Page 57 of Bloody Black

O ur breath fogs in the chilly air, and I push back the hood of my cloak, inhaling appreciatively. Brine. Tar. Salt. The sea, cold and crisp. These are the familiar scents of Celestia. Stew and fires and hearths. Snow. Lots of snow.

Home.

I haven’t come back since that night.

Overhead, the castle looms, stone gray, its balconies and towers crowned with royal blue and white flags.

In my mind, it was always distinguished.

Stately. Beautiful. A warm, cozy haven against the constant assault of sea and snowstorms. I used to curl up on a blue couch by the window, reading books by a roaring fire.

From this vantage, however, it doesn’t look familiar.

I’ve never seen my home from the water, never approached it from the main gate.

From down here, it looks vast. Cold and forbidding, a fortress of stone.

Solitary. Some of its turrets are crumbling, and its blue tiled roofs need replacing.

But its windows are ablaze, flowers and flags hanging, with everyone ready for the royal wedding.

Xandretta climbs down into the rowboat, the last member to join the raiding party.

“How was he?” I ask.

“Really pissed, actually.” She settles onto one of the wooden benches, and Samson begins rowing us ashore. “He’s a lot less enthusiastic when I’m the one tying him up, I guess.”

I glare at Domino. “You told her about that?”

The fae shrugs. “You didn’t say it was a secret.”

In the water behind us, barely visible, the Queen Anne floats like a silent shadow. Robb, safe on board, is probably cursing my name right now. I imagine him sprawled across our bed, the scent of me still on his skin. He’d be scowling and very, very grumpy.

I’ll make it up to him later, I suppose.

“He’s fine,” Teach mutters, reading my worried expression. “It’s us I’m worried about.”

Fair enough.

Still, the knot in my gut only tightens. If things go wrong, I won’t get the chance to say goodbye. Too many words I’ll never say.

Domino bumps my shoulder with her own. “Since we’re about to die, how was it?”

Flashbacks to the stateroom fill my mind; his kiss. His words. His touch. My lips turn up in a small, secretive smile. It’d been better than I ever hoped for.

“I knew it. The lieutenant has a magic dick.” Domino gives a satisfied sigh .

I shake my head, still smiling. My fist catches her shoulder playfully. “You’re the one who gave me that ‘ if you’re going to heal, stop reopening the wound’ speech, and said I should ‘ focus on the future instead of reliving the past .’”

“Did you all hear that?” Domino asks the group. “She’s listening to me! Finally!”

“Don’t get used to that.” Teach is watching the beach, the dock.

Clearing my throat, I change the subject to more serious matters. “The ceremony starts at ten in the chapel. That gives us two hours to get into position. If anything goes wrong, fall back to the spillway.”

The spillway. Where the moat drained into the sea, forming a waterfall on the beach. I’d drawn each member a map, so they’d know how to escape the castle and all its soldiers.

“To recap the plan, we’ll use the fake invitations from Xandretta. Once we’re in the castle, we’ll blend in, joining the wedding.”

“Ready to die?” Domino claps me on the shoulder.

I huff. “Have some faith.”

“Faith is for fools. I’d rather live in dread.”

Tremaine speaks up. “When I last saw him, William was a formidable opponent. He’d been able to beat me, not just with swords but also with strategy. His technique was near flawless. So if you should be caught…”

“Run as if the devil is breathing down our necks?” Teach finishes.

Tremaine nods. “Throw yourself out a window if you have to.”

“Sounds like a bad idea.” Samson pulls again at the oars, muscles straining .

“We can’t let that stop us, now can we?” Domino jostles him with her elbow.

You’re going to win. You’ve been practicing. Every day and every night. While he’s been sitting on my throne, I’ve been getting stronger, faster, and smarter. When I face him, it will be as Blackbeard the pirate, not as Anne the princess.

“We have to do it now. Once the sun rises, the guards will see the ship in the harbor. They’ll know Blackbeard has come for them. We have to be inside, in the chapel, before then. We make this as quick as possible,” I tell them, as if they don’t already know.

“Zeus and Ares, guide us. Diana, protect us—” Samson’s head is bowed.

“Are you praying?” Domino demands. “Stop that immediately.”

Xandretta addresses the crew. “The maps I’ve placed in your pockets will give you a rough layout of the castle. As discussed previously, there are five floors, and we will be entering on the lowest one. We’ll head to the chapel straightaway, blending in with the wedding guests.”

She recites all this as if she were reading a repair manual.

Meanwhile, across from me, Rokhur adjusts a moth-eaten sleeve. She’ll be there, watching like a cat over a plate of fish. She’ll be there to feast on the dead, and once we’ve won, she’ll take what’s owed.

I glance at Samson. “Once we start, block the entry. We don’t want anyone to miss the show . ”

He bristles with pride. “Aye, Captain. ”

Rokhur tilts her head, an abnormal angle that makes me want to shudder, and touches my cheek. “You’re on your own. As we agreed.”

“Just the way I like it,” I reply.

Teach’s face falls, and instead of staying silent, this time he protests. “What’s that supposed to mean? We’re all in this together, aren’t we?”

