Page 94 of The Ever King

A lord. Younger than I’d expect. Dressed in a blue tunic threaded in gold and polished boots. He stood straight and proud like a noble. I clung tighter to Celine’s arm. Erik hadn’t wanted me to cross paths with any of the lords, but Gavyn wasn’t looking at me. He was locked on Celine.

His brow furrowed. “Tidecaller. Why are you here?”

“I volunteered to watch the king’s . . . mantle.” She paused a moment before going on. “We breasts stick together.”

Gavyn flicked his confusion to me, then back to Celine. “Keep your head down.”

“And you, My Lord.”

I watched him storm away without a word. Celine tugged on my arm, urging me forward.

“Who was that?” I asked, halfway down the opposite corridor.

“Lord Gavyn.”

“Why did it look like you both were going to . . . wait—are you lovers?”

“I think I just vomited in my mouth.” She glared at me, but less out of anger and more like she was trying to determine if I truly could be trustworthy.

“Celine, what is it?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Well, the fact that you asked makes me think you might want to.” Angry heat prickled up the back of my neck. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

“I don’t understand you. You’re supposed to be a bitch and I should want to pull your hair out.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” The secrets she kept seemed ready to split Celine down the middle. Her body was tense, and it struck me—she had no one, the same as me. I took her hand. “You are the only person other than the king who really speaks to me. At the very least just assure me Gavyn isn’t hurting you.”

After a moment, her shoulders slumped. “Gavyn is my brother.”

“Your brother? But . . . he’s one of the house lords and you’re—”

“A nobody on the Ever King’s ship?”

“The ranks do seem uneven.”

“It’s the way it needs to be.”

The stun on Gavyn’s face at the sight of her made a bit more sense. “He was uneasy about you being here, and you said yourself you never come to the feasts. Why?”

“Because no one knows what I am to him. It must be this way.” Her hand went to the scar on her neck, rubbing the puckered flesh. “If anyone discovered my true name, it could get both of us killed.”

“Your true name?” My eyes widened. “You are a siren, aren’t you? Why is it secret? Why do you claim the House of Tides when your voice is from the House of Mists?”

“Because it wascutout,” Celine gritted through her teeth. In the next breath, she clapped a hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes. “Don’t . . . don’t say anything.”

“Celine.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I won’t say a word, but how can your voice be cut out?”

Her chin quivered. “Not my voice, my song. The siren’s call is kept here.” She patted the scar. “It can be removed. Painfully.”

Bleeding hells. “But you still have a song.”

She lifted her eyes, a tear on her cheek. “Most sea folk have a connection to the water. I had help, but I practiced my call to the tides. Eventually they answered, but it is not my natural gift. I was renamed Tidecaller and forgot the past. Please, you cannot say anything. You don’t understand how the mere breath in my lungs is treasonous.”

“But why?”

“I told you, sometimes females are expendable in the Ever.”