Page 33

A cool breeze floats in from an open window, skating over my arms that are draped over the edge of the copper tub. Letting my head sink back, the lady’s maid—Collette—runs her fingertips over my scalp and scrubs suds of lavender shampoo into the strands of my hair.

I nearly moan from how good it feels to have clean skin and hair after the week and a half of being at sea.

“Your hair is so beautiful, Rowenya,” Collette croons as she submerges the small copper pitcher into the bath before rinsing the shampoo from my hair with it.

“Thank you.” Stroking one of the locks between my fingers, I’m taken back to a moment long ago when my mother was the one sitting at my side, pouring warm water over my head to rid my scalp of the grime I’d picked up from running through the streets of Emerald Cove with unsavory children.

My black hair is a reminder of my mother and the beauty she was.

Though, the last time I saw her, she bore a brutal scar that challenged that beauty—a scar similar to the ones that mar my own face.

I try not to look in the standing mirror across the room, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen my reflection, it’s hard not to stare.

Three jagged lines cross over my right eyebrow, skipping my eyelid, running down the right side of my face nearly to the edge of my jaw.

The scars are no longer new and pink, but I can still feel the pain of when my grandfather’s knife came down on me as though it happened yesterday.

I can still feel the agony in my heart when he’d discovered who my father had been.

“Are you all right, Rowenya?”

Blinking away the memory, I glance up at Collette and nod. Clearing my throat I say, “Yes. Yes, I’m all right.”

Her smile is gentle, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. It doesn’t matter, though. Some things are never meant to be repeated and the events that transpired that day will forever remain in the past.

Collette takes her time drying my hair and curling it into tiny ringlets with a hot iron rod once I’ve finished my bath.

I told her not to fuss, that I am to leave on a ship filled with burly men for an unknown amount of time, but I couldn’t sway her.

She told me that any woman leaving her room was meant to look her best or it would ruin her reputation. With that, I couldn’t argue.

However, the moment I see the frilly frock that Grayson purchased for me, I can no longer keep quiet.

“I am not wearing a corset, Collette. And what the hells is this?” I hold up the white lace tunic that looks like it came straight from a brothel.

She snatches it from me and places her hands on her plump hips, scowling. Hues of copper shine in her long brown hair that’s tied back with a beautiful red scarf that matches the paint on her lips. “Captain Tyde bought this from the finest tailor on the island. You will wear it.”

I cross my arms over my bare chest and just stare at her in defiance.

Then she does something I do not expect. She bundles the fabric and throws the tunic at me, forcing me catch it before it whips me in the face.

“Put it on.”

If she hadn’t just spent an hour scrubbing me clean and massaging my scalp with the most decadent smelling shampoos, I would cut her open with my blade.

Instead, I roll my eyes and curse her name while slipping on the tunic.

Turning around to face the mirror, I see the very reason Grayson bought it for me as my breasts spill over the top edge when Collette begins to fasten the corset around my waist.

“You can tell the captain that he wasted his money because there’s no way in hells I’m wearing this for longer than breakfast.” I throw up my arms as she yanks on the corset ties at my back. “How do you even eat in this thing?”

“Oh, shush.” She swats my arms down before she returns to lacing up the back, which does nothing to help the situation for my breasts.

Once she finishes with the corset, she wraps my weapons belt around my waist and I ensure my daggers are secured in their sheaths.

Grayson had Collin deliver them to the room while I was still in the bath.

I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell that Collette was working her charms on him, given the gentle way he spoke to her when she received them.

The poor bastard had no chance against her.

I fear I have no chance against her either, now that I’m staring at my reflection wearing the very thing I swore I would never wear.

“You look so beautiful, Rowenya,” she says.

“I look like a working woman dressed as a pirate.” I wiggle my extended arms to show off the frilly lace that cuffs the bottom of the sleeves. “I am the captain of the Trinity . What foe will take me seriously wearing this?”

Grasping onto my upper arms, she forces me to spin around until I am faced with my reflection once again.

