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“It’s done,” Rian says. “I won. I suggest you get over it, Your Highness.” He drops to a crouch and spins the blade.

I want to kick him in the face. I settle for claiming my jacket from Rocco. “You fought so hard to keep that room hidden that it’s making your claims ofsafetyseem a bit suspect, Captain.”

He straightens to face me, while that blade keeps spinning between our feet. “I’ll keep my people safe the way I see fit,” he says.

The people on the deck have gone silent again, likely transfixed by this battle of wills. There’s a part of me that enjoyed the climb—but a larger part of me wonders if I would have enjoyed a good fight a bit more. But as I discussed with Rocco, we’re outnumbered here. If I threw a punch, I’m not entirely sure my guards would be able to keep me safe.

But still, Rian is glaring back at me. He’s waiting for it. He’sreadyfor it.

Then the blade stops, and it’s pointing right at Tessa.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Tessa

The blade has stopped spinning, but unease has pooled in my belly, as if nothing will release the pressure between Rian and Corrick until they come to blows. I’ve seen Corrick climb a rope a hundred times, but this felt too loaded, too tense, too dangerous. When his foot slipped, my heart stopped dead in my chest.

But now they’re back on the deck, and no one looks happy.

Little Anya says, “Miss Tessa. It’s your turn.”

I blink and look over. She points down at the dagger. The point has stopped right at the toe of my boot.

Rian and Corrick are still locked in a death stare, but I put a hand on the captain’s arm. “Rian,” I say quietly. “Continue the game. Tell me what you want.”

He finally tears his gaze away, turning to meet mine.

“Yes,” says Corrick. “Tell her what you want, Captain.”

We’re all so close, and it feels as though the boat could sway andtip me into one of them. Rian’s eyes are on mine now, and my breathing goes shallow. I have no idea what he could ask for, and the moment stretches between us. Butterflies spin in my gut. He’s so mad at Corrick. He’s so protective of his crew. He’s protective ofme. Somehow I feel like a pawn and a princess all at the same time, both eager and afraid.

He takes a step closer to me, and I hold my breath. I half expect him to ask for something just to aggravate Corrick.A kiss. An hour alone. An embrace.

But Rian’s eyes hold mine, and he doesn’t ask for any of those things. “I want to know the purpose of those ships that are following us. I want to know how to ensure they turn back.”

It’s the first time his voice has ever been harsh toward me, and it’s my turn to freeze. “I don’t know,” I say. His expression doesn’t change, and I rush on, “Truly, I don’t know.”

“Prince Corrick does,” he says. “My terms were very clear. I told you I wouldn’t lead warships back to Ostriary.”

“And I didn’t send warships to follow you,” Corrick says. “They’re notmine.”

“I realize that you think I’m just a stupid sailor,” says Rian. “But even on my worst day, I know how to use a spyglass. I can see how those ships are outfitted.”

“Then allowmeto use your spyglass, because I have no idea where those ships came from.”

Rian stares back at him. The tension somehow grows thicker.

Marchon steps forward. “Here,” he says. He’s offering a spyglass to Corrick. “We’re close enough. That’s the flag of Kandala, yes?”

Corrick takes the spyglass and looks. He’s gone completely still.

“Your ships have no purpose this far into the ocean,” Rian says. “So try again.”

“I didn’t send them,” Corrick says again. He lowers the spyglass. Some of the animosity has disappeared from his voice. “Truly.”

“I might have believed you when we were still in the river, but now we’re too far south of Sunkeep. In another day we’ll be in dangerous territory, and those shipscannotfollow us.”

“Because you think they’ll wreck?” says Corrick. “If you’re so concerned, maybe we should just wait and see how they fare.” He pauses. “If you’re as honorable as you say, their presence should be of no concern.”