers through his hair, catching on knots and pulling, but he welcomed the pain. It was easier to bear than the agony in his heart. “I did this,” he whispered. “I was too scared to tell her the truth before, and now I’ve just ruined everything.”
“I doubt you’ve ruined everything,” Garnet tried to soothe. “Your timing was off by several months, at least, but we’ll work through this. We always do.”
Slate scrubbed his face with his palms, trying to erase the images burned into his mind. Jade’s shock. Jaxton’s blood. “Whoever killed him was looking for something.” He dropped his hands and braced against his knees as he stood. Two long strides brought him to his nightstand, and he pulled out a bottle of mead and two glasses. He plunked them on the table and filled both. “Geist said most of the room had been rummaged through. And Victor will need to replace almost everything in his quarters.”
Garnet eyed her glass for a long moment before lifting it to her lips. “Did whoever do this find what he was looking for? Or will he be back?”
Slate felt like his emotions were processing through slushy ice, everything slow and dull. He couldn’t panic right now, couldn’t process everything sufficiently to think that far ahead. The scent of blood clung to everything, and even now it permeated his sinuses. The message left behind had been written in Jaxton’s blood, and what it said had shaken Slate to the core: I KNOW.
Know what? Slate’s involvement? Jade’s identity? Fear iced Slate’s spine and he shook his head, numb.
“Jade knows who she is now, so there’s that. And now we can do all we can to protect her,” he said finally. “We can only hope that changing locations and having a guard or something will be enough.”
Garnet’s eyebrows drew together. “It’s going to have to be.”
Chapter Forty-One
Jade
Jade finally uncurled from her warm corner on the floor next to the boiler and wiped her eyes.
Princess. Losing Jaxton has snapped them. They’ve both lost a gear if they think I’m going to believe such a crazy story. She heaved a shaky sigh. It did make sense, though. Her father’s insistence on her going to noble balls when an invite was extended to them. Garnet drilling her on manners and etiquette. Zak’s changed attitude toward her after last summer when her father warned him off.
The sudden clarity didn’t help.
How much of her life would be different if she had been the true daughter of Slate and Samantha Stohner? Would she have had to fight to learn to be a mechanic? Would she have been dragged to and fro across Terrene, learning cultures and how to properly interact with them? Would she have been free to pursue her dream of being an airship captain?
Would Zak find her desirable? Attainable?
I don’t want to be a princess.
The trappings of royalty stifled all freedom and creativity. She wanted to be responsible for a crew, not a whole nation! If she were to take on the crown of Doldra, she’d never again be able to stay up all night with Krista, laughing and crying and swearing in the engine room over a failing condenser coil. She wouldn’t be able to walk through the fields of Perennia with Briar while he waxed eloquent on his love for herbs and how they made everything so good. She wouldn’t be able to walk freely through Lasim, devouring local fare and gawking at the newest potions with Zak.
Instead, she’d be in a gilded cage, never to see the horizon again.
Fresh tears threatened to spill, and Jade scrubbed at them before they could fall. Maybe fresh air would ease the bitter ache that squeezed her heart. She slipped out of the engine room and rushed up the stairs to the main deck, hoping to not run into anyone. At least it would be easy to explain her red eyes and swollen nose. It would be expected after just losing Jaxton.
She shook her head and gripped the wind-chilled safety bar. What had her father—no, uncle—been thinking? Dropping a bomb like that on the same day as a savage murder? Bad enough to lose Jaxton. Worse, to find him. Adding in this news of who she was…
Stars glimmered overhead, and Jade breathed in the cooler air. What would she do now? Did Slate expect her to change what she did? Would she be forced to go into hiding, in case his fears were correct? Would she still be allowed to be a mechanic? Would she have to start something ridiculous, like princess training?
She snorted. No way.
“Jade?”
Jade whirled at the sound of Zak’s voice, and he emerged from the hallway by the captain’s quarters, blocking the doorway to the med-bay. Even in the dim light, she could see him cock a black eyebrow.
“Are you feeling all right? I’m surprised to
see you up and about.” Zak strode closer and stopped an arm’s length away, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Ben is still unconscious. We’re going to try to find Finn in Lucrum to get more experienced help for him.” He studied Jade, his gaze lingering on her puffy eyes. “Can’t sleep?”
