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As soon as she’d seen his eye color, Ahnna had known who James was, but there’d been no chance to tell Aren, and she certainly hadn’t expected her brother to make such an ass of himself.

“Aren.” Lara’s voice was reproving, but he only said, “William couldn’t be bothered to come himself?”

James inclined his head. “No insult was intended, Your Grace. As we’ve just witnessed, the seas are fraught with danger, and tension between Harendell and Amarid is high. Her Grace, Queen Alexandra, was loath to risk the heir to the throne when so many would be glad to see him dead.”

So the opinions of William’s character had not been off the mark, after all. The missive had said it would be him coming to retrieve her, but even so, Ahnna felt like an idiot for having mistaken James for William.

“If the seas are so dangerous, perhaps I should not be risking my sister,” Aren said. “Ahnna is, for the time being, the heir to Ithicana’s throne.”

Ahnna bit the insides of her cheeks, because it had been Ithicana who’d requested that steps be taken toward a wedding, not Harendell. Yet instead of pointing that out, James only said, “I defer to your judgment, Your Grace. If you deem the risk too great, Harendell would gladly defer the princess’s arrival to a later—”

“I will leave for Harendell now,” Ahnna interrupted. “Amarid spent a great deal of resources on this attack, and I doubt they’ll make another attempt with our guard up. Travel now is as safe as it will ever be, and”—she glanced over her shoulder at clouds growing in the east—“it looks as though a storm is brewing, so we should not linger.”

Aren glanced east, started to scoff at what was clearly only a small squall, then fell silent as their eyes locked.

I need you to trust me, she silently willed her brother. Ithicana needs this.

I need this.

His jaw tightened, and he appeared ready to argue, but Lara rested a hand on his arm. As always, he conceded to her influence. Silence stretched, then Aren said, “There is no safe time. The seas are always dangerous, and delaying will only give Amarid the time to organize another attack.” He turned to the soldiers lining the pier. “Get this mess cleared up and their ship tied off. Move!”

The Northwatch guard rushed to obey, and James said, “I will need time to collect the bodies of the fallen, Your Grace. They were good men, and they deserve to have their remains returned to their families.”

Jor looked over the side of the pier, and he gave a shake of his head.

Aren sighed. “There will be little to retrieve, I’m afraid. The sharks move quickly and without mercy when there is blood in our waters.”

James’s expression didn’t change, but as he said, “Understood,” Ahnna saw the flash of grief in his eyes. Pain over the loss of soldiers and crew that she rarely witnessed in experienced commanders. Which, given what she knew from her research on the royal family, he most certainly was.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For the loss of your men. We should have been better prepared.”

Amber eyes locked on hers. They were the color of expensive whiskey, the sun illuminating flecks of gold in them, the very outer rim an inky black. Cardiffian eyes, if she’d ever seen them, and Ahnna shivered, because the people of the northern kingdom were said to cast spells, many of their women known to be witches.

“My thanks, Your Highness.” His voice was different than it had been before he’d known her identity. Bland and nearly inflectionless. She didn’t like it. “However, we brought the conflict with Amarid to your shores, so the fault in security lies with us.”

“We can spend all day arguing over who is at fault, but the results are the same,” Aren snapped, showing no signs of coming to terms with William’s absence, though Ahnna wasn’t entirely certain why it mattered. “Good soldiers dead and a pier rendered half unusable with debris that will take days to clear. Better to press forward than look back. If you’ll excuse me, I intend to do just that.” He strode off, shouting orders.

“Ithicana still bears fresh scars from war,” Lara said, hand curving over her stomach as she spoke, the exertion so late in pregnancy showing its toll in the pallor of her face. “To have violence rear on our shores so soon is not what we hoped for with this alliance, Your Highness. Or do you prefer Major General?”

Ahnna hadn’t focused her recent research on James, though she knew he was the illegitimate son of Edward and a Cardiffian woman, and that Edward had formally acknowledged him as his son and prince. Knew that he was a fighter of some renown who was often sent where conflict was thickest due to his prowess on the field. She’d not dug much deeper because James had felt less important. Her interest had been in the king and queen and, most of all, the prince she was supposed to marry. But major general was very nearly at the top of Harendell’s incredibly complicated military hierarchy. Higher than William, who held only the rank of captain, his title primarily honorific.

