by Rebecca Rode
I’d forgotten my coat, but I wasn’t about to go back for it despite the night’s chill. I curled up against the wall to guard myself from the wind. The wood was still slightly damp from the storm, and the cold seeped through my clothing. It fit my mood.
The still blackness of the night sky felt familiar. No matter what poor decisions we made, at least the ocean was always the same. Dependable. Storms came through now and again, but it always returned to this state eventually. This was home. But the sameness failed to calm me tonight.
Aden was a true royal, and I should never have assumed differently. He’d used me as surely as any servant, manipulated me into delivering ship and crew. Listened to my fears and then used them against me. I’d happily walked into it all. Fallen for him, even.
Not Aden. Cedrick. He’d even lied about his bloody name.
I sighed and tightened my arms around my knees. Aye, the sea was constant, but my thoughts were stormier than ever. The girl I kept locked away had crept from her hiding place and taken flight, dreaming like she’d never dreamed before about a boy she barely knew. For a brief, impossible moment, I’d allowed her to hope. Then a missive had torn that hope to ribbons.
Aden—Cedrick—was simply obeying his father, ever the dutiful son and errand boy. The very thought that we could leave his kingdom behind and sail off together was laughable.
The lines slapped against the wood. Someone was climbing. I knew without looking that it was Aden.
His arm appeared first, then his leg as he pulled himself over. The hard landing made him grimace. His eye and part of his cheek were a deep purple, evident even in this light. I could practically see Kemp’s knuckle marks.
“Hard to see the ropes in the dark,” he panted. “Er, lines. I keep forgetting.”
I turned away, irritated at my traitorous heart, which had begun to pound. Even the wet wood seemed to warm at his approach. The world might arrange itself to please him, but he didn’t control me.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “You disappeared after the duel. Are you all right?”
I kept my voice flat. “You fought well. Congratulations on your victory.”
He snorted. “What victory? Kempton is furious, and his men have been glaring at me all day. It’s a good thing we only have about a week left.” He paused. “Did something happen?”
“I’m glad,” I said, ignoring the question once more. “You even managed to defeat Kemp without revealing yourself. You must be very proud.”
“Lane.” Aden took my arm and pulled me around to look at him. His face was drawn in concern. “I’m not a complete fool. Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I yanked my arm free and turned away, setting my gaze rigidly on the night sky.
He went quiet. “You know why I’m here.”
I didn’t answer.
“You found the missive, then. Do you still have it?”
I nodded but didn’t offer to return it yet. Did Aden truly not see that he’d branded us forever? Trade ships remained strictly neutral, avoiding political entanglements to protect business and crew both. My father’s stand in the harbor had been bad enough. He’d be horrified to hear that we were now wanted in both Hughen and Messau—Hughen because he’d broken the law in leaving, and Messau because he was helping a Hughen prince fetch an army against the khral, however unknowingly.
A part of me wanted to wake my father, wave the king’s order in his face, and beg for mercy. He’d know what to do. But that would also involve admitting my part in it, and I couldn’t bear to see his expression when he discovered I’d plunged us headlong into a war.
I missed being able to talk freely with Father about things like this. Well, not precisely like this. I missed talking about insignificant matters with the crew and discoveries I’d made and jokes I felt were worthy of sharing. But this was no joke, and there were lives at stake. I’d been too self-absorbed to see that. Too withdrawn into myself, worrying about what people saw when they looked at me. Concerned about Kemp’s mysteries and Aden’s secrets, and whether this was my last voyage on the Majesty.
The lies had become such a part of myself, I couldn’t discern what was real and what wasn’t. What had I become?
Aden sagged against the box. “Look, my father ordered me not to show it to anyone, and… no, you deserve better than that. I risked your life and didn’t allow you to choose otherwise. It was wrong of me.”
The frustrating thing was, I still couldn’t tell the crew. If they discovered Aden was a prince on a secret mission to save a doomed kingdom, Kemp’s mutiny would spring without question. Most of the men resented nobility as much as I did, let alone royalty. Half would be livid at the captain’s deception and the other half would try to use Aden as some kind of prize. Maybe even ransom. He wouldn’t be safe and neither would my father. Nor I, for that matter. But that didn’t take away the pain.
“I know you’re angry, and I understand,” he said softly. “But I need that missive back.”
“First you’ll answer my questions.”
He gave me a long look. “That depends on the questions.”
“Tell me why he sent you instead of a messenger. And why a merchant ship when he has an entire navy fleet at his bidding?”
“That’s complicated.” The air left him in a long sigh. “My father’s high advisor, Lord Varnen, initiated a secret alliance with Khral Rasmus. Or perhaps it was the other way around. We aren’t sure. My father was too trusting from the start and allowed Varnen to oversee the king’s guard and his military generals. By the time my father discovered the plot to assassinate him at the Treaty Renewal Feast, the betrayal was too deep to determine where it began.”
I nodded, though it still didn’t quite make sense. Hughen had gained its independence from Messau shortly after Elena’s death. If Messau wanted to end the twenty-year treaty, why not simply refuse to renew it?
“They intended to murder him in public,” I said. “Seems unwise with so many witnesses.”
