by Rebecca Rode
That’s right. Focus on me, the room, your men. Anyone but Aden.
“Your backup forces will arrive too late,” I told him. “You planned this carefully, but you neglected the commoners. Some people have loyalties that can’t be bought. We Hughens aren’t perfect, but we are loyal to our king.”
Rasmus’s face turned scarlet. He moved so quickly, there was no time to react. He raised his sword and slashed me on the cheek.
I gasped, stumbling backward. My face burned like he’d taken a hot branding iron to it. I clasped my face in one hand, then pulled my palm away. It was bloody.
Rasmus smirked again. “Not such a pretty little thing anymore, are you?”
A blade burst through his chest.
Rasmus stiffened, his eyes round with shock. He looked down, staring at the blade in wonder, then slid to his knees. A second later, he toppled sideways to the floor.
Aden pulled the blade free as he stood above Rasmus’s writhing body, sword aimed at the downed man’s neck.
Rasmus struggled for breath. “Stabbed me… in the back… the rules.”
Aden’s jaw clenched. “What rules?”
The khral sucked in a breath, which rattled around for a moment, and then his lungs released the air one final time. He went still, his eyes staring sightlessly at the war-torn room before him.
A yell went up from one of the remaining townspeople. “King Cedrick has conquered!”
The room filled with cheers. The Messaun soldiers stared at their khral’s body. A few approached cautiously, but at the sight of Aden standing above their liege with a bloody sword, they stumbled for the doors.
The townspeople, looking exhilarated at their victory, shouted at one another to follow. As a wave of men charged after the green uniforms fleeing the room, it went strangely quiet.
It was then that Aden collapsed.
I sat in a hard chair next to Aden’s bedside, legs tucked beneath me. I wore a clean shirt and new trousers, though both felt odd without axes at my waist. My cheek still ached. The surgeon, or physician as they called him here, had stitched it together before placing a bandage on my cheek. It felt heavy and annoying. I couldn’t wait to tear it off.
Aden wasn’t as fortunate. He lay in his bed on a mountain of pillows, eyes closed. His chest moved slowly up and down under the sheet. I stared at him, memorizing the lines of his face.
He hadn’t gained consciousness since the events of this morning. The physician insisted the blade had missed his lung, if barely. Movement would be painful for months, and his skill with the sword would never be the same. But he would live a normal life. If being the young king of a battered nation could mean normal.
Like the queen’s chamber, Aden’s rooms had a sitting area. Its colors were darker and more sophisticated, and it had only one window, but it felt exactly right. It even smelled like him. I imagined Aden playing in here as a boy, irritating his tutors with ill-timed jokes and constantly messing up his hair. It brought a smile to my face, pulling the bandage on my cheek tighter.
A rustling sound approached at the door. I looked up to find Aden’s mother and Magie entering. As Magie stationed herself by the door, the queen came around the bed to stand beside me and pointed to Aden in a questioning manner.
I shrugged. “His color is better than before.”
She nodded, seeming to understand. Magie had brought the queen and her daughters back from the watch house shortly after the battle’s end. I couldn’t imagine the regal woman hiding in such a dark, tattered place. She seemed like the type to be born in a lace-trimmed gown.
My smile faded at the thought of dresses. Elyss’s body had been taken for burial in town with the others. I hadn’t left Aden’s side for the service, but Magie said it was an honorable one, well attended and respectful for those who had sacrificed all. Elyss had been laid to rest in the same blue gown she’d chosen for her escape.
At least the pirates were gone. They’d fled within the hour, taking their ships with them. A few of the foreign nobles still remained, though most had left nearly as fast as the pirates. Any Messauns who lingered had been arrested. The dungeon was overflowing.
Aden’s mother caught sight of the broken comb in my hands and raised an eyebrow. I shoved the pieces into my pocket, feeling my cheeks warm.
“Her Majesty recognized the comb right away,” Magie said, signing again. “Don’t fret. She trusted you then and she trusts you now.”