“Whatever your preference, Your Grace. I serve the crown in both capacities.” James gave Lara a small smile, obviously as enraptured with her as every other man who ever saw her given the way the tension on his face faded. Ahnna struggled not to roll her eyes as he said, “I am deeply sorry for this distressing turn of events.”

A flicker of emotion that Ahnna didn’t care to name filled her chest, but she bit down on it, because she knew that when it came to the queen, nothing she felt was ever considered reasonable.

Lara stepped in front of her, forcing Ahnna to take a half step back. “The men who infiltrated your crew, were they unfamiliar to you? Or did Amarid buy off men who’d long been in service?”

“The latter, I’m afraid,” James answered. “All handpicked. I won’t offend Ithicana’s spy network by suggesting that it is not an ongoing problem, though we have the same leverage in Amarid.”

A spy network that Lara now ran.

Lara made a humming noise of agreement. “We should vet the sailors of the other ship before you depart. Check them for weapons they should not have so as to be sure Ahnna is safe on her journey. Our spies may have information you don’t, so we’ll check your crew before Ahnna boards.”

Lara was speaking as though Ahnna weren’t standing right behind her. As though she couldn’t defend herself, if needed. As though she were a child who needed to be coddled and protected rather than the woman who’d led Ithicana through most of the war in Aren’s absence.

Anger swelled in her chest, and Ahnna snapped, “It’s his goddamned ship, Lara. If he wants your assistance, he’ll ask.”

James’s eyes flicked between them, but he said nothing as Lara stiffened, then stepped to one side. “I’m only trying to ensure your safety, Ahnna. You’re important to us.”

The words were genuine—Ahnna knew that—but as she looked into Lara’s impossibly beautiful face, all she saw was the wolf in sheep’s clothing from whom she’d failed to protect Ithicana. The ingénue who’d swanned her way into everyone’s hearts with her charm, wit, and strategically deployed bravery, then left the door open for Silas Veliant to do his worst. Ahnna knew that Lara had turned on her father by the time the invasion had occurred. That she hadn’t wanted it to happen. But intentions didn’t bring back the thousands of Ithicanians who had died as a result of the invasion, and it certainly didn’t erase the nightmares of dead families and dead children that walked through Ahnna’s mind every night.

You were supposed to protect them! her conscience screamed. You were supposed to keep them safe!

“I assume the princess will have an Ithicanian escort, Your Grace?” James asked. “Hand-selected to ensure her safety?”

“Of course,” Lara replied. “Our finest—”

At that moment, singing echoed down the pier.

Ahnna’s cousin Taryn, along with Lara’s half sister Bronwyn, were staggering, arm in arm, toward them, singing a bawdy song about a sailor marooned on an island with a goat. Both women were clearly drunk out of their wits. Which was perhaps no shock, for they were long overdue at Northwatch after an excursion to one of the other islands. They stumbled to a stop, looking around, and Bronwyn shouted, “Holy shit, Aren! I thought you said that Harendellian ceremonies were dull!”

Aren broke off what he was doing to stare at both women, then scrubbed an irritated hand through his hair and went back to barking orders.

“Our finest warriors,” Lara murmured. “The most loyal men and women Ithicana has to offer.”

Lies.

Taryn was coming with Ahnna because she needed to get away from Ithicana as much as Ahnna did, and Bronwyn…Well, Bronwyn was coming because she felt like it. Which was fine with Ahnna, because Bronwyn was the first Maridrinian she’d met whom she actually liked. Bronwyn could lie through her teeth but never ever did. Most found her honesty a fault, but Ahnna relished it. “My cousin Taryn Kertell, as well as Princess Bronwyn Veliant, will be accompanying me.”

