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I glare at him instead. “What are you going to do to us?”

“I’m going to keep you where I can see you until we’re out of reach of those brigantines and we’re past Oren Crane’s stronghold. Then you’re all free to go wherever you like, with the exception of Prince Corrick.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. “You’re going to kill him?”

“No. People only want to kill you when you’re the king. When you’re a prince, you’re generally worth more alive. Trust me. I know the difference.”

I want to declare that Harristan will never pay a ransom for Corrick’s return, but he will. I know he will. He’d likely offer the entire kingdom for his brother.

Rian knows it, too. I can see it in his expression.

“So all this time, you were only after money,” I say, seething. “Money and power. All that disdain, and you’re no better than the consuls.”

“No!” he snaps, irritation plain on his face. “Again, I lied aboutvery little. Ostriary is desperate for steel. I have made promises that must be fulfilled. What peace I was able to achieve isverytenuous. If I returned empty-handed, I might have lost the faith of the people, and Oren would have swept in to claim everything.”

“He’ll do it anyway,” Bella calls in a singsong voice before breaking into a fit of coughing. “I hope he hangs you from the bow. Upside down.” A cough. “Naked. Painted with honey for the gulls.”

Rian rolls his eyes. “Last chance,” he says to me, holding up the slice of fruit.

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” He eats it himself and moves away.

Emotion threatens to overwhelm me again, and I have to take a deep breath. I probably should have taken the fruit. It makes no sense to lose my strength when I might need it later.

Then again, the ship is rocking in the strong current, the wind beating the sails so hard that the rigging rattles with every gust. The only thing worse than being tied with my hands behind my back would be the prospect of vomiting on myself in this position. Despite the fact that we’re bound on the deck, the crew has been working tirelessly, moving sails and tying ropes and adjusting chains when Gwyn calls orders.

I make the mistake of looking out at the ocean just as a swell of seawater comes over the side, and for a brief second, I feel like I’m staring straight into the ocean, like the only thing keeping me in the boat is the rope binding my wrists.

Then the boat rights itself, and I’m staring at a wildly bobbing horizon.

One of those brigantines is definitely closer.

A whistle sounds from high overhead, and I crane my neck back.Up at the top of the mast, Marchon clings to the narrowest part of the rigging, where Corrick nearly fell. I’m almost instantly dizzy, but he’s got legs wrapped through the ropes, holding him in place.

“Cap!” he yells, and even in the wind, I can hear the urgency in his voice. “Get your spyglass.”

The ocean swells again, and water splashes onto the deck. My breath catches.

“Is that normal?” I call to anyone nearby.

Tor looks over from where he’s winding rope around a cleat. He laughs. “Oh, Chaos Isle gets a lot worse than that, miss.”

Great.

Rian strides across the deck to fetch a spyglass from his quarters. He takes one quick look, then swears. “Brock!” he calls. “Roll those cannons. Tor! Be ready to man the bilge pump.” The ocean swells again, and even Rian has to grab hold of the rigging. Several of the men shout as the ship tilts in the churning tide.

But a new worry has lodged in my thoughts.Cannons.“What’s happening?” I demand, yanking at my bindings. “Why are you rolling cannons?”

“Becausetheyare rolling cannons.” He looks past me, to where Corrick must be tethered. “That ship doesn’t seem overly friendly now, Your Highness.”

“Maybe they know you’re a lying bastard,” Corrick calls back.

My heart skips to hear his voice sound so strong.

“If you let me go,” Corrick says, “we could try to hail them. I can speak on your behalf.”

Rian seems to consider this for a fraction of a second. “I could never trust you.”