“Did you know?”
Zak furrowed his brow and tilted his head. “Know what?”
“Who I am? That my real name is Adeline?”
Zak froze. He opened his mouth, closed it, then spoke slowly. “I take it they told you, finally?” He shook his head and muttered, “And tonight, of all nights.”
She nodded, and he sank against the wall.
He covered his eyes with his hand and dragged it down his face with a heavy sigh. He slitted his eyes open to look at her. “I see.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jade couldn’t help the fresh tears that flooded her vision as she stared up at Zak. “How long have you known?”
He didn’t meet her eyes. “I’ve known you since you were born.” Zak’s words were pained. His gaze flicked away from her, and his brows knit together. “I was with Garnet when we had to flee the palace.” His hands fisted. “I knew when they changed your name, when they created the cover story. I promised to keep that secret safe.”
She gaped. He was there? With me? When the royal family fell in Doldra?
“And you didn’t think to mention to me, ‘Hey, Jade, you’re not who you think you are’? Or, ‘Hey, Jade, you don’t need to lay flowers at your own grave’?” Hurt leaked out with every word, and she clutched his arm until his gaze met hers. “Aren’t we friends?”
“Of course we’re friends.” His voice was low, strained, and his broad shoulders hunched over. “I couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t my place.”
“Your place?” Jade scoffed, her body tense, itching to fight. Too much emotion, too much hurt, too many lies. “Is it my place? Is this,” she gestured to herself, unable to think of what word could describe her newfound status, “why you can barely look at me these days? Because you have this opinion on who I’m supposed to be?” She whirled away, fighting the tears that sprung to her eyes. She turned and marched back, poking Zak’s chest with her index finger. “Your place is as my friend. My friend who doesn’t lie to me my entire life!”
Zak’s eyes narrowed and he straightened, looming over her. “You are my princess, first and foremost. My place is behind you, to watch your back and protect you. I’m your Guardian.”
“I thought you were supposed to be a Guardian of the Barrier.” Like your brother.
He shook his head. A muscle worked in his jaw, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m your Guardian.”
Tears slipped down Jade’s cheeks and she fisted her hands. “I don’t want you to guard me. I want you, as my friend, beside me.” She looked down and watched the wood blur. “I want to know I can trust you with…everything. With me.”
“Jade.” Zak’s calloused hand lifted her chin toward him.
She scrubbed at her eyes while trying to even out her breathing. Her lungs ached.
“You can always trust me,” he whispered. Regret and sorrow and countless other emotions she couldn’t name swam in his eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything before. Truly.”
“Is this what you meant last summer? When you said I was so much more?” Jade tried to hold back her sniffle and failed. A fresh thought occurred to her, and she rocked back on her heels. “Is that why you defended me from Weston? Because I’m a princess?”
Zak’s lips had turned up at the edges during her first question, but his shoulders drooped at the accusation in her tone. He pulled an inky blue handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her hand, then stepped back with a sigh as she wiped at her eyes and blew her nose. He watched her askance, and enough light spilled from the med-bay that she could see his cheeks color.
“Partially.” Zak closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, leaving long dark strands askew as he crossed his arms. “I stopped him because you’re my princess. I also stopped him because you’re my friend. But it’s not my place, so—”
“What’s not your place?” Jade interrupted. “Don’t give me any of that steam about what’s anyone’s place or not. I’ve been hearing too much of that excuse.” She scuffed her boot against the floor and settled her hands on her hips. She was desperate for answers, desperate to hear him explain, desperate to understand what he was thinking behind those curtained eyes. “Please, if you haven’t ever done it before, just this once, look at me and treat me as the person I am. Not the title I was born as. Not some princess of a country that I’ve never called home. Me. Jade. The mechanic. Your friend.” Her shoulders sagged, and she dipped her head down, squeezing her eyes shut. This day had dragged on long enough, draining her of all emotional energy. “Please.”
Warm arms wrapped around Jade, and her eyes flew open. She returned the hug and rested her cheek against his strong shoulder.
“Forgive me.” Zak’s words were low, husky. “But you asked. And I can’t refuse.”
“Refuse what?” Jade clung to him, unwilling to risk him stepping away. “What I said? That I want you to treat me as me? Whales, Zak, it wasn’t an order. It was a request.” She leaned back to look up at him, fisted his shirt in her hand, and let the fingers of her other hand skim up his arm.