James inclined his head to Bronwyn and Taryn, the picture of Harendellian courtesy, and as she stared at his chiseled profile, Ahnna was struck with the memory of that face between her legs as she’d set explosives not half an hour ago. Her cheeks warmed, and she silently prayed that he’d never mention it to his brother.

“You’re not William,” Bronwyn said, peering up at James. “You don’t build muscles like those dueling with a rapier for the entertainment of the court. Which means you are James.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Who said I was disappointed?” Bronwyn said with a wink, then gestured to the ship. “That our boat?”

“The Victoria, my lady. The servants will be working to make up appropriate quarters, as I’m afraid the ship that—”

“I’m sure it’s a great story. Let’s save it for when we’re at sea,” Bronwyn interrupted. “You coming, Ahnna?”

Ahnna looked to her brother, who was standing at the edge of the pier, gesturing angrily at the sunken ship. She waited, hoping he’d look up. That he’d look back. That she, for once, would be his priority. Aren only carried on down the pier, gesturing at the merchant vessels on the horizon waiting to make port.

“Aren will wish to say goodbye to you before you board,” Lara said. “He’s only—”

“We already said our goodbyes.”

“You two need to resolve your differences,” Lara said under her breath, then she shook her head. “I’ll see that your things are brought aboard. Bronwyn, sober up. This isn’t a holiday.”

Bronwyn gave a jaunty salute, but Taryn muttered, “Fuck off, Lara,” before striding toward the ship. Bronwyn winced, then said, “Will be good for her to get away to somewhere with no Maridrinians.”

Ahnna wasn’t entirely certain whether Bronwyn was speaking about her or Taryn. Possibly both, and Ahnna didn’t disagree. If she never saw another Maridrinian again, it would be too soon.

Lara’s face was tight with frustration. “You’re Maridrinian, Bron.”

Bronwyn only lifted one shoulder. “Yes. But I didn’t lie to her face for months. Not everyone is going to love you, sister mine. That’s just a fact you must learn to accept.” She bent down and kissed Lara’s stomach before whispering, “But everyone loves you, little one.” Then Bronwyn linked her arm through James’s. “You have anything to drink on your boat, Your Highness?”

“Ship.” He cast a backward glance at Ahnna, amber eyes flicking between her and Lara before he said, “At your leisure, Your Highness. We sail when you are ready.”

Ahnna watched Bronwyn lead him away, wanting to chase after them but knowing that she had to say something to Lara, who was staring at bits of rubble lying on the pier between them. “I hope it goes well, Lara.” Blue eyes lifted to meet hers. “Truly. I look forward to learning the name of my niece or nephew. Take care of Aren, because we both know he won’t take care of himself.” Hesitating, she added, “I’ll do what needs doing. Ithicana will have Harendell’s support, but more important, it will have its trade and gold so that you can rebuild Ithicana and make it strong again. I swear it.”

Not giving Ithicana’s queen a chance to respond, Ahnna started toward the ship. The gangplank was in place, and she made her way up it to find a hand reaching out to her. Her eyes shot up to find James waiting for her, arm outstretched. This sort of courtesy was unfamiliar to her: Ithicanians offered each other aid when needed, not out of courtesy, and she stood frozen for a heartbeat before taking it.

His hand was warm, his palm callused. No surprise, given he could clearly fight, though what did shock her was how much larger his hand was than her own. At over six feet in height, little about Ahnna was small other than her breasts, a sore spot in her vanity, and few men other than her brother made Ahnna feel short.

But James did.

“You might have mentioned your identity,” he said. “I would have behaved differently, had I known. Apologies for my conduct.”

“If you’d behaved differently, we’d probably be dead,” she said. “But next time, I’ll be sure to inform the sharks to give us time for proper introductions.”

It was meant to be a joke, but James didn’t laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone do what you did with that shark. Thrice your size, yet it gave way to you. Why?”

Ahnna hesitated, then said, “By making her believe I’m not prey.”

Silence stretched.

“What did it…did she think you were?”

The air felt suddenly charged, the question deeper than the words suggested, and Ahnna’s heart whispered, I don’t know anymore. Aloud, she said, “Jump overboard and ask.”