“Varnen drew up the guest list himself. The ‘witnesses’ would be plants, paid to lie about my father attacking Rasmus first. There was no time to root Varnen’s spies out of the military without signaling that the king knew their plan. So Father sent my mother and sisters to visit family and wrote this missive.”
“He didn’t trust any of his men, so he sent you. His own son.”
Aden’s—Cedrick’s—voice was slightly bitter. “The son he could spare, that is.”
Now I remembered. “Your mother is the king’s second wife,” I said. “Because Elena murdered the first when Mael was a child. Why did you tell me to call you Aden?”
“My father named me Cedrick after a distant grandfather. My mother has always called me Aden. I prefer it.”
The missive’s sharp folded edges dug into my waist. “What is your father doing in the meantime?”
“Pretending nothing is amiss. He knows he’ll be safe enough if Rasmus and Varnen intend to wait until the feast. As the second son, few will have noticed I’m gone.” There was that bitterness again. “My father’s life depends on what you choose to do with this information, Lane. If you can keep it a secret until we arrive, King LeZar just might have enough time to gather his forces and return before the celebration begins.”
I grimaced. King Eurion’s life was in my hands? It was the last thing Aden wanted to tell me right now, I was certain. And even if we arrived as scheduled, it would be difficult for the Ellegran king to send his navy in time. But I didn’t want to quell Aden’s hope, so I let it lie. “Your father didn’t send Varnen after us at the docks. The advisor sent himself.”
“Father and I feigned an argument before I left,” he said. “He planned to say that I ran away in anger. I suspect Varnen wasn’t convinced. And then that port incident… If you hadn’t agreed to help, this mission would have failed before it began.”
“How certain was your father of this threat?” I asked, feeling a mite dizzy.
“He didn�
��t make these decisions lightly. He wouldn’t have thrown away two decades of peace with Messau without evidence, not when peace came at such a high cost. He’s also a proud man who hates asking for help. If he sent me away, he must have seen no other recourse.”
His last words were strained. Now it was him who stared at the sky.
I moved to sit closer to him, knowing his pain too well. It was the sorrow of a child trying to accomplish the impossible to please a parent. “You worry for your family.”
“I warned my father that my mother and sisters weren’t hidden well enough. He said he would keep them on the move, but I doubt he’ll find anywhere secure in Hughen. Varnen’s spies are everywhere.” A brief pause. “Mael was left completely exposed as well. My father couldn’t increase the number of guards without Varnen getting suspicious.”
“Why not bring your family aboard with you?”
“My father’s own law. No Hughen merchant ship would agree to take women as passengers. Even if one had, sailors aren’t exactly…” He trailed off. “One never knows what the crew will be like.”
I couldn’t deny that. Our crew was more refined than most, but nobody could order away a sailor’s superstition. Father had a sound mind, and even he would have balked at the thought of bringing a queen and her children on board. The crew would have stomped off and refused to return at all.
“It was harder than I thought it would be,” he said softly. “The stories, the disguises, the lies. It wears on a man’s soul after a while. But I have to admit that the hardest part was lying to you.”
Warmth surged inside me at that. At least I hadn’t imagined the connection between us, however inappropriate it was.
“Listen,” he continued, leaning down until his voice was almost a whisper. I felt his breath on my lips. “It’s impressive how long you’ve managed to fool the men, but you aren’t any safer here than I am. Rasmus has agents in Ellegran, men who will kill me on sight.” He paused, looking at me with the same intensity I’d seen in him during the duel. “Lane, we need each other.”
I snorted. “You don’t need me.”
His expression was raw again, uncertain. “I know this will sound strange to you, but something else happened that first day we met.” He chuckled. I sat up straighter at the hesitance in his voice. “There I stood in my ridiculous muddy shirt, and you in your ill-fitting men’s clothes, and you stared back at me, and I just… felt something. Like you could help me win this.”
His words only deepened the numbness in my mind. A prince saw me as a sign. An abnormality that marked his path, nothing more. A talisman for a noble knight to retrieve and use along his journey.
Two facts remained. First, Aden had used me, lied to me, and taken advantage of my friendship for his own ends. I couldn’t trust him. Second, he served his father. That would forever place us on opposite sides. I would never risk myself to save a tyrant who wanted me dead, no matter how addictive his son’s smile was.
“You don’t even know who I am,” I said. “Do you want my axes, or me? Do you want a servant or a companion? A hunting hound, perhaps?”
He pulled back. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I don’t care what people see when they look at me. I’m not leaving this ship. Not for you, not for anyone. And I’m definitely not being forced off by a twisted Edict from a man who would send his son into danger to save his own head.” I turned back to the edge, looking out over the black sea.
“Lane.” Aden’s voice was rough now. He slid his hand down the inside of my arm, toward my hand. His finger brushed my palm, hesitantly. When I didn’t pull away, he enclosed my hand in his. “That came out wrong. I do need you—as you are, no deceptions or lies. I’m asking you not as a prince, but as a man. Would you consider leaving with me when we reach Ellegran?”
