Page 6

Ahnna remained at the rail of the ship as the sun slipped low in the sky, pulling her spirits with her as they left Ithicana’s waters.

As she left her home forever.

The roughest storm wouldn’t make her seasick, but the anxiety building in her stomach had her ready to spill her guts overboard.

A cough broke her reverie, and Jor came up next to her, resting his elbows on the railing. “The captain is hosting dinner in his quarters,” he said. “They’re waiting on you.”

A dinner that was sure to include every officer on the ship, as well as James, which meant it would be the first step she’d take in securing their favor, but all Ahnna wanted to do was watch the waves.

“Did you have a look around?” she asked Jor. “Thoughts?”

“Good ship. Solid crew. Experienced soldiers.” Jor pulled the toothpick he’d been chewing out of his mouth. “Though they’re all rattled. Harendell and Amarid normally gnash teeth with political posturing, embargoes, and discreet assassinations. This is an unexpected escalation, and it has them all worried that worse is to come. If there are infiltrators aboard, I couldn’t pick them out at first blush. Even so, you’ll want to be on your guard. You armed?”

“Always.”

“Thatta girl.”

Setting aside her emotions, she asked, “Why would Amarid put so much effort into killing James?”

“He’s apparently got quite the body count,” Jor answered. “Until recently, he’s spent most of his time on the Amaridian border. They hate him.”

“I don’t debate that. Except why not just assassinate him? Why go through all this cost and effort to frame Ithicana?”

“To ruin the alliance?”

Ahnna made a face. “Maybe.”

Jor hesitated, then said, “Rumor has it that Edward favors him over William. Might be that Amarid hoped to avoid Edward’s retaliation by framing Ithicana. Two birds, one stone.”

It made sense. Yet there was something about it that didn’t smell right to her. Namely, what possible reason did Ithicana have for murdering James and destroying its relationship with Harendell?

Silence stretched between them, but it felt tense rather than comfortable. Jor didn’t want to be here, she knew that. His place was at Aren’s side, especially now, and regret pooled in her stomach that she hadn’t refused to allow him to come with her.

“We’ll need to organize a schedule for watch,” she said to break the tension. “Discreet, so they don’t take offense. Among the four of us, we should be fine.”

Drunken laughter abruptly spilled across the deck, and Ahnna winced as she recognized Taryn’s voice.

“Three of us,” Jor said. “Two, really, because Bronwyn will have her hands full, so it’s just you and me, girlie.” He shook his head. “I love Taryn like a daughter, Ahnna, but she was a shitty choice to bring for your guard. If she’s not half in the bottle, she’s barely able to drag herself out of bed, and while Bronwyn keeps her spirits up, Taryn doesn’t see too far beyond her own storm clouds.”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t bring her to watch my back.”

Jor tossed his toothpick into the waves. “Then why is she here? Other than to make a fool out of Ithicana? Bronwyn’s a Veliant, so not only is she not our problem but the Magpie’s training will ensure she doesn’t say or do anything without thought. But Taryn will pour Prince James’s fancy wine down her throat until she’s passed out on the deck, all while spewing information that we’d rather the Harendellians not be aware of.” He lowered his voice even further. “The last thing Ithicana needs is our largest ally finding out just how weak we are. And how badly we need them. Allies can become enemies right quick if there is something as valuable as the bridge to be gained.”

Ahnna’s stomach tightened, the reminder not something she needed. “Because she’s my cousin, and she’s not well. I need to take care of her.”

“There are other ways. Better ways. Certainly ways that wouldn’t put her antics in front of King Eddie’s bastard!”

“I need to keep watch over her.”

“Why? Because she validates the venom that spews from your lips about Lara?”

Ahnna flinched, it striking her that Jor’s jabs hurt as much now as they had when she’d been a girl. More so because he was taking the side of the outsider. “No,” she said reluctantly. “It’s because Taryn was planning to kill her.”

Silence.

“After Aren declared Lara would remain queen, Taryn got drunk. I was dragging her back to her room, and she said that if she’d known Aren would forgive Lara, she’d have killed her on Gamire. I think she’s been waiting for the baby to be born before she tries.” Her eyes burned. “I know I should’ve told Aren, all right? But I also know what he would’ve done. I’ve lost enough people without losing my cousin.”