Again, he didn’t laugh, only looked down at her with an expression that made Ahnna feel like more than she was.

Her heart was thundering, the humid air suddenly too thick to breathe, but Ahnna didn’t know how to cut the tension. Well, she knew how connections were built when people fought side by side, cheating death, but he was a stranger. More than that, James was an outsider. Which meant keeping her walls up.

Realizing she was still holding his hand, Ahnna dropped it and took a step back, suddenly aware that she was sodden and barefoot, her undershirt clinging to her breasts, which probably explained why all the sailors were staring at her. “I should find dry clothes. I’m sure you wish to do the same.”

He drew in a sharp breath, then shook his head. “Of course. Apologies.”

He gestured to a young woman who stood with a lowered head, her light-brown hair twisted into a tidy knot at the back of her head. “Hazel has served my family’s household for many years, and I will leave you in her capable hands while I see to getting the ship under way. If there is any comfort you find lacking, please give it voice. We serve at your pleasure.” He bowed slightly. “If it pleases you, I would offer you, and your ladies, my company for dinner.”

“Uh…” She hunted for words, for while her mother had foisted endless lessons in Harendellian etiquette upon Ahnna, that had been a lifetime ago. “It would be our pleasure to join you. Thank you.”

“I look forward to it.” James bowed again, then disappeared down the corridor.

“This way, my lady,” Hazel said, curtsying. “We must get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a chill.”

Ahnna bit down on a snort of amusement, because remaining dry in Ithicana was borderline impossible. The Harendellians are different, she reminded herself. They aren’t like you. They haven’t had to fight to survive every goddamned day of their lives.

Following the maid into the stateroom, she glanced around the small room, which showed signs of having been recently vacated by its prior occupant. There was a sock in one corner and a small portrait of a woman nailed to the wall, both of which Hazel discreetly tucked into the pockets of her skirts. “I’ll see after your trunks, my lady, as well as bring you warm wash water.” She bobbed another curtsy. “This was not how we wished to welcome you, Princess. Your rooms in the other ship were beautifully appointed, and…” Tears welled in the young woman’s gray eyes, and she broke off, her slender body shaking.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ahnna said, suspecting that Hazel had known many of the servants on the other vessel and that it had been some twist of luck that had her serving on this ship. No doubt the maid who’d been intended to serve Ahnna was dead.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Hazel blinked her tears away. “We are so delighted to have you come to Harendell, and I hope you’ll not judge us harshly on your accommodations, for they are not what was intended. The Victoria is a naval vessel.”

Ahnna had spent most of her life in accommodations far more uncomfortable than these, for above all else, she was a soldier, but instinct told her that saying as much would not make Hazel feel better. So instead, she said, “I understand. Thank you.”

Hazel curtsied, then departed, leaving Ahnna alone in the stateroom. Toying with the empty sheath of the knife she’d lost, Ahnna went to the window to look out, but her view was away from the pier, so all she could see were merchant vessels waiting for Northwatch’s signal to make port. Every minute that these piers stood empty was costing Ithicana gold it could not afford, and part of her wanted to go onto the deck and start urging the Harendellians to depart even as part of her hoped that they’d never set sail. That this ship, a small taste of the changes she was about to face, would be the farthest she ever got from her home.

She struggled to contain the homesickness that rose in her chest. Ahnna had spent a large portion of her life being prepared for this moment. Endless lessons from spies who’d spent time in Edward’s court, teaching her their customs, manners, and practices. However, that had been under her mother’s reign. Once Aren had become king and made Ahnna commander of Southwatch, there’d been no time in her schedule for dancing lessons or to practice her needlework, because she’d been consumed with protecting the most dangerous location in all of Ithicana. Then the invasion had happened. Then the collision of Maridrina and Valcotta. And keeping up with Harendell’s politics and gossip had felt like such a distant concern. Much of the knowledge remained instilled in her, but the emotional preparation she’d undergone seemed to have disappeared entirely.

Or perhaps she’d only ever fooled herself that it was there at all.

