Page 26

S eidon drew the water up enough to raise him to the level of his favorite seat hewn into the cliff wall, then let it slip silently back down to its usual level.

Morning was barely a glint on the horizon, the world all soft silvers and blues.

He hadn’t slept—hadn’t dared—as long as the mer forces were in his waters.

But they’d retreated three hours ago, and he’d let himself doze for a few minutes at a time afterward.

He didn’t feel particularly tired yet, but he would be later if today proved as packed as he expected it to be.

He’d have to return to the palace and one of his offices there so he could go over the reports from his Guardians.

Offer aid to anyone who needed it. Send personal messages of regret to the families of any casualties from the skirmishes.

He wanted to do a bit of scouting of his own, from within the sound, if not out at sea.

Convince Storm to enter training for his Elite Guard.

Attend the evening missa at the cathedral.

And, if he had a few spare moments, solve the mystery of Jade Calimore and the hawk that had carried her sister around in search of her.

He was missing information—he could see the gap, though he had no idea what should fill it.

The mer—no, more specifically, the Black Tails—had targeted Jade.

The same Black Tails who had been fighting the House of Sael’s color guard last night once they were in open water.

Not while they were in the sound, which seemed to indicate that they hadn’t wanted Seidon’s forces to get involved.

Another piece he could make no sense of.

The morning air was cool against his wet skin. Not cold, but not comfortable. He called the water out of his hair, off his neck and shoulders and torso, and gathered it into his hand. Stilled it and gazed into the reflection of treetops and scuttling clouds that he cupped in his palm.

“That’s a good trick.”

He looked up with a frown—not at the fact that Arden Bleu was approaching, but at the fact that he hadn’t heard her over the noise of the waterfall. Perhaps he was more tired than he thought. He turned it into a smile though and sent the water leaping back into the pool.

“Show off.” She grinned and picked her way over the rocks toward his ledge.

Someone must have pointed her to the supplies last night, because she’d traded the gown for a deep blue Guardian uniform.

Far more practical a choice—regrettable nonetheless.

No lovely expanse of back to settle his hand against when he guided her somewhere.

No more striking white against the rich color of her skin.

Geysers. He probably should have taken a longer nap.

He waited until she’d taken a seat beside him, though she settled an arm-span away, her face toward the sky. “I’ve never seen so little of a sunrise.” Her words were murmured—meant, he presumed, to be lost in the waterfall’s melody.

No one else was stirring yet, so he kept his reply just as quiet. “Are you always up this early?”

She nodded. “My favorite part of the day. Usually I spend it on the upper deck with Papa, some coffee, and the gulls.” Her smile bloomed only to fade. “This is the second morning without Jade. The second of a number I know won’t be small. And Mama…”

Her anxiety radiated off her. If only by soaking it in, there would be less to burden her.

If only he could do something. If only the mystery in his blood that kept him healthy could be given to others.

Maybe someday Dr. Datlov or one of her successors would be able to inject the nanites into someone else to fix what was broken.

But if that day ever came, it would be too far from now to help Sapphire. “You should go home for a few hours today. See them. Assure them that we’re looking.”

She turned her sharp-featured face toward him, that same look in her eyes that had been there last night when he asked her to play along with the ruse of the gown. “Why only a couple hours? You can’t actually need us here. Or not me anyway—I grant that Storm is useful.”

He breathed a laugh. “Are you kidding? You rode a hawk last night. I’ve been devising any number of uses for aerial surveillance while you were sleeping.”

He didn’t know too many people who would roll their eyes and dismiss him, even given his jesting tone. She did though. “Yeah, I’m so sure it’s repeatable.”

“I intend to find out.” He nodded upward, where the first birds of the morning had taken to wing.

He could convince himself he heard them calling over the sound of the water, but it could as easily have been his imagination.

Regardless, Jade’s hawk was no doubt one of the ones taking off from its nest and soaring along the coast. Could well be the one above them now. “See if it’ll come down.”

Arden stared at him like he was an absolute moron. Which, naturally, made him grin. No one but Enoch ever looked at him like that. “How would you have me do that?”