If I’d been blushing before, now my face burned. “I didn’t know what it meant.”
“And if you had?”
I wasn’t sure whose question it was, but it gave me pause. Would knowing my family’s legacy have changed my path? Father hadn’t trusted me to know, though I suspected it was the last secret he’d meant to share that day in the brig. Belza sided with Rasmus because he promised power and glory. Did a tiny part of myself long for that as well? Had Father been right to worry?
“Everything would have played out the same,” I said, still unsure whether it was true.
As Magie finished interpreting, the queen nodded again. She reached up and brushed my face, her eyes deep in thought. Then her finger traced the bandage on my cheek.
I pulled away, suddenly self-conscious. Rasmus’s words echoed in my mind. Not such a pretty little thing anymore, are you? Surely Aden’s mother was thinking the same thing.
Aden was a king, and I—what was I? Not a sailor, not without a ship. Not a captain’s boy, yet not a lady. There were so many parts to me that felt fragmented, broken like the glass being swept up in the ballroom right now.
“Laney Garrow,” Magie said hesitantly. She glanced at the queen and swallowed. “There’s been news.”
I sat a little straighter. By their solemn expressions, this couldn’t be good.
Magie pointedly avoided looking at Aden. “Don’t worry, it isn’t bad. That is to say, it’s very good news. Prince Mael has returned.”
I nearly choked. “What?”
“He apparently faked his death. For his own protection, I’m sure.” Her face soured at that. “When Aden awakes, he’ll be very glad to hear his brother is alive.”
And shocked to hear that the crown he’d defended—nearly with his life—wouldn’t be his after all. An anger I couldn’t articulate began to boil inside. “Let me make sure I understand. Mael ran away and hid until Aden won his kingdom back for him. Now he’s returned to take control.”
Magie’s hands went still a moment, her expression uncertain. “As second son, Aden was never meant for the throne. His purpose was to defend the crown, and he did that. I’m certain he’ll be pleased that he can return to his regular duties.”
I was far from certain. A surge of disappointment rushed to mind as I remembered Aden’s promise. He no longer had the power to take back his father’s Edict. Would Mael do it instead?
The queen, examining my face, began to sign.
“I see your anger,” Magie said for her. “While I’m sad that my Aden will not take the throne, I’m relieved that he’s now free to choose the course of his life. Wherever that may take him.”
I stared at her, not daring to hope. Surely she didn’t refer to Aden and me. We were more doomed even than my father’s marriage. The queen, of all people, had to know that.
“Take my seat, Your Highness,” I said. “He needs to see you when he wakes.”
She didn’t turn to Magie for a translation. Instead, she placed a finger on my mouth to silence me and shook her head slightly. Then she gently brushed her fingers around her face.
“Beautiful,” Magie interpreted softly.
I looked at them in disbelief.
The queen patted my chest now, just above my heart. Then she began to sign again.
Magie’s voice wobbled with emotion. “She says your pirate’s blood lent you strength, but your woman’s heart chose your direction. She sees why her son favors you.”
I had once loathed everything about women like Marina. Yet amid the softness, I sa
w that hard glint in her eyes, that determination from earlier. I marveled at the queen who had captured the heart of a mourning king and raised four children. Her face boasted a collection of deep purple and blue bruises. She certainly didn’t look like a spoiled woman.
Beautiful.
I’d spent my life believing that my femininity was something to hide, to bury deep inside with shame. It made me different and vulnerable. But Aden’s mother was both soft and strong, loving and fierce. Her womanhood gave her a unique kind of power. I felt a longing deep within me, hoping I could accept who I was like this woman had. It didn’t matter whether Aden would become king or not. I had work to do, and do it I would.
Suddenly overwhelmed, I blinked back tears. “Thank you.”
She took my hand and gripped it tightly. Her hands were soft and manicured against my rough calluses, but she didn’t flinch. Then she turned to her son. I saw the fondness in her eyes.
