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16

NERYS

I do not doubt it. But the question is… do you?

It was never my abilities I doubted, but my willingness to challenge the queen. But as I attempted an advanced sea-bind, and failed, Rowan’s question swirled in my mind.

He’d said nothing but sat patiently watching me. Though we’d broken our fast before coming to the cove, it was well past time for a midday meal. I disliked stopping now, but a break was in order. For us both.

My arms had begun to ache from holding them in the air for so long. It felt good to stretch them, dropping them by my sides for a rest. Like this morning, when he first opened the door, Rowan’s expression hid nothing. I will admit, knowing he watched me with such admiration had made this training session different than most. I wanted to please him even though the approval of a man was something Aneri had long warned me not to covet.

“I’m glad to see you still smiling after so long a session,” I said.

Rowan stood from where he’d been sitting on a flat rock, watching me.

“I have every reason to smile, and none to frown. You are magnificent, Nerys.”

There was something in his voice that gave me pause. A sincerity that stopped me from offering a glib reply, as I might have had Marek offered such a compliment. The two men were equally as handsome, in different ways. But when I looked at my friend, I saw only someone who cared for me. Not since our first encounter did Marek look at me the way Rowan did now. Nor did I wish him to.

Rowan, on the other hand?

I’d have let him kiss me this morn, and it would have been a mistake.

I curtsied, not in jest, but in honest reverence to his sincerity. And to give thanks, not just for his compliment, but Rowan’s patience.

“It is I who should bow to you, the future queen of Thalassaria.”

“Not if I am unable to sea-bind at will. It is a skill Queen Lirael performs well, and one revered by my people.”

Making my way to the sack I’d placed beside Rowan, I took out the leather pouch.

“Have you eaten yet?”

Rowan shook his head. “I waited for you.”

“That was most chivalric of you,” I said, only half-teasing, handing him a seaweed wrap.

“So tell me of the challenge. How and when will it happen? And I’ve been wondering. Can the queen summon sea serpents?”

“I’ve not seen her do so, but my guess is that there is nothing I can do that the queen cannot.” I took a bite, sitting on Rowan’s rock, glad to not be standing. I had not realized how much time had passed. Seeing his confusion, I explained. “There may be minor skills that the queen can perform and I cannot, or the opposite. But mostly, those will be performative, but lacking substance. The ones that will be tested are those which save lives, and protect them. Such as sea-binding, which she excels at.”

“What is sea-binding?”

“It is the art of holding the water still no matter how wild it becomes: an essential skill for calming storms or redirecting tidal waves. As to how the challenge will happen: on the last day of the festival, the queen or her council asks for challengers.”

“Which she’s never had— Nerys? What is that?”

I stood, taking another bite of seaweed wrap, and looked in the direction of Rowan’s pointed finger. When the pelagor emerged, I dropped my wrap and ran to the water’s edge. It had been many years since I’d seen one and knew well its perceived significance.

“A pelagor. They are an extremely rare species, so rare, most are unlikely to see them in their lifetimes. We can ride it if we get closer. Hurry.”

Making my way deeper into the sea, I dove headfirst into the water and, holding my breath, stayed there long enough to allow the pelagor to feel my presence. Willing it not to leave, I finally emerged, surprised to find Rowan swimming beside me.

“I was uncertain if you’d come.”

He swam surprisingly well, for a human.

“This is madness. It’s more likely to swallow us whole than give us a ride.”

We headed out even further and then treaded water, waiting. “It would never eat us.” I thought about that more deeply. “At least, it would not eat me. Perhaps it knows the difference between a Thalassarian and a human.”

Only because Rowan appeared genuinely concerned did I drop the ruse. “I am jesting. They— look!”

It was coming toward us.

“Stay here.”

“As if I have anywhere else to go.”

Diving beneath the waves, I angled myself toward the pelagor and watched. It was, indeed swimming toward us. Closing my eyes, I envisioned it gliding under Rowan and me.

He is human; tread carefully.

Emerging once again, I laughed at Rowan’s expression. “He knows you are human. When you feel him under your legs, just allow yourself to sit and float upwards.”

“Nerys—”

Whatever he was about to say had to wait. The pelagor was under us now. It moved through the water so slowly, I was certain it had heard me.

“Steady,” I called, as we were raised above the water. Moving myself to kneel beside him, the back of our pelagor slightly concave and four times wider than Rowan’s bed, there was no need to hold on, even if we wished to do so.

As we moved, I watched Rowan marvel at the mosaic of blues and purples that made up the unique coloring of the pelagor we rode. It was my second time seeing one, the first not nearly as large or magnificent, but just as awe-inspiring. They were gentle and intelligent creatures that humans likened to whales in their world, though pelagors were much larger. Their size could be intimidating, as evidenced by my wide-eyed companion.

“It is… magnificent.”

Running my hand along the slightly rough back of the pelagor, who seemed intent on taking us further out to sea, I was rewarded by a deep rumble of contentment.

“He likes it,” I said, reaching for Rowan’s hand, placing my own on top of his and showing him the circular movements these creatures were said to enjoy.

When the pelagor made the sound again, Rowan smiled as if he were a young one. It was the smile of innocence and unadulterated pleasure. I removed my hand, or attempted to. Rowan reached across and put it back in place.

Our eyes met.

Whether or not Rowan felt it too, the warmth and connection that was becoming increasingly difficult to deny, I could not be certain. But I wasn’t surprised when he flipped his hand upside down and curled his fingers through mine.

It was beautiful, and natural, and no part of me wanted to pull away.

“Look.” I turned his attention to the clear, blue-green sea beside us as a school of marisol swam by, their fin-like frills giving the effect of ribbons.

“Incredible.”

Rowan’s hand tightened around mine as we rode further away from shore. Though he appeared calm, I sought to reassure him just in case.

“The pelagor is one of Thalassarian’s oldest creatures, their memory and lifespan longer than any Elydorian. He will deliver us safely back to shore.”

“I am not worried.”

He must be. Rowan was human, after all. And we were well beyond sight of the shore now on a creature very few even spotted much less rode.

“Not even a bit?”

His gaze was steady. “I’ve watched you all morning, Nerys. There is not a Thalassarian alive I feel safer beside in the sea than you.”

While it was true I could deliver us safely back to shore if anything were to happen, I appreciated his confidence in me.

Rowan trusted me with his life. I wanted to remark upon that fact, but instead said nothing. There were no words that would do this moment justice, so I simply offered a reassuring smile and looked to the horizon.

In fact, neither of us spoke for the remainder of the ride. Instead, deep in our own thoughts and companionable silence, we accepted the ride we’d been offered.

When the pelagor finally turned back and delivered us to the very spot where we began, dipping below the surface and depositing us back into the water, I thanked him, grateful for such an experience.

Grateful that it had been offered to Rowan, too.

When we made our way back to the shore, I thought to explain to him the true significance of what just happened. Except, no words came from my mouth. Instead, I simply stared, my feet sinking into the sand at the water’s edge, as Rowan casually removed his linen shirt and wrung it out.

His back, his shoulders, were that of a warrior. One who spent a good portion of his time wielding the heavy broadsword we’d taken from him. Rowan’s muscles rippled as he moved, glistening as brilliantly as the school of marisol. I had seen many warriors train. A man’s form was not new to me, and yet…

This was Rowan.

He turned and caught me staring. I didn’t move. But he did.

Rowan’s steps were measured, determined. And in that moment, I knew—whether it was a good idea or not—my longing for his kiss would soon be fulfilled.