His eyes softened, and his lips quirked in a half grin that hinted at the mixed emotions hiding within him.
Her tears threatened to overflow for the umpteenth time that evening. Why, oh why, did her heart ache at the simple sweetness of the smile that he aimed at her? It filled her soul to the point of overflowing, and she wasn’t strong enough to contain it all.
He tilted his head down, brushing his forehead against hers, his touch soft, hesitant. Then he pressed his lips against hers.
Jade’s world flipped upside down. Chemical reactions in the boiler room had nothing on this. Molten energy flowed through her body, leaving her tingling from head to toe, and she gasped against his lips. Then she clutched the back of his head, and pulled him closer.
Zak’s hand slid under her loose braids as he crushed her body against his and deepened the kiss. His arm wrapped around her, preventing her from sliding to the floor while her muscles liquefied under the heat of his passion.
Jade’s heart hammered, threatening to break out of her ribcage, as they broke apart for air. She tilted her head back to regard him. His eyes blazed even as he offered her a heartbreakingly bittersweet smile.
Zak released her from his hold and gently ran his hand from her neck down to her fingers. She shivered under his touch. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, still holding her gaze. “You deserve so much more than me.” Zak shook his head with a glance at the captain’s quarters and med-bay. “And you deserve better timing for all this.” He bowed low and stepped back, regret etched around his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Ben
Ben hugged Sara as they watched the double-wide casket sink into the earth. She turned away, burying her face in his chest, her tears dampening his suit jacket. Tears burned behind his eyes, and he swiped at them with his free hand. The terrorists would pay. Too many funerals were happening this week. Too many families, too many kids, too many parents mourning their loved ones.
No one should fear going to a café for breakfast.
One of the gravediggers approached them. “Do you want to be the first?” He gestured awkwardly with a shovel at the mound of dirt.
Ben shook his head, and the man bowed his head and turned to his partner by the edge of the burial. No, Ben knew what would happen once he let go of his sister. They were both underage and would be separated into different homes.
Sara rubbed her face against his jacket and stepped back, her hands clinging to his. Her smile had dimmed, but the fire in her eyes remained. She squeezed his fingers. “It’s only for a few years. We’ll find each other. That’s what family does.�
�
* * *
Ben groaned and shook his head. He reclined on Elinora’s couch in her sitting room. A clock ticked on the far wall, and floral and wood scents soothed little of his growing headache. Even though it’d been a week since he’d worn Jaxton’s circlet, Ben’s head hurt. He blinked his eyes open and wasn’t surprised to find Finn sitting in a chair next to him, hand supporting his bearded chin as he watched Ben.
Finn didn’t say anything as he leaned back and crossed his arms. Ben struggled to find his words as he processed what he’d seen in his mind. What he remembered. He stared at the white molded ceiling.
“She…she’s my sister.”
Finn shifted. “Sara?”
“Yes.” Ben shifted his gaze to a wood table with a flickering gas lamp. “She’s younger than me. Our parents died.” His head throbbed as he wrestled with memories that returned in their own time—never in the order that he needed. “From a bomb.”
“Good progress, Ben.” Finn laid his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “It can be difficult suddenly recalling your past, but you’re doing well.”
“Thanks.” Ben clenched his fists and released them slowly. “Have you dealt with memory-loss patients before?”
Finn started plunking lids on metal tins of ointments. “They aren’t too rare. How are you handling the change of location?”
Ben closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He’d agreed with Captain Stohner’s reasoning for leaving him in Lucrum for recuperation, but he still felt a pang of loss, even as his memories filled in his past. He missed his bunk on the airship. His friends. It was quiet here at Ellie’s. No hissing from the engine room, no rumble of the turbines, no swaying from the wind.
It had scared the entire crew when Ben slept for two solid days after Jaxton’s murder. Even Geist, for all his cutting words and snark, seemed concerned. And it didn’t make Ben feel any better when his brain started releasing memory after memory, rendering him useless under the onslaught. So when the Sapphire landed in Lucrum, the captain had found Raine’s grandfather and asked him to help care for Ben, now that the Sapphire had no doctor and the crew had to finish another shipping run.
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