Page 5

Abandoning Ahnna to Hazel, James went in search of Georgie’s quarters. There was little time, the Ithicanians eager to have their pier cleared so that they could return to the business of trade, which meant he needed to get this vessel under way.

“Make ready,” he said to Drake as the captain fell in alongside him. “I’ll be back on decks shortly.”

Opening the door to Georgie’s cabin, James slammed it shut behind him, letting out the string of curses he’d been holding in check, half of which were directed at Aren fucking Kertell.

“I see Ithicana’s king made an impression,” Georgie said. “The men told me what he said. Did he truly believe the queen would allow Will to venture into Ithicana’s waters?”

Instead of answering, James wrenched off one of the boots he’d taken from Georgie when he’d boarded. “Why are your feet so goddamned small?” He threw it at Georgie, who was lounging barefoot on his bunk.

His best friend caught the boot, laughing. “Not all of us are graced with flippers for feet, Jamie. Though I suppose we should all be grateful, given that they allowed you to outswim Ithicana’s man-eaters.”

“My survival had nothing to do with luck.” He leaned against the door. “And everything to do with Ithicana’s princess.”

“Is she what you expected?”

They’d known little about her beyond Ahnna’s age, that she was the king’s twin sister, and that she’d held the rank of commander of Southwatch Island. The first contact they’d ever had with her was when she’d appealed to his father for support against the Maridrinians, but she’d worn a mask to the brief meeting she’d had with him. No spies had ever seen her face. No portrait had ever been painted. No one but his father had so much as spoken toher.

Ahnna Kertell was an enigma.

“I hadn’t considered what she might be like,” James finally said. The image of her in the water with her hand outstretched to the shark again filled his mind’s eye, no less vivid than it had been in the moment. Dangerous, but also…His mind hunted for a word, but nothing quite suited Ahnna Kertell’s wild beauty.

Georgie was silent for a long moment, then he said, “I never really thought of the Ithicanians as human, always wearing those masks and refusing to speak beyond what needed to be said. I half thought, and I don’t think I’m alone in this, that they would be monstrous beneath the masks. To see that they are flesh and blood, same as us, was almost a shock.”

James blinked, trying to clear away the image of Ahnna, but all he could see was her. A woman who would fight until the bitter end, screaming defiance until her last breath.

“Almost would have been better if she was monstrous,” Georgie said, tugging at his long hair. “Then there’d be novelty to her. Bloody damn, Jamie, Will’s going to hate everything about that woman, not the least of which that she’s huge. Taller than me, which means she’ll be taller than him, and while she was a beauty at one point, that scar…” His friend shook his head. “Will’s going to be an unrepentant ass about having to marry her. He likes a certain type, and Ahnna Kertell could not be further from it.”

James frowned, disagreeing almost viscerally with his friend’s criticism, but Georgie’s prediction of Will’s reaction was spot-on. William liked girls who made him feel better about himself, and Ahnna would only bring into stark relief his brother’s inadequacies, real and imagined. “Will’s tastes are irrelevant. This treaty was signed by our father, and he always holds to his word. If he has to drag Will down the aisle and pin him to the ground before the priest to make the wedding happen, he’ll do it.”

James knew this was the case, because it was his father who’d made him set sail to retrieve Ahnna despite James’s every protest that the betrothal should be broken.

“I wouldn’t bet against you on that,” Georgie said. “And in the end, it’s of no matter. Will can wed her, get her with child, then send her to stay with your aunt at Hemsford, where she’ll be out of sight and out of mind until he needs her to produce a spare. She’ll likely be happier for it. Did you see she was wearing trousers? Trousers! My God, Jamie, she’s going to be eaten alive at court.”

Instinctively, James snapped, “She’s a soldier, not some vapid courtier, and she saved my ass from being blown up and from being eaten alive, so show her some respect.”

Georgie sat up straight, setting his boot on the floor as he eyed James. “I don’t disrespect her, Jamie. Truly. I just feel bad for the woman. Sending her to marry Will is a cruelty. Like capturing a wild animal and demanding she play at being a pet. Either she’ll lash out or her spirit will die, but never will she be tamed. Might be better for all involved if she begs her brother to renegotiate with your father. For better trade terms for the use of Ithicana’s bridge, I’m sure all of Harendell will be happy to forgo an Ithicanian bride.”

Except better trade terms would mean more goods flowing south, and everything James had worked for demanded that they flow north to Cardiff. He rubbed at his temple, feeling a headache coming on. “None of this is within our power to influence, and we’ve more pressing matters.”

“Such as your own attire?”

“It’s disrespectful to engage in diplomatic relations in bare feet.” Aren Kertell clearly had little enough respect for him, and looking like a drowned rat hadn’t improved the situation. “I need something to wear to dinner.”

“I think I’ve found a solution.” Georgie rose from his bunk, retrieving a pair of well-worn boots from beneath. “No amount of polish is going to make these shine, but they should fit. Clothes were more of a challenge. For one, you are obnoxiously tall, and two, most of our men rarely avail themselves of laundresses. Sodden trousers are better than ill-fitting or malodorous garments, though I’ve set Hazel the task of sewing you some replacements. Here.” He held out a starched shirt. “Best I could manage, given the circumstances.”