I shake my head. “I can watch my own back.”

“I know that. But you don’t always have to be alone. You don’t always have to be the bravest and carry the most. You don’t have to fight every battle and sharpen every sword.” Teach grabs my hand, cradles it in his. “You have us. We have you. Now tell me, who is watching your back?”

Tremaine fidgets uncomfortably; the entire boat is quiet. Samson pulls at the oars. “That’s… bloody beautiful.”

“You aren’t going to quote us a sonnet, are you?” Xandretta grumbles, but she’s smiling, all teeth.

I glance down at our joined hands. This time, I don’t flinch. I don’t pull away. Instead, I study how his thumb overlays mine.

“It’s not about pride. Not this time,” I say softly. “I have to do this for myself. It’s my revenge, not yours, and I should be the one to kill him.”

“We should be there , just in case.”

“I don’t want you there, Teach. I wish I didn’t have to risk any of you, ever again.” My fingers squeeze his. “Just help me get to him. Then stand back, stay clear, and let me end this.”

Our gazes meet, my hand still in his. The struggle is clear in his expression. Finally, he sighs loudly in frustration. “Goddammit, Anne.”

The boat goes quiet again. The only noise is the roar of the surf, the sound of the oars. Again, I glance back at the ship, half expecting Robb to be standing at the railing.

And even though I don’t want to, I find myself relenting.

“Fine. Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll wait for one of you. One of you can help me. The rest, though, have to blend in. Only reveal yourselves if absolutely necessary.”

They agree.

We arrive a few minutes later, slipping between several large ships. It’s such a busy morning, no one notices us, or questions where we come from–after all, there are at least ten other ships at anchor. Floating peacefully.

Every noble in the kingdom must be here. Lords and ladies, high-ranking military officials… Everyone who is anyone is here. In some sense, it’s the most dangerous time to attempt what we’re about to do.

Teach ties up the boat; Domino adjusts her cloak. And me? I stand and stare down at the dock, at the rough-hewn boards. Any blood I might have left here is long gone, all traces of me washed away by time and the sea.

I try not to feel anything.

“I don’t understand why we have to wear all this.” Teach mutters, fiddling with the gold buttons on his coat.

“Because ain’t no one alive won’t recognize a bunch of pirates in their midst.” Domino swats him on the back of the head .

“Come on,” I say to the crew. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Invitations?” One of the guards at the castle gate holds up a beefy hand.

Digging in my bag, I provide the perfectly copied parchments to the trio of guards at the gate.

“And what’s your purpose?” The guard inspects each page, completely disinterested. Most likely, he’s been at his post for hours, asking the same tired questions.

“Entertainment.”

“Of what sort?” I’ve seen sea slugs with more energy than this one.

“We’re whores.” Domino leans in dramatically, then smiles with her painted, pouty lips.

“Oh?” his head jerks up, and he finally gets a good look at the two of us. Me, raven-haired and dark-eyed, and Domino with her porcelain skin.

“You look like a good time,” he says at last.

“It depends.” She gives a sweet, tinkling laugh. But she doesn’t touch him. She doesn’t ask if he’s married. She makes no attempt to lure him in.

“And you? Are you also a whore?” he asks Teach, who couldn’t seem less wholesome if his life depended on it.

“I’m just ensuring the king gets his pick.”

“He’s a eunuch,” Domino lies.

One of the guards taps the pistol tucked in his belt. “Not going to make trouble, are you?”

“No… no, sir.” Teach seems genuinely puzzled, as if the very idea of trouble has never occurred to him. As if he hasn’t been a murdering pirate for years; as if he isn’t, at least partially, the famed Blackbeard.

“Ah.” He studies us for a long, measured moment. Thinking. Surely, he’s not going to question us. Xandretta’s forged invitations are impeccable, done perfectly. Our explanation for who we are is plausible.

Beside me, I can feel Domino tensing.

“Have a good time,” he says at last, handing the invitations back. “Maybe we’ll see you inside.”

We pass through the gate, still holding our breath. Behind us, the guards burst out laughing. Probably some joke at our expense.

Once we’re clear, Domino’s smile vanishes. “I really do hate men.”

“Eh. Maybe you just haven’t met the right one.

” Leisurely, I glance around the courtyard.

It’s smaller than I remember. Braziers burn along the perimeter, their gold flames warming the pale flagstones.

There’s a sculpture of my father with his sword raised, cloak billowing, still standing in the center.

Someone has brushed it free of snow. The scent of cinnamon bread wafts through the air.

Casually, I stroll toward a side entrance. A quick glance around, and then I wrench it open. Samson, Tremaine, and Xandretta stroll in. Dressed well enough to be merchants, but not so fine that they would have to pass as nobles.

The group easily fits right in. Just another batch of guests ready to toast the king and his bonny bride, strolling into the castle through the front door.

“Surely it can’t be that easy,” Teach whispers under his breath.

“No one asks questions if you look like you belong.” I smile, teeth white in the early morning. “To the victors, the spoils.”

“To the losers, the scars.” Domino’s shoulder bumps mine. “Let’s go kill ourselves a king.”