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Chapter Twenty-Two

RAZIEL

Something was wrong.

Duke Keventin had suggested they’d go for a stroll to the markets around the docks and take the women shopping. Not once during the week he’d been at Laos Keep had the duke shown one iota of interest in his wife’s wellbeing.

The outing was a ruse.

Keventin just wanted to show Raziel how much influence he had over the navy and how profitable his province was. He was trying to intimidate Raz.

It was laughable really.

While Duke Keventin could be a powerful enemy, his entire province had been bestowed upon him during Raziel’s grandfather’s rule. It would be just as easy to oust the man and replace him.

But he really didn’t want to do that.

It would create more problems.

He needed to do this carefully and get Duke Keventin on his side.

Gideon strode by his side as they meandered through the open market, his ever-loyal spymaster.

No one ever suspected his friend of being deadly with a blade.

He was underestimated at every turn because of his fair looks, which suited them both.

Gideon