We sat there for a long moment, the two women who loved Aden most. And there, for the first time, I understood what home meant.
The palace’s massive hallway was quiet as I crept barefoot along its elaborately woven carpets. I carried a bag slung over one shoulder and my boots in one hand, moving silently. My bag contained everything I owned in the world—a new shirt, my repaired and wrapped axes, and what remained of my father’s comb. Even now, two weeks after the Messauns’ panicked withdrawal, I gazed at the grandness around me in silent awe. For a girl accustomed to the low ceilings and swaying floor of a ship, it felt as if the very universe and its stars could fit inside this place.
I was grateful for that feeling of discomfort, because I couldn’t let myself grow used to this. It wasn’t my world. Nor could it ever be.
Early morning sunlight filtered through the tall stained-glass windows as I exited from a side entrance and put my boots on. A group of servants walked past, whispering among themselves. I nodded to them and they inclined their heads, but no more. Nobody knew quite how to address Prince Cedrick’s… whatever I was. I shouldn’t have been allowed to enter the palace, let alone stay there as a guest of honor. The royal family had defended my trousers and the pair of axes I wore everywhere, but I saw a familiar wariness in the servants’ eyes. A man who killed pirates would have been respected as the warrior he was. But a girl with pirate weapons and a scar on her face, especially one the prince favored? I didn’t belong. Laney Garrow was neither foe nor friend, and the entire palace knew it. That was one reason I’d chosen the early morning hours for my departure.
Another was that I’d said enough goodbyes. I couldn’t bear another, this one in particular.
The town felt like an old friend as I wound slowly through its muddy streets. Nearly everything was as it should have been now. The sharp sound of hooves on cobblestone meant carts delivered their wares as normal. Children played about in the streets, dodging irritated adults who shouted after them. The air no longer felt strangled, the people frightened into silence. King Eurion and his lords had received an honorable burial. And then last night, Prince Aden had been declared healthy enough to leave his bed and walk freely about the palace.
The only thing out of place was me.
King Mael now wore the crown on his cowardly head. He hadn’t lifted his father’s Edict about women sailors, instead granting me immunity at Aden’s insistence. Apparently their argument had lasted hours. It seemed King Mael was a slightly younger version of King Eurion.
The trip to the docks took longer than I remembered. When I arrived, everything looked exactly as it had when the Majesty had docked weeks before. I half expected my father to clasp me on the shoulder and hand me a few coppers for dinner. The sense of loss felt like a sword through the gut, sharp and permanent. I doubted it would fade anytime soon.
But even deeper, I knew he would be proud. I’d brought Aden home and defeated my father’s murderer. Most of all, I was Laney Garrow, confident and skilled. Not the lady’s daughter he’d hoped for, perhaps, but still the sailor he’d raised me to be.
The ship I waited for was a dot in the distance, but I recognized its sails. I patted the bulge in my pocket. The queen had offered a reward without my asking. I’d refused my portion, but the bag of gold I carried rightfully belonged to Captain Dayorn. She approached for a larger purpose now, however. One far more important to us both.
In two hours’ time, Captain Dayorn and I would depart for KaBann and its Council meeting. There Elena “Laney” Garrow would begin her destiny.
Fighting a surge of nervousness, I found a seat next to the fish exchange to await the ship’s arrival. The smell was overpowering, but it was the perfect spot to watch the activity on the docks. An unfamiliar vessel to my right made lazy preparations to embark, a stunning new man-of-war. She was larger than the Majesty, with three masts and more than two dozen guns. A military vessel. Too bad she hadn’t been ready to sail when the Messauns had attacked. Or perhaps it was a good thing—it meant she had come out of the war unscathed. The wood was crisp, untouched by sun and storm, and the lines looked like they’d been raised just days before. It was about to leave on its maiden voyage.
Lane would have asked to sign on. It was work, after all, and I was now immune to the horrid Edict that would take my life. But Laney would do no such thing. Joining the Hughen navy said I meant to serve the king, and I couldn’t do that. Not when the Edict remained in force. Not when Hughen itself disagreed with who I was about to become. Not even Aden would understand.