“Ahnna…”

“It’s not her fault.” She leveled a finger at him. “Did you even bother to ask her what the Maridrinians did to her during the year she was their prisoner? Do you even care how badly they hurt her?” Not waiting for him to answer, she added, “Not only does Taryn have to carry that hurt in her heart, but she also has to carry the guilt of knowing that she was the one who was supposed to be watching over Lara. That she was the one who was duped, which means that she believes what happened is her fault.”

“We all had the wool pulled over our eyes.”

“Yes, but she thought that Lara and she were close. Friends, even. She trusted her. Liked her.” Digging her nails into her palms to feel the pain, Ahnna added, “More than just liked, I think. To discover her relationship with Lara was all lies and manipulation destroyed Taryn worse than what the Maridrinians did, so I can understand why she wants Lara dead. But I’m also not going to allow it to happen, so that’s why she’s with me. That’s why she’s on my watch. Because only I, and now you, know the danger.”

Jor exhaled a long breath. “I’m too old for this shit. But fine. Fine. We just need to find a way to keep her clear of the courtiers when we arrive.”

“I already have a plan for that,” Ahnna said. “However, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for dinner.”

She crossed the main deck, then climbed the stairs to where the captain’s quarters were located. Above, clouds were thickening. The brisk wind, smelling of rain, caught at her hair. The storm she had noted before their departure was rising, but it seemed they’d skirt up the western edge of it, so she carried onward. The pair of soldiers flanking the doors bowed at her approach, then one of them opened the doors, stepping inside to announce at top volume, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Ahnna of Ithicana.”

All the men at the table rose to their feet, and she stared awkwardly at them until a servant hurried forward to pull out a chair directly across from James. Taryn and Bronwyn had remained seated, but Ahnna noted that while Taryn’s garments were plain Ithicanian garb, Bronwyn wore a Maridrinian gown, her brown hair twisted up into elaborate braids, ruby earrings dangling from her earlobes, and her face bearing subtle cosmetics. Looking every bit the princess she was.

For a moment, Ahnna regretted not putting more effort into her appearance but immediately shoved away the thought. She intended to be forthright and honest to the Harendellians in every way she could, and that meant portraying herself as she was, not disguising herself in a costume so that they would believe her something she was not. Besides, James wore a shirt that was obviously borrowed, the cuffs leaving his wrists bare and the seams looking ready to burst if he lifted anything heavier than a cup. Not a prince consumed with vanity but a soldier who wouldn’t allow vanity to interfere with duty.

Approaching the table, she allowed the servant to push the seat beneath her, none of the men sitting until she was settled.

“We are honored by your presence, Lady Ahnna,” James said. “Allow me to make introductions.” He gestured to the portly man at the far end. “Our captain, Sir John Drake.” His hand moved to a handsome man with long brown hair tied with a ribbon, the medals on his uniform gleaming brightly. “Lieutenant George Cavendish, lord heir to the earldom of Elgin.”

The lieutenant gave her a rakish smile. “A pleasure, Your Highness.”

“Ahnna is fine,” she replied, because no one in Ithicana ever called her by her title.

“Of course, my lady. Please call me Georgie, everyone does.”

“Only if you call me Ahnna.”

His smile grew. “It would be my honor, Lady Ahnna.”

Titles clearly weren’t a battle she was going to win, but the loss was softened by Georgie’s wink.

James carried on around the table, introducing the men, who were all high-ranking officers and lords, their coats heavily decorated with medals, ribbons, and tassels. Many were names she’d heard mentioned in spy reports, and she focused on each of their faces so as to commit them to memory. Important men with power, wealth, and influence, and she’d be wise to earn their favor.

Finishing his introductions, he said, “Lady Taryn was just regaling us with the tribulations of transporting Harendell’s cattle through the bridge to be sold at Southwatch.”

Lady Taryn hiccuped, then exclaimed, “Remember when Aren cracked three ribs and broke his arm during one of the runs, Ahnna? He’s hated cows ever since, though I’m not sure whether it’s because he remembers the pain or because he fell face-first into a pile of shit.” She hiccuped again, trying to cover the sound by taking another mouthful of wine.

