Page 38 of The Ever King

I’d take her word for it. My fingers trembled as I worked the numerous buttons on the masquerade gown. “Keep me from the king and I’ll be your loyal shadow.”

She snorted and shook her head like I was an utter fool. “Hard to do when it’s his ship, earth fae. Now wash, and maybe I’ll take you to the king, so you can thank him for allowing you to live this long.”

A bit of defiance bled to the surface. I thought of Jonas, of Alek, I even thought of tales I’d heard of my mother’s sharp tongue against enemies.

I added my own step to the distance between us. “You must not have heard correctly. I will not be going to the king.”

“You will.”

A booming voice made both me and the woman startle.

“Tait.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve told you not to be slinking up on me like that.”

The man was more than a little intimidating. Broad and strong; muscles on his shoulders, his chest, and the bulge of veins on his forearms hinted he’d swung more than a few iron blades.

His hair was tied off his neck, and like Bloodsinger, he kept the front out of his eyes with a black scarf. Two silver hoops pierced his ears, and gold rings lined his fingers. A black ink tattoo of a skull and crossed daggers over his chest was visible through the laces of his shirt, but it was the soft glow of red in his eyes that sent a chill down my spine. Harsher than the king’s, more flames against a night sky, and the flecks of red were twisted with a rage that marked the man as one never to be with alone.

He crossed the room, hateful eyes pinned to me. “Get dressed. You’ll be meeting Sewell today. King’s giving you galley duties.”

I didn’t know what galley duties meant, nor who this Sewell was, but anger and bitterness from the night rampaged through my body.

“I must refuseyour king.” My voice trembled, slight enough I wasn’t certain he noticed, but I did. It would be impossible to hide fear. In truth, no one on this ship would believe it if I tried. But strength did not mean there was no fear. I could stand tall, I could defy my enemies, and I could still be afraid.

“You’ll dress yourself, or I’ll do it for you. I won’t be soft.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “And I’ll let the crew watch. They’d be glad to gawk at this particular piece of plunder. That is what you are, Princess. Plunder. Treasure. Goods we split amongst ourselves. The choice is yours. I know my cousin well—”

“Bloodsinger is—”

“My king and my blood,” he told me. “I assure you, if you insult him, he will insult you in turn by granting our desires. Who knows, you might find the crew chambers more . . . diverting than the king’s.”

Acid burned my stomach. “You’re all wretched.”

“Yes, we are.” He didn’t even attempt to argue the point, and pulled out an odd device that ticked like one of the large bell towers with clock faces back home. I’d never seen such a miniature clock before. Outside city walls, my folk used the sun and instinct to tell the time of day. One more quick glance, and Tait closed his tiny clock. “You have half a chime.”

“A chime? What the hells is a chime? A toll? A clock toll?”

He shrugged. “A chime is a chime.”

I looked to the woman. She held up the skirt as though she’d missed the venom in Tait’s voice.

“Fine.” I blew out a long breath. “Go, and I will dress.”

Seemingly satisfied, Tait dipped his head and abandoned the room.

Once he was gone, the woman chuckled. “Don’t think Tait was lying to frighten you. It’s our law aboard the king’s ship. Whatever we acquire while sailing is split amongst the crew. Only the king himself may take precedence in a claim.” Near the clay basin, she laid out a linen cloth from the wardrobe. “You have no control here, so why do you keep spouting off those harsh words?”

“Tell me this,” I said. “Would you move swiftly when you know only your own death awaits at the end? Bloodsinger told me I am to suffer. I have no desire to run toward it.”

She considered my words for a pause, then dipped her chin, a pensive expression to her countenance. “I suppose you have a point.”

Ridiculous, but there was a moment where I’d hoped she might negate my claim that her king planned to torture me.

Hells, it was time to release the girlish fantasy that I meant anything other than a foe to the Ever King. The look in his eyes when I’d read to him through the bars of his cell, the vulnerability I thought I saw, never existed. He was nothing but a monster in the tides.

“I cannot wash without water,” I said again.

The woman waved the words away and placed her hand in the clay bowl. Eyes closed, she began to sing.

A soft, melancholy song with words I did not understand. “Vatn till mín, safna saman.”