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“Will you think less of me if I say yes?”

“Not at all. It rather improves my opinion of you.” His eyes sparkle. “You look absolutely delicious, by the way.”

“Thank you.” We hold eye contact and level tones, as if this is a perfectly normal conversation, even as my heart sputters. A different kind of excitement surges through my veins, replacing the adrenaline brought on by the situation. The earthy scent of the surrounding vineyards reaches me as my senses readjust to focus on the moment.

“And if those Cerauno pricks think I’ve ruined you for Jamys, I will show you just how ruined you can be.”

I run my tongue across my teeth. “You’re awful.”

“In comparison, you will be so bored by his lovemaking, you’ll fall asleep during it.”

His assertion would be depressing, but I’ll never know the feeling. “Tomas, when you return—”

“The admirals have been sent for,” Lord Wymond calls out as he approaches. “Here is your ship’s inventory log.” He hands a bundle of parchments to Tomas. “Be ready to go by sunrise.”

I offer him a thin smile. “Thank you for being perpetually at the ready.”

“Of course, Arabella.” He continues toward the docks.

Tomas squeezes my hand. “I have to go.”

“I know. Be careful.” To leave him without confirming that we’re going to do what we can to be together pains me, but this isn’t the time. Perhaps while he’s gone, I’ll find a way to do it without ruining any parties involved.

He walks away, taking a piece of me with him. Soon I’ll be able to kiss him goodbye regardless of who might bear witness. I have to believe that to turn away.

Chapter thirty-seven

Fires light up the walls and parapets of Mirador, looking festive and welcoming. How many times have I thought this to be my gilded cage? Compared to the prospect of Ceraun and Urian, this is an open range of endless freedom. I land on my balcony and go in to send word to Mother that Highbluff is preparing their fleet. Hair down, face cleaned, and undressed, I sit at the foot of my bed, but how could I possibly sleep? Tomas is readying to sail off into a battle where even our ally is his enemy.

My stomach knots.

His joking and downplaying of the situation wore off on my return home. I’m right back to being worried sick and desperate for him not to go. What is Penum trying at anyway? I pull my legs up to my chest, curling myself into a tight ball. There will be no sleep for me tonight. After enough sitting and rocking to drive me mad, I go back out onto my balcony. A spring breeze should offer me solace. Or at least a distraction.

My attention is pulled to the figure pacing about the garden below. I dive off the balcony and land behind him. “Jamys?”

He jumps and turns toward me. “Arabella!” He pulls a palm down his face. “Do you make it a habit to sneak up on people? And”—he looks me up and down and presses his lips together—“going outside in your nightclothes?”

I cross my arms over the pale linen. “You can’t possibly be uncomfortable with this. Let’s be honest, this covers me up more than the dress I wore tonight.”

“Well, yes, but propriety…”

“I don’t care. What are you doing out here?”

“I can’t rest.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I should be on my way back to Ceraun.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sits on a stone bench, and I join him, pressing his hand where it sits on his knee. He looks up at me with sad eyes.

“What is it?” I ask.

He pauses before responding. “Penum has been an ever-increasing problem for us. I hate to point out yet another unromantic reason for us to marry, but the truth is, we need you.” He’s marrying for kingdom and duty as much as I would be. Except I can’t give up my entire life and any chance of happiness for it. “What I’d give… I’m sorry that you…”

I wrap his hand in both of mine. I don’t want to soothe him with lies, but what could I say that would be both truthful and helpful?

“I promise, I will try to make you happy,” he says. “I don’t know if I’ll succeed, but if you help protect Ceraun, I will do anything you wish.”

Jamys knows as well as his father that they’re planning to use me, but at least Jamys is kind about it, maybe even remorseful. I hate to take away his hope of protecting his kingdom by dissolving our betrothal, but I’ll have to. “Of course I will protect Ceraun.” As an ally. “Why haven’t you asked for our assistance before?”