The men all chuckled, and Ahnna bit the inside of her cheeks, confident that the amusement was more for her cousin’s drunkenness than for the anecdote. A servant moved to refill Taryn’s glass, but Ahnna reached over to cover the top. “Water.”

Taryn gave her a murderous glare. “No one dictates what I drink, especially you, Ahnna. I’m shocked you’re not on your third bottle by now.”

In truth, Ahnna had not drunk to excess since the night Southwatch had fallen to the Maridrinians and hadn’t been able to stomach the taste of white wine at all, for it brought back too many memories. Of waking in a half-drunk haze to the sound of alarm bells and screams, the fight upon her the moment she’d opened her bedroom door. The jolt of adrenaline that had come from her face being sliced open was the only reason she was still alive.

“Ahnna used to be fun,” Taryn said. “She used to have a sense of humor. Now all she cares about is duty.” She hiccuped. “Though perhaps that will help her fit into Harendell, as you’re all a stiff lot.”

Nothing Taryn said was a lie, but this behavior couldn’t stand. “Taryn”—she stared into her cousin’s eyes, silently trying to convey the importance of the moment—“ please. ”

Her cousin met her gaze for a long time, then her eyes welled with tears. “Apologies. I’ve had too much to drink.” She looked down, unable to hold Ahnna’s eyes any longer. “Excuse me.”

Rising to her feet, Taryn hurried from the room.

“I’ll check on her,” Bronwyn said. “Don’t wait on me.”

The room was silent, and Ahnna stared at the table, uncertain of what to say to remedy the situation. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal Taryn’s trauma to strangers, but the alternative was to allow the poor opinion these men likely had of her to stand.

James spared her by saying, “We were discussing the cattle runs, which are, of course, quite relevant to us. Lady Taryn seemed knowledgeable on the subject.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his amber eyes, which reflected the candlelight, making them glow. Ahnna’s interactions with Cardiffians were limited, and none had eyes quite the vibrant hue of his. For a heartbeat, she felt transfixed. It was said that those from Cardiff had magic, and looking into James’s eyes, she believed it. “Very knowledgeable. Taryn is a respected warrior in Ithicana and served as the king’s personal bodyguard for many years, but what she is famous for is her singing voice.”

Picking up her glass, she took a small sip. “The cattle are always terrified when we first drive them into the bridge. It’s dark and noisy and confined, and they are prone to stampeding, which causes injuries and deaths. We do what we can to keep them calm with animals like goats and donkeys, which are used to the bridge, but I’ve never seen anything work quite so well as when my cousin sang. Her voice would echo up and down the bridge, and by some trick of the acoustics, it drowned out the howling of the wind. The clatter of hooves. Like magic. The cows followed her through the bridge, mild as milk, arriving at Southwatch without a single injury.”

“Walking calmly to slaughter!” Georgie lifted his cup. “To cattle! On whose simple minds Harendell makes its fortune!”

“To cattle.” Ahnna lifted her glass. “And to Harendell running even more of them through the bridge in the coming season.”

All the other men echoed her words, drinking deeply, but to her surprise, James’s brow furrowed, and he did not drink. Setting her glass down, Ahnna asked, “Are you invested in something other than cattle, Your Highness? Steel, perhaps?”

“I’m as invested in cattle as any here,” he replied. “However, to increase trade in cattle, steel, and other goods through the bridge risks saturating the market and driving down prices. It may not be in our merchants’ best interest to flood the Southwatch market, given the Maridrinians can barely afford to buy the cattle we run through the bridge already. And they’ve certainly little need for our steel now that the war with Valcotta has ended. Better to sell in other markets.”

There was no argument she could give for the steel, but cattle were a different matter. Ithicana’s taxes were per head. The more animals the Harendellians ran through the bridge to Southwatch, the more gold went into Aren’s coffers. Gold that he could subsequently use to buy cattle to butcher for Ithicanian civilians, and he could buy more cattle if the price was low due to oversupply. But she could hardly admit that the Harendellians’ financial losses were a benefit to Ithicana. “The Maridrinians are suffering a famine, and you think of profit?”