His hand was warm. New calluses had formed on his palms, but his nails were trimmed, and his skin was still soft as a royal’s. It was the exact opposite of my hands, which had seen storms and harsh winters abroad. I’d given myself slivers mending lines and sliced my fingers too many times to count. He was probably wincing inside at the roughness of my hand beneath his.
If signs existed, that was mine. It was as if the stars had shouted that we didn’t belong together, that we fit like a dove and a stone. Aden had been made to explore the world in a way I never could. I could be thrown and soar with him for a moment, but the ground would always claim me in the end.
I tore free, then retrieved the missive and shoved it into his hands. “I can’t help you save your father. I’m sorry.”
In daylight, I would have attempted the fifteen-foot leap and slid down to the deck. But it was too dark for that. I’d have to put distance between us the slow way. I swung my leg over the side and began to descend the ratlines.
“Can’t, or won’t?”
I paused. “A little of both.”
“Then if you hadn’t read that missive first, you would have come.”
“You have the watch.” I set my feet on the next set of rungs.
“At least tell me why.”
My insides were cracking down the middle, but I managed a casual shrug. “It’s simple, really. You’re a prince.”
“And you’re a sailor girl. I don’t see why that decides anything.”
My lips refused to form words. I just shook my head. He hadn’t been abandoned as a child by a mother of station, nor had he seen a father’s suffering over their shattered marriage. He couldn’t understand.
“You’ll never forgive me, then,” he spat. “No matter how I try to help, ultimately, it’s what I am that matters.”
“That’s right.”
He gave a sad smile. “I never thought I’d hear that from you.”
My heart threatened to wrench apart. I still felt that draw toward him, and the girl deep inside screamed at me to climb back up, to throw myself into his arms and tell him I’d changed my mind. But my legs had better sense, and I found myself descending once again.
It wasn’t till I reached the deck that I looked up. His dark form stood motionless overhead, watching me over the edge of the box. He hadn’t moved.
I hurried into my father’s cabin and closed the door softly behind me before sinking shakily to the hard deck floor.
I lay on my hammock the next morning, one leg hanging off. I let it swing lazily back and forth, to and fro. One side and then the other. Two opposites, forever apart.
My fingers stroked the calluses on my palm. The warmth of Aden’s touch had long since faded, but his hurt expression remained stubbornly rooted in my thoughts.
I never thought I’d hear that from you.
I’d made the right decision. I had. Aden was generous and thoughtful, but he was still a prince who saw me—us—as objects to be used. If I’d agreed to help him again, he’d return to his life of fancy clothes and court banquets before I could blink and abandon me just like everyone else had.
My mum wormed her way into my thoughts again. Her honey-brown hair, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, was what mine would look like someday.
Which meant I would never, ever stop cutting it.
There was a squeak across the room, then a heavy thump as Father slid out of his berth. His familiar step sounded, heading in my direction. I kept still, hoping he’d assume I was asleep.
The sheet parted and his face appeared. “You awake, Lane?”
“Aye,” I sighed.
He stepped inside and let the sheet fall behind him. “Doesn’t look like you slept much.”
I didn’t answer. What snatches of sleep I’d managed to get were flooded with dreams of Aden taking my hand, pulling me back into the nest with him, holding my face in his gentle hands, and leaning forward—
My traitorous cheeks were warm again. I flung the dream aside and tried to focus on my father. There was more silver in his hair these days. He looked older today than he ever had.
“There’s something I need to discuss with you, Lane. Someth
ing we’ve needed to talk about for a long time.”
I went still. Was he about to tell me his pirate history?
“I said I would be making a decision about your safety. I worried that the pirates were the bigger threat, but now I fear something far more dangerous. Something I didn’t realize was a problem until that duel.” He paused. “Your mum would’ve been better at this.”
I realized where this was going. Ellegran. Mum. He’d made his decision.
Dread settled in my gut.
“You have to actually raise a child before you can be good at it,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Dropping her at the docks doesn’t count.”
His eyes were distant. He hadn’t even heard me. “She wanted a baby, you know.”
“What?”
“’Twas me who balked when she said you’d be coming. But that all changed when I first held you. Visited you several times between trips while you were growing. She was so proud to show you off, dressing you up and waving from the docks.”
I gaped at him. The woman he’d just described couldn’t possibly have written those missives I’d found in his belongings. “That’s not the way I remember it.”
Father leaned against the wall with a weary groan. “Aye. That’s because she changed. Nara was always a restless woman. Her heart must have wandered until… well, she decided we were a mistake, you and I both.”
I set my jaw, locking my emotions up tight. “She did us a favor, then. Don’t know how you could have loved someone like that in the first place. That’s not what love’s supposed to be.”
“Oh, you know all about love now?” He chuckled. It had a bitter edge to it. “I saw how you looked at Aden during the duel. This fascination you have with him isn’t love, Lane. Love is thinking about someone all day and dreaming about them at night, missing them so much it scrapes your insides. Feeling like a whole person when you’re together, like you can leap over the ocean and then some. Them looking at you like you’re the best thing that ever graced the globe, making you want to be exactly that. Love is somebody you never knew you were missing until the day you meet.”