I imagined life on a new ship, learning the names of a new crew and visiting the same ports as always. That dream felt empty now. Who would I argue with about politics? Who else would I sneak to the nest with and tease about his crisp accent? No other man in the world could compare to Aden. But he had his family back now.
And princes didn’t marry pirates.
“Pardon me,” a deep voice called.
I turned to find a sailor in a navy uniform approaching from the direction of the ship. He had to be just a few years older than me.
“They told me who you are,” he said, ducking his head shyly, “but I wanted to see for myself. Is it true you killed Captain Belza?”
It was then that I noticed work on the navy vessel had essentially stopped. Dozens of sailors gawked at me from the deck, whispering to one another. A few waved.
“Aye” was all I could say. Had word truly flown so fast?
He took my hand in his and plastered a wet kiss right on top. “Belza killed my pap at sea. I’ve been looking forward to his death for a long time. Thank you.”
“Pleasure.” The odd thing was, it hadn’t been much of a pleasure at all. Having Belza gone hadn’t changed my life that much. If anything, I felt a little emptier.
“Laney!”
Aden trotted up on horseback, breathless, and dismounted before the horse had fully stopped. The sailor’s eyes went round, then he bowed and darted back toward his ship as Aden handed the reins to the guards who’d come with him. They glared disapprovingly at their prince for trying to ride through the city by himself.
I rose to my feet. “You shouldn’t be riding yet.”
“And you shouldn’t run off like that,” Aden said, breathing a little too hard. He hid the pain well, though. “I thought you’d left me for good.”
I pressed my lips together and looked away. Now I’d have to say goodbye, and I wasn’t sure my heart could take it.
Aden’s shoulders sagged as he took in the bag slung over my shoulder and realization sank in. “It’s the KaBann captain, isn’t it? She’s coming to take you away.”
I said nothing.
He sighed, squinting out at the bay. “Can we walk? This won’t take long.”
“Here on the docks? Everyone will see us.”
He took my hand in answer, his fingers threading through mine like they had a hundred times before. I tried to memorize how it felt, enjoying his warmth one last time. Somehow, the thought of this ending left a physical ache in my gut, like a permanent hunger.<
br />
“My mother wanted to give you a position in court and your own room in the palace.” He grasped my shoulders and stroked them with his thumbs. “But I know you. You tolerate it here, but you’re restless. The sea isn’t something I dare compete with.”
He didn’t understand. I did love the sea, but I also loved him. I wanted both.
Aden plunged on, looking nervous. “I talked to Mael’s new general, and he agreed to give you a position in the navy, if you want it. You would return here every three months, so we could still be together often.” He dropped his voice to almost a whisper. “You told Rasmus something interesting that day. ‘We Hughens are loyal to our king.’ You already see Hughen as your home. I’m just offering you a little part of it.”
He made a persuasive argument, but there was one thing missing. I didn’t want a little part of his country. I wanted him, and all of him. It was precisely why I had to leave.
“It wouldn’t be fair to pretend any longer,” I said. “Your kingdom is shaky enough. The longer I stay, the more questionable my presence will become. I may technically be an exception, but in the eyes of the entire world, I shouldn’t exist.”
“You don’t understand. That’s exactly what I want to change. We can all build a better kingdom together, men and women sailors alike. When they see how capable and honorable you are, the court will support changing the law. If we apply enough pressure—”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m not who you think I am, Aden. Captain Belza was my uncle. My father was Elena’s son. I’m her granddaughter. Even my mother was a pirate.”
To my surprise, he chuckled. “I know. I suspected when I saw your father fight Kemp, but there was no question when I spotted that ugly comb in your hair.”
I stared at him dumbly. He’d known. Of course he had.
“That never mattered to me,” he said gently. “Your ancestors did terrible things, but so did mine. Most people walking this planet can say the same thing.”