James didn’t so much as flinch. “Harendell is sympathetic to Maridrina’s plight, but we must also protect our own. Tolls to use the bridge are high, but more than that, they are fixed per head, which means that if the price of cattle falls any further, our merchants will lose money selling at Southwatch. It is not Harendell’s duty to feed all of Maridrina while they rebuild; that falls upon Valcotta’s empress and her consort, for all know the part they played in Vencia’s destruction.”

Your countrywoman ensured Vencia’s destruction, Ahnna thought. She’d heard the tale of Lestara’s betrayal of Maridrina before Silas’s Cardiffian wife was transported through the bridge, her banishment to Harendell being Keris’s punishment for her treason. Except given that research into the royal family had revealed no connection between James and Cardiff beyond blood, Ahnna suspected the jab would not land as intended.

James continued to meet her gaze, and it felt like everyone else in the room disappeared as he stared her down. “Of course,” he added, “if Ithicana chooses to buy directly from us and take the loss between markets, it would have our support and admiration.”

Every ounce of goodwill and respect that Ahnna had felt for him disappeared in a rush of anger, but she bit down on the retort that he was a money-grubbing Harendellian. “Under the Fifteen-Year Treaty, Harendell is allied with Maridrina. Don’t you think it shortsighted to abandon them during their time of need when tension is clearly rising between Harendell and Amarid?”

James tilted his head, silent for a long moment before he said, “Ithicana could reduce its bridge tolls, which would allow goods to be sold at a reduced rate to the Maridrinians. We could share the burden of supporting our ally during these troubled times.”

It was an obnoxiously reasonable solution, and there was no way to counter other than the truth. Only that was not the cause of the unease blooming in her chest. For living memory, Harendell had aggressively exported through the bridge, and those exports accounted for almost half of Ithicana’s revenue. Yet the way James spoke suggested that other markets had become available to them. If that were true, then Ahnna’s goals of increasing trade might well turn to preventing the loss of it. Her heart rate escalated because Ithicana was depending on her, and it felt like she’d already failed.

Don’t jump to conclusions, she told herself even as her instincts whispered that James would be no ally in achieving her goals. That if anything, he was very much her adversary.

“With the utmost respect, Your Highnesses,” Georgie said, picking up his glass, “we are going to need to open another few bottles if the conversation topic remains this dull. Tolls and taxes? Treaties and alliances? Doom and gloom? It’s not fit conversation for our first night aboard together.” Taking a mouthful, he set his glass down on the table.

Only for it to slide sideways as the ship was broadsided by a wave.

The Harendellians all cursed, grabbing their glasses before they toppled, but Ahnna rose to her feet. “Quiet!”

The men fell silent as she listened to the groan of the vessel, feeling the way it rolled over the waves, her heart breaking into a gallop as she marked the storm’s shift.

Discarding her glass, she bolted outside as the ship’s bells began ringing, nearly colliding with Jor. “The storm shifted,” they both said at the same time, and as the captain appeared, she added, “We need to head west.”

He didn’t even seem to hear her, and Ahnna marked how all those on deck weren’t watching the storm to the east but rather staring west.

James brushed past her, stopping next to the second mate, who was frantically gesturing out to sea as he explained something to the captain.

Ahnna squinted, her chest tightening as she spotted the lights of ship lanterns. “Merchant ships trying to outrun the storm?”

James shook his head. “Lookouts have counted three Amaridian naval vessels shadowing us,” he said. “But they’re not making any move to come closer, so we may make it to the mainland.”

“They don’t need to come closer,” Ahnna said. “That storm is going to push us into them.”

The ship’s captain heard her words. “It’s just a squall!”

Ahnna lifted her gaze to the swirling clouds, bolts of lightning illuminating the blackness, not understanding how they didn’t see what she saw. “That’s a ship killer if I’ve ever seen one.”

Jor added, “Not because she’s more violent but because you won’t know her weight until she’s swung her first punch. We need to get out of her way.”

“If we head west, they’ll board us,” the captain argued. “Especially if we enter Amaridian waters!”

“The seas are too rough to board,” Jor snapped. “If we stay just west of the storm, their fleet won’t be able to stay together. We wait until they’re blown in different directions and then make a run for it in the dark.”