He waved a hand. “I don’t know. Whistle? Bird call? Shout up, ‘Hey, how about another ride’?”

“One problem with that plan.” She leaned a little closer, dry amusement in her eyes.

“I’m not going to do that while everyone is still sleeping and wake them up.

And I’m also not going to do that while they’re awake and watching and hence witnesses to what is sure to be humiliation.

So…I guess that’s what we call an impasse. ”

He leaned closer too. “You’re forgetting one thing. I already know your weakness. All I have to do is point out that another aerial run could help us learn something to lead to your sister, and you’ll mutter something under your breath and do whatever it takes.”

She muttered something under her breath and tilted her head up, probably hoping the hawk had vanished.

It circled back into view, right on cue, its piercing cry loud enough now to wake those sleepers. It was lower. Closer.

She huffed out a breath. “Low blow.”

“For a good cause. Try whistling.”

Another roll of her golden eyes. A sigh. But then she cupped her hands and let out a whistle that was a decent imitation of the bird’s cry. Her eyes widened when it shifted its trajectory and started circling lower, aiming toward them.

He chuckled again. “We should have made a wager—then you’d owe me something right about now.”

She pushed to her feet, eyes on the hawk. “If it lets me ride it again, I’ll give you the choice of any shell in my collection—which is the only thing I have to bet with.”

“Oh no. I’m not taking a girl’s shells.” He stood too, moving with her toward the same stretch of beach the hawk had used last night.

If it meant to land, that was the only option.

“Those things are one of a kind, you know. I won’t accept anything less than the rest of the dance that was interrupted last night. ”

Though the hawk was flapping its way down, she paused to send him that look again. “Absolutely not. I don’t intend to ever step foot in another ballroom.”

He planted his hands on his hips and shook his head. “You are definitely attending more balls.”

“Why?” Bafflement saturated her tone.

Who knew that could make him like someone so much?

“Because the only thing that makes a ball worth having is knowing my friends are there. And if you try to tell me we’re not friends, you’ll make me pout.

Which I’m pretty sure is illegal.” He lifted a hand to his mouth for a mock-whisper. “I’m a king, you know.”

“You’re ridiculous.” But the teasing had made her shoulders relax. “And I finally understand why Papa always talked about you so personally. Even so, no more balls.”

“I’ll order you there by royal decree.”

She snorted, watching as the hawk landed a bit awkwardly in the small space and shook out its wings and feathers. Rather than approach, she tensed. “I’m not afraid of you or your decrees, Seidon.”

She had been yesterday morning—or of something about him, anyway.

The fact that now she could joke with him made him wonder what could change in a day.

So much. Often too much. “Well, I don’t need a ball to claim a dance anyway.

Just a song, and I can always sing one myself, if that’s what it takes. ”

Likely, she turned to him solely to give herself a moment’s reprieve, an excuse not to approach the hawk. Not to hope and risk failure. That look had compounded, redoubled as she clearly tried to sort out why he was so determined to dance with her.

He waited, not exactly trying to keep the smile from playing over his lips. He’d never met a woman so utterly oblivious to herself. This could take a while.

A full twenty seconds passed before she shook her head, eyes narrowing. She dropped her voice even lower as she said, “Are you flirting with me, Your Majesty?”

He matched her volume. “His Majesty definitely isn’t—that would be a terrible idea. Seidon, on the other hand…he definitely is.”

If she kept looking at him like that, he’d have to kiss her eventually to prove someone could want to. “Why?” she asked again.

“I can name several reasons.”

“Is one of them that you’re going insane from the stress of an impending war or at least being ridiculous to offset it?”

“No.” He eased closer, put his hands on her shoulders, and turned her around to face the hawk.

It was watching them, but he couldn’t detect any wariness in its posture.

Not that he was an avian expert. “First would be because you keep asking why I would want to flirt with you, which is adorable.” He urged her forward a step, keeping his hands on her shoulders, his mouth closer to her ear.

“Second would be because you’re not afraid of me. ”