She peers around my shoulder and says, “There is no shame in being beautiful, sweet child. Your beauty does not take away from your skill with a blade or your ability to rule over others. It is a thing to own. Wear it like armor and use it to your advantage to cut those down who would deny your place in this world.”

She sounds so much like my mother, I feel stricken with something close to grief, but not quite as lovely. For I cannot feel much of anything good for a woman who chose to cower in the face of the man who murdered her husband.

As I meet Collette’s brown eyes in the mirror, I remember that she is not my mother, but a woman who has made her living off making others shine like pretty pearls plucked from the sea.

I witnessed the truth of her words a little while ago when she won the favor of Collin—a grumpy bastard who never smiles at anyone.

Maybe there is a place for me to use her teachings to make my way in the world.

Maybe .

Donning my new attire, Collette sends me down the stairs for breakfast. As I make my way to the first floor, I can’t help but notice how soft the fabric of the new tunic feels against my skin.

Raising my arms up and down, I test out the mobility to make sure I can still fight in it when necessary.

There doesn’t seem to be any problems with the few quick movements I attempt.

The black linen pants are snug, but not too tight that I fear ripping them in half if I bend over.

The only problem is the fucking corset, but if I wear the tunic without it, my breasts will surely find their way out of it. I am doomed to wear the leather binding contraption, at least until I can find something else.

As I make my final descent from the stairs, I find Grayson with his long legs sprawled out, sitting at one of the larger round tables with Zaos to his right and a few of his other men filling the other chairs. But they are not why my lips split into a wide smile.

The moment Tommy sees me take the final step from the staircase, he jolts from his seat, knocking the chair down behind him, and beams at me. “Miss Rowenya!”

All the men shift in their seats and gaze my way as I head over to the table.

I can feel Grayson’s eyes rake over my body like a sweet caress, but I avoid looking at him, keeping my attention fixed on the lanky young man whose bright eyes shine with joy that shouldn’t be possible for someone who has endured as much as he has.

“Tommy, it’s good to see you.” I give him a hug and he wraps his arms around my shoulders for a moment before we pull away. “I thought you were staying on the ship until we leave Port Solas.”

He looks to Grayson and I follow his gaze. “Captain sent word this morning that I was to meet everyone here for breakfast.”

There’s a lightness to Grayson this morning, almost as though an invisible weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

His eyes roam my body with interest, all but confirming that he chose this particular ensemble for me to wear for his own personal enjoyment.

With that in mind, I curse his name under my breath just loud enough for him to hear before Tommy and I sit down.

His eyes shine with amusement, making it hard to look away from him.

“You’ve proven yourself to be a worthy member of my crew, Tommy,” Grayson says. “Your services are needed today and I know you will make us all proud.”

Tommy straightens his spine a little more and his face shifts from that of a boyish persona to a young man with the desire to make a name for himself. “Thank you, Captain. I won’t let you down.”

The smile Grayson gives Tommy does something strange to my insides. “I know you won’t.”

Harrick and one of his barmaids brings us a lavish breakfast of various meat pies, decadent pastries, and tropical fruits. My mouth waters and I’m thankful for whatever concoction Harrick made me to get rid of the blinding headache I woke up with so I can enjoy this feast.

After piling one of everything onto my plate, I sit back and listen to Grayson and his men spar with one another across the table.

They speak of old journeys and the women they loved and lost due to the life of a pirate.

It reminds me of very similar mornings I’ve shared with my own crew and a pang of sorrow hits my chest.

I miss Amara and Wells and their bickering over nothing.

I miss Raven’s soft laughter and how she always waited for the perfect moment to throw in a barb that would shock us all.

Most of all, I regret that things will never be the same after Raven’s death.

What Blythe did will leave its mark on me and every single one of my crew members for the rest of our lives, and that thought has my sorrow shifting and morphing into a bitter thing inside my heart.

“You’ve made good progress with the key, Rowenya.” Grayson’s voice breaks me from the spell of my thoughts.

I look to him and nod. “It shouldn’t be much longer now before I solve the puzzle.”

“That is good. We are meant to leave to port two days from now.”

“That soon?”