Walking to the railing, Ahnna rested her hands on the polished wood and stared at the distant lights. Every ship captain with a brain between their ears would be flying away from the storm, but these vessels pressed closer.

James had come up next to her as she spoke, and his elbow brushed hers, the conflict that had risen over the dinner table set aside in the face of a mutual adversary.

“Why are they taking these risks?” she demanded. “Why is your death worth so much to them?”

He didn’t answer, and knowing it was a question to be asked if they got through this alive, Ahnna shifted her thoughts to how they might escape. Turning to face the captain, she said, “We cut east in front of the storm.”

The captain blanched. “Are you mad?”

“Ahnna, there’s not enough time,” Jor shouted. “The storm is nearly on us.”

“Exactly. They’re far enough off that if they try to pursue, they’ll get caught in it for sure.”

“I say we hold the course,” the captain said. “Skirt the edge of the storm.”

“The storm is pressing southwest.” Ahnna held a hand up to the rising wind. “She’ll push us straight into Amaridian waters, and when she blows herself out, we won’t be able to outrun them. Not on this tug.”

“The Victoria is the prized jewel of the king’s fleet!” The captain’s face purpled. “There is nothing like her on the seas.”

“Your Victoria is slow!” Ahnna jabbed a finger toward the Amaridians, the wind tearing her hair loose from its tie. “Whereas they build for speed. This is our only chance, and we’re wasting it on arguments!”

“Ahnna, it’s too risky!” Jor shook his head. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

“If it were Aren standing before you with this plan, you wouldn’t hesitate,” Ahnna shouted. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

His jaw tightened, but it was Taryn’s voice that said, “If it were Aren, we’d already be sailing east. But unlike him, Ahnna’s never led us astray.”

Ahnna met her cousin’s red-rimmed eyes, and then rounded on James, who was the only one present with the power to overrule the captain. “I’ve spent my life on the Tempest Seas. Storms are what I know best.”

James was watching her with a strange, distant expression, like he was caught in a memory, but then he nodded. “They say the tempests defend Ithicana, so let us pray they will defend its princess tonight,” he said, then shouted at the crew. “Follow her orders! I’ll personally toss anyone who argues into the sea, and he can try his luck with the Amaridians!”

Ahnna was already running. “Give her to me!” she shouted at the helmsman, then grabbed the wheel and spun it, the ship rotating east. “I need every sail you have!”

For a heartbeat, no one moved, and then the crew leapt into action.

“They’re putting on pursuit,” someone shouted.

Good, Ahnna thought, remembering all too well the sight of the Amaridian fleet besieging Eranahl on Silas’s orders. I hope the storm claims every last one of you.

James joined her at the helm, the rising winds ruffling his hair, his eyes on the flashing lightning to the north.

“We need to keep as close to the front as we dare,” she said, straining to hold the wheel in place, the ship already beginning to lean at a deadly angle. “They’ll keep farther south on the belief we’ll lose our nerve, and they’ll be able to run us down when the storm loses power. Which means we can’t lose our nerve. Hold the course, then swing around the eastern side of the storm and head north. We should have enough of a head start to get to the mainland before they catch us.”

“How close do we dare?”

“Close.” She braced her boot against the deck, seeing him do the same. “Everything needs to be tied down, and everyone who doesn’t need to be on deck should go below. This will be rough.”

No sooner had she spoken the words than the rain began.

Vicious cold droplets stung her cheeks, and Ahnna squinted to protect her eyes, gaze fixed on the churning mass of clouds to her left. The wind was howling now, screaming its fury like an angry beast, the seas writhing beneath the onslaught. The ship rose and fell with violence that increased with every swell, waves washing over the main deck and forcing the sailors to catch hold of whatever they could to keep from being swept overboard.

Ahnna tuned out their shouts, her ears all for the groans of the ship, the rigging straining against the ferocity of the wind. “You’re all right,” she whispered to the ship. “You can do this.”

“Two are moving south and east, but the other is on our tail,” a lookout cried, though how he could see much of anything in the growing darkness and driving rain, Ahnna didn’t know.