“It will do.” James took the shirt, well aware that they were skirting the true pressing matters at hand, namely, the list of casualties sitting next to the washstand. An entire ship beneath the sea, dozens of men lost, and all as a result of an act of visible aggression by Amarid. And a surprising act in that James had been the apparent target. His name was much cursed in Amarid, given his service in the border wars, but other than vengeance, there was little to be gained in killing him. He was the king’s bastard, heir to nothing, all of his power predicated on his family’s goodwill. And this had been a strike that would have taken months of planning and endless resources.

He was not worth it. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Yet worth it or not, there was no denying that Amarid had tried not only to kill him, but to pin his death on Ithicana, which meant their motivations required deeper scrutiny than he currently had time to give.

Pulling off his shirt, James winced at the already purpling bruises on his torso, then put on the clean garment, eyes running down the list as he fastened the buttons.

Most of the names were familiar to him, some close enough to be called friends, but he could not allow himself time to grieve. That would come later, when he notified their families of their deaths. He’d made the choice to put nearly all his officers and soldiers on the Victoria so that his first meeting with the Ithicanians would not have all of them looking over his shoulder, and James wasn’t certain whether that had saved lives or cost them. Because the men he’d brought with him were all capable fighters, and with them, he might have done better against the mutinying crew.

“You think war is on the horizon?” Georgie asked, straightening his own attire. “This attack can’t go unanswered.”

“War has been on the horizon for two decades.” James folded the page, shoving it into a pocket of his still-damp trousers. “We’ve flirted with it as much as Amarid, but this…This was bold. And on the surface, foolish, given that we have an army double the size of Katarina’s, and her navy has not recovered from the losses it took when Silas attacked Eranahl. Yet Katarina is no fool, which makes me think there is more at play here than can be seen on the surface.”

There were few alive as clever as Queen Katarina of Amarid.

“Will Ithicana deny them access to the bridge?”

“Not according to Ahnna.” James tucked in the shirt and refastened his belt. He glared at his image in the mirror. “This is a mess.”

“Just as well. You hate speeches, but you like to fight.” Georgie clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go get the farewells over with. Be careful not to lift anything heavy, or you’re going to burst the shoulder seams on your shirt.”

James would give a thousand speeches if it would bring back the men who’d died, but he only nodded. “I need your sword. Mine is at the bottom of the Tempest Seas.”

Georgie sighed, then extracted his own and handed it over, hilt-first. “I want it back.”

Hefting the blade, which was a Cavendish family heirloom, James grinned at his friend. “We’ll see. I’ve always liked the weight of it.”

Together, they strode back on decks, which were thick with activity as the crew loaded trunks belonging to the passengers, along with supplies to make up for what had been lost on the other vessel. Ahnna was nowhere in sight, but James marked Hazel escorting one of the crew, who was carrying a small trunk, in the direction of the princess’s stateroom.

Descending the gangway, James approached Ithicana’s monarchs, who stood waiting, a group of hardened soldiers behind them.

“Your Majesties,” he said, bowing low. “By your leave, we will depart.”

Aren’s hazel eyes skipped past James, searching the decks, then he huffed out an irritated breath that sounded a great deal like, Have it your way, Ahnna, then added in a tone devoid of emotion, “Deliver my sister safely to Verwyrd.”

“Her comfort and well-being are my utmost priorities, Your Grace,” James said. “The princess will be shown every courtesy.”

“Good. Safe travels.” Aren turned on his heel and strode up the pier, half the guard following him and the rest remaining with their queen.

Lara watched her husband with an unreadable expression, then turned her distinct Veliant eyes on James. Though she was head and shoulders shorter than him, slender, and very pregnant, there was something about Ithicana’s queen that screamed danger, and the desire to rest a hand on the hilt of his borrowed sword tested his willpower.

“Ahnna kept Ithicana alive despite everything my father threw at her,” she said. “No one in the kingdom is more beloved, but our loss is Harendell’s gain. I hope the ties of marriage will bring our nations close, and that both our peoples will reap the benefits of our alliance.”

James inclined his head, lying through his teeth as he said, “I hope for this as well, Your Grace.” He hesitated, then added, “Amarid is up to something. If your spies discover anything, we’d appreciate it if you shared what you’ve learned.”

All the queen said in answer was, “Safe travels.”

Taking three steps back, James then turned and walked up the gangplank, joining the captain on the quarterdeck as the man gave the order to depart, Georgie remaining on the main deck to give orders to the soldiers on watch.

The ship was well away from the pier when Ahnna appeared. Weaving around the crew and soldiers, she went to the rail, staring back at Northwatch. Queen Lara lifted a hand in goodbye, but Ahnna did not so much as twitch in response. Bad blood between them, though clearly it was one-sided, which was understandable. Gathering information from Ithicana was always a test of Harendell’s spies, but all knew Lara Veliant’s role in the Maridrinian invasion. Just as all knew her part in ending it. Yet ending it had not brought the thousands killed by the Maridrinians back to life, and while Aren had forgiven his wife’s sins, it appeared that Ahnna had not. Though at the cost of her relationship with her own twin brother.

Being not of a forgiving nature himself, James respected Ahnna’s defiance even as he cursed it, because in the face of that sort of stubbornness, what hope did he have in convincing her to go back?