A knock sounded on the door, and Hazel entered. “Your trunk, my lady,” she said. “I’ll go in search of the others. They only had the one.”

“There is only one,” Ahnna said as a sailor carried in her small trunk, setting it down and departing. “I only have…” She trailed off, about to have said that she only had a few belongings. Except that would imply that Ithicana was without means, and kingdoms without means were seen as weak, which was the last thing Aren needed Harendell to believe. “I prefer to travel light and acquire what I need when I arrive.”

Hazel looked up from inspecting the contents of Ahnna’s small trunk, which was mostly weapons, a few items of sentimental value, and tunics and trousers she’d worn all her life. “We shall have a seamstress brought straightaway, my lady. Day dresses and evening dresses, six of each to start, though you’ll need ball gowns once we reach Verwyrd, for you are certain to be the toast of the season in the Sky Palace. An Ithicanian princess…Truly, your dance card will always be full.”

Ahnna’s stomach twisted as she considered the cost of such dresses. Aren had accounts in her name with the Harendellian banks that she could draw upon, but she was loath to spend the funds on dresses given that most of Lara’s jewelry had been sold to pay for food for Ithicanian civilians. Never mind the prospect of having to wear them while executing complicated dance steps that she hadn’t practiced in years, all under the eye of the most judgmental people in the known world.

“It will be quiet dinners during your journey,” Hazel said, holding up one of the tunics. “There are no other ladies aboard besides your own, who are family, and His Highness is soon to be family as well, which suggests less formal attire is…is…appropriate.”

Hazel’s tone suggested anything but.

Ahnna plucked the tunic out of the woman’s hands, turning her back before removing her damp undershirt and donning the dry garment. Trousers followed, her spare boots forming to her feet as she peered into the tiny mirror on the wall, inspecting the scabbed-over cut on her temple. Warm water arrived, and she allowed Hazel to wipe away the blood smeared on her face, then apply a bit of salve to the cut.

Ahnna expected a knock to sound on the door. For a servant to call through the wood that Aren was on decks. That he’d come to find her. That he wouldn’t let her go without saying goodbye.

But the only noises were of the crew making ready to leave, familiar shouts and orders, for ships were much the same no matter the nation they hailed from.

He’ll come, she told herself. He’ll come say goodbye. Or at least, come to give you orders.

Hazel departed to dispose of the dirty wash water, and Ahnna sat on the bunk.

Waiting.

A knock sounded on the door, too rough to be Hazel. Ahnna leapt to her feet, a smile growing on her face because she’d been wrong to doubt him. Flinging open the door, she said, “Figure out how you’re going to—”

She broke off because it wasn’t Aren standing in the opening.

It was Jor.

“I’m coming with you,” the old soldier said, resting his scarred hands on the doorframe. “You need someone you can trust. Someone who knows what’s what about these northern vipers. They’re all smiles to your face and knives to the back, the Harendellians. Can’t stand the fuckers. Also, your cousin is a drunk, and Bronwyn is going to be busy keeping her from falling off the side of the ship.”

Ahnna stared at him as the ship bobbed beneath them, moving away from the pier.

He isn’t coming.

The realization must have shown in her eyes, because Jor’s weathered face softened. “I know he’s left you behind a thousand times, Ahnna, but this is the first time you’ve left him. Aren’s more rattled about you leaving than he cares to admit, which means he’s being a right prick about it. You know how he is when he’s upset.”

Ahnna was already moving.

Why hadn’t she made the effort to say goodbye? Why hadn’t she sought him out? She cursed her stubbornness because this wasn’t how she wanted to leave things with her twin.

Out on the deck, she dodged sailors, making her way to the side of the ship.

Please be there.

Her hands closed on the railing, eyes searching the Ithicanians watching the ship move back, the distance between the vessel and Northwatch growing.

Aren wasn’t there.

Only Lara stood on the end of the pier, the wind catching at her silken skirts, long blond hair drifting out behind her. Ithicana’s queen lifted her hand, their eyes locked as the ship slowly rotated, the sails rising. Watching each other as Ithicana slowly disappeared in the Harendellian ship’s wake.