“Ahnna,” Jor roared from where he clung to a rail. “Back off! You’re going to tear the ship apart!”

She ignored him, her attention all for the wind and the ship, the vessel moaning in agony as it crashed through the towering waves. The Victoria might not be fast, but she was strong, and she’d outlast the Amaridian ship in this violence.

The main deck disappeared beneath a wave, and Ahnna clenched her teeth when the water cleared and several sailors were gone. You can’t help them, she told herself. They are already lost. Save who you can.

“Get below!” she shouted at James, her arms shuddering from the strain of holding the wheel in place. “It’s not safe!”

He ignored her, instead grabbing a rope and looping it around the quarterdeck’s railing and then around himself. Lifting the remaining length, he shouted, “Let me tie you to the rail!”

Before she could answer, a wave exploded over the deck.

It smashed into Ahnna, knocking her away from the helm and sending her flying backward.

Her head slammed into the deck, water choking her, the world spinning. Ahnna clawed at the wood, trying to stop her body from rolling, but she couldn’t get a breath of air. The ship leveled, and she scrambled to her hands and knees, cursing as she saw the wheel spinning, the ship rotating south. “No!”

Stumbling back to the helm, she caught hold of the wheel. Except given the chance to race away from the storm, the Victoria was taking it. “Come on!” Ahnna heaved as hard as she could, but she wasn’t strong enough. Couldn’t get the leverage on the wet deck.

You’ve killed them all, her conscience screamed.

Then hands closed over the wheel, a solid chest pressing against her back. “Together!” James shouted. “Heave!”

Hurling all of her strength into the task, Ahnna eased the wheel back to position, inch by painful inch, the Victoria groaning in protest. Please don’t break, she prayed of the rudder. Please be as strong as I need you to be.

The ship rotated perpendicular to the storm, the angle of the deck terrifying, only the press of James’s body and her grip on the wheel keeping Ahnna from sliding off the side of the ship into the murderous sea. Wave after wave rolled over the ship, choking her with seawater and obscuring her vision, forcing her to rely on sound and feel to guide the vessel.

James didn’t fight her when she adjusted course. The strong muscles of his body strained to keep the ship from fleeing the onslaught, his ragged breath hot against her temple. Thunder roared overhead, lightning illuminating the whitecapped seas all around them.

Boom!

“The Amaridian ship on our tail was hit!” someone shouted. “It’s sinking!”

One down.

Ahnna clenched her teeth, debating whether to hold the course. Her instincts screamed to stand strong, but below, she could see that the crew was floundering with the incessant deluge of rain and sea. With the other ships having sailed farther south, she could chance giving the crew some respite. “We’ll ease southeast!” she shouted. “Then tack north when we reach the edge of the storm.”

The stubble on James’s chin brushed her temple as he nodded, and inch by painful inch, Ahnna eased the wheel around, screaming orders to the crew to adjust the sails. Mouths moved as her orders were relayed, sailors struggling across the decks to obey.

Crack!

Ahnna’s eyes snapped up to the rigging in time to see a piece of sail go flying into the darkness, lines swinging and pieces of rigging falling.

“Get down!” James let go of the wheel to pull on her shoulders, but Ahnna held on, knowing that if she lost control of the ship, it would break apart when she tried to force it back on course.

A line swung toward her, a piece of broken timber twisted around it. Ahnna leaned sideways, feeling it pass her ear—

Right as a wave swamped the deck, taking her feet out from under her.

Ahnna slid down the tilted deck, clawing at the wood for purchase. She screamed as she hit the railing, her body toppling overboard.

Only for her fingers to close around the rail.

Terror flooded her veins as her eyes fixed on the sea below her feet, for if she fell in, there would be no surviving.

“Ahnna!”

James’s voice reached over the wind.

“Hold the course!” she screamed. “Hold it!”

Because if he didn’t, they’d all be lost.

The ship steadied, groaning as though it felt the pain of the damage the storm had inflicted, but it did not swing farther south.

A wave rolled over the deck, slamming into her, but Ahnna clung fast to the railing. Choking on seawater, she slung a leg over the edge, hooking her booted ankle against the wood even as she was struck again and again.

