Page 15

LILY

I sat across from Jean in The Fiery Dragon, a pub in the center of the kingdom. I watched him with shrewd eyes and waited for him to take his turn.

Decades older than me, he stared down at his hand and tried to figure out his next move.

“The sun is going to rise by the time you make a decision.”

His irritated eyes flicked up to mine. “You can’t intimidate me, Lily.”

“Not trying to intimidate you. Trying to rush you.” My hand kept my cards flat on the surface, so there was no chance he or anyone behind me could read my hand.

He stared at me a moment longer before he grabbed his coins and tossed them into the center of the table.

“Ooh, tough guy.” I grabbed my coins and pushed them into the center as well.

Across the bar, I noticed a quick commotion, everyone moving away from the door. Two groups of men at nearby tables grabbed their tankards and quickly vacated their seats. My eyes narrowed then spotted the man who emerged through the parting of the crowd.

My father.

He was dressed in his normal clothes, a long-sleeved black shirt that was tight on his arms and black trousers.

Even when he didn’t wear the uniform with the family crest in the center, everyone knew exactly who he was.

Statues were erected in the town square in his honor.

Artists painted his picture and hung them in their restaurants and establishments. Revered and adored by all.

His eyes found mine, and he gave a slight smirk.

“We ain’t got all day, kid,” Jean rapped his knuckles on the surface of the table.

There were several open seats at the bar because at least a dozen men moved out of my father’s way.

He took a seat and was immediately given service.

A tankard of beer was presented to him like they’d already had it ready when he walked inside.

He took a drink then turned to me, leaning against the corner and watching the game as a spectator.

I realized that Jean had put more money into the pot, like he had a good hand or wanted me to believe such. I met his bet but didn’t exceed it, making him believe that I was only trying to keep his pace. “Moment of truth.”

He tossed his cards on the table, having a full suit. That meant he had one of each card, the dragon, the king, the bear, and the elf. He smirked like there was no way I could possibly beat that.

I tossed my cards onto the table. I had four dragons—the highest hand.

His face immediately became crestfallen.

“I’m in a charitable mood, so I’ll split the pot with you.”

“I don’t need your charity.” He swiped his hand across the surface of the table and sent the coins across the floor. He knocked over his beer too, then walked off.

“Sore loser.”

My father left his seat then kneeled on the floor to pick up all the coins my opponent had tossed aside. I helped him, and others immediately joined in because my father was the last person who should pick up anything.

We made a stack on the table, and my father grabbed his beer before he took the vacated seat. “That’s a lot of coin. What are you going to do with it?”

“Buy more beer.”

He smirked.

“Probably donate most of it to the orphanage. I wanted to grab a few things at the market tomorrow.” I lived on the castle grounds and ate dinner with my family sometimes, but I carried on an independent life.

Earned my own money gambling or finding work in the village.

Sometimes, I harvested crops with the farmers, and other times, I picked up a few shifts at a local pub serving beer to its patrons.

I’d thought I would find more treasure than I could handle on my journey as a pirate, but I’d ended up losing everything instead.

My father told me the royal treasury was open to me for whatever I needed, but he never pushed it on me. He seemed to respect the fact that I wanted to take care of myself, and he never suggested it again.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Zehemoth said you were playing cards tonight. Assumed this was the place.”

“You wanna play a hand?” I scooped the cards into a pile in the center of the table then shuffled them. “No bets, of course.”

My father took a drink from his tankard then licked the foam off his lips. “Let’s go.”

We played a couple hands, the two of us quiet most of the time. My father was an unpredictable player without obvious tells. And he knew me well enough to read my tells easily. We were evenly matched.

“How are you?” he asked after he got his second beer. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Just getting used to home.” I traded some of my cards for new ones then glanced at my hand before I covered it once more.

My father did the same. “Winter shouldn’t be here so soon, but I think it’s upon us.”

“Yeah.” I felt the chill in the evenings. The days were mild but had a cool crispness. Flowers were absent, and the trees were already withered. “That storm was severe.”

“I suspect it’ll be a difficult winter.”

“Will you reduce tariffs?”

“I think I’ll remove them entirely.”

“Really? You’ve never done that before.”

“Because I think this will be the harshest winter we’ve had in a long time.” He set his hand down for me to see.

I put mine down, and he beat me.

He seemed to be finished playing because he didn’t pile the cards in the center. He grabbed his tankard by the handle and took a drink. When he emptied the contents, he set it to the side, and without his asking, the waitress brought another.

My father always felt so much older to me, but now that we were almost the same age in appearance, it felt strange.

We looked more like brother and sister than father and daughter.

Being fused with Khazmuda had frozen him in youth, barely thirty.

We were still six years apart, but that gap was growing thin.

“When I was your age, we had a winter that eclipsed both fall and spring. Toward the end, we were sustaining off onions since those were the only things we had left. My father not only lifted tariffs and taxes for that season, but the entire year, so everyone would have time to recuperate their losses.”

“You were eating onions too?”

“Yes,” he said. “My father believed the best way to rule the people was to be one of the people. So, when they suffered, we suffered too. When they thrived, we thrived. It was the best way to understand and anticipate the needs of the kingdom as a whole.”

“Is that why you don’t eat onions?” I noticed he never had them in stew. They were never prepared in our cooked meals. When we were served salads, only his plate wouldn’t have sliced onion.

“Yes.” He smiled at the memory. “I’ve had my share.”

“Well, hopefully that doesn’t happen again.”

“I’d rather eat whatever Khazmuda catches than that.”

“Like bear?” I asked in surprise.

“I’ve had it a couple times. Not so bad.”

I took a drink from my tankard, wanting to taste the beer and stop thinking about onions and bear. I thought about the warm islands where the air was always moist, when there was always warmth all year-round. Traveling there for the winter didn’t sound so bad…if it were closer. “How have you been?”

He paused before he answered. “Good.” He had dark eyes that reminded me of Wrath’s. Dark like the earth after a heavy rain, almost the color of mud. There was an emptiness to his gaze, something he hid from me.

“You don’t sound good.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He remained mired in subtle despair. “I just worry about you.”

“I’m okay, Dad.”

“Physically, yes. But you’re different.”

“New places and new experiences change a person.”

“But I see the shadow of grief on your face. I see the burden of emotion. I wish I could help you carry it.” His pained eyes looked into mine with unconditional love, his heart on his sleeve.

“I’ll be okay, Dad. It just takes time.” Time to accept the fact that I would live while the others would be eaten by fish and their bones would litter the ocean bed for eternity. I couldn’t save them.

He gave a slight nod.

“I knew what I signed up for when I left.” I didn’t quite expect all those terrible things, but I had been prepared to face them when they hit me head on. “I just wish I wasn’t the only one who made it back.”

“It wasn’t your fault. The fault lies with Captain Hartshire when he ignored your pleas.”

“He didn’t do it on purpose.” He didn’t want his whole crew to end up dead—including himself. “He made a mistake. It happens.”

His eyes softened. “I’m glad you got that from your mother.”

“What?”

“Empathy. I’ve never had much of it.”

“But you’re so kind.”

He smirked, amusement entering his gaze. “To you.”

I knew of his heroism and his victories and nothing else. It was hard to imagine him being ruthless when he was always so giving to his family and his people. “Who have you been unkind to?”

“A lot of people.”

“That’s hard to imagine.”

His eyes moved elsewhere, and he brought his new tankard closer. “I was a different person than I am now. I was angry— really angry .”

Because his uncle killed his family and took his kingdom. That would piss anyone off. “I can’t even imagine.” If someone came to the Southern Isles and murdered everyone I loved right before my eyes…

“I’m glad you don’t know that anger—and hopefully never know it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He took a drink of his pint then turned quiet for a while.

His gaze settled elsewhere, like he thought of different matters.

But then his eyes came back to me, his expression sharper.

“I hate to broach this subject. I wanted to give you some time before I brought up the incident, but it’s something we need to discuss. ”

Was he going to ask if I’d traveled to the forbidden island to the west? If I’d disobeyed his wishes and encountered a vengeful god? My heart was just seconds from exploding. If he looked me in the eye and asked for the truth, I wouldn’t be able to lie.