She was desperate for air, but the sea gave her no respite, seemingly intent on drowning everyone aboard if it could not sink them.

Hold on! she silently screamed. Get over the rail!

As she tried to pull herself over, the ship jerked, and her ankle slipped. Another shriek tore from her lips as she fell, dangling from one hand, the waves kissing the bottoms of her boots. Begging her to let go and allow the Tempest Seas to claim her.

Not yet, she told the sea even as her fingers slipped. I’m not ready.

A callused hand closed around her wrist.

“I got you,” Jor shouted. “Pull!”

Ahnna heaved, toppling over the railing to land in a heap. Coughing, she fought to get air in her lungs as another wave struck.

But the storm’s ferocity was easing.

As she blinked salt from her eyes, it was to find James still at the helm, Taryn guiding him on the course.

Toward a horizon that gleamed with stars.

“We’re through the worst of it,” Jor said. “North, Taryn, north!”

Her cousin nodded, gesturing as she explained to James how to tack against the stiff wind, shouting orders to the crew as she did. Jor rose to his feet, and then leaned over the rail to look back in their wake. “Not a glimmer of light,” he said. “I’m sure the pricks are out there, but they won’t be catching us this time.”

Ahnna finally managed a breath that filled her lungs, and she nodded. “Good. As soon as the wind eases, we need to get men in the rigging to see about repairs. I can’t tell what was broken in the dark.”

Jor knelt before her. “I’m sorry, Ahnna. I should have trusted you.”

All her life, she’d sought validation from Jor. For him to care for her the same way he did Aren—like a father, for her own had had little time for her. Yet now that she was faced with it, all Ahnna felt was a wave of discomfort, and she looked away. “It could have gone either way.”

Climbing to her feet, she hissed as pain knifed through her body and pressed a hand to her ribs.

“You all right?”

“Yes.” Mastering the pain so it wouldn’t show on her face, she crossed the deck where James was handing off the ship to one of the crew. “Keep heading north,” she said to the man. “No lights. With luck, we should be in sight of the mainland by morning.”

Then she started walking away.

“Your Highness,” James called out, but she pretended not to hear him because her composure was cracking, and she didn’t want him to see.

“Ahnna!”

She kept walking.

Only for his hand to close on her arm, pulling her to a stop. “I’m sorry,” he said, face lost to shadows as the lights were extinguished. “Going to your aid meant abandoning the helm, and—”

“It was the right choice,” she interrupted, pain and nausea twisting in her core. “Risking the lives of everyone aboard this ship for the sake of mine would have been a fool’s move.”

“Your life is worth more.”

“It’s not.” Ahnna hated that sentiment. Hated the idea that a title and a name made her life worth more than anyone else’s. “Though apparently yours is, and I’d like to understand why Katarina was willing to lose so many men to see you dead. And why she wanted to pin it on Ithicana.”

James let go of her arm like he’d been burned. “I don’t know why they are doing this.”

“Figure it out. Or more people are likely to die.”

Ahnna walked away from him, picking her way through the tangled lines and broken pieces of wood, hardly able to see anything in the darkness. Someone lifted the hatch to allow her to go below, and Ahnna clenched her teeth in pain with each step down, pressing one hand against the wall as she walked the corridor in the darkness until she found the door that belonged to her room.

It was dark inside, and wet, the porthole glass having been smashed in the storm. Feeling around in the dark, she found her chest overturned but sealed tightly. With a grunt of effort, Ahnna righted it, then replaced the soaked mattress on the frame, her ribs screaming.

Climbing onto the bed, she rested her cheek against the sodden fabric. Each breath sent spikes of pain through her as she stared blankly, afraid to close her eyes. Afraid to invite in the parade of the dead who haunted her, who she knew would be joined by those who’d died today at Northwatch. Those who’d drowned tonight in the storm. However, with only the blackness of night before her, the visions didn’t wait for sleep before they came.

Grabbing a fistful of the blanket, Ahnna shoved it into her mouth, and then she screamed.

Screamed until exhaustion took her, and then, in her dreams, she screamed louder still as she knelt before those who’d died because she’d lowered her guard. Those who’d suffered because she’d ignored her instincts. Those who would still live if only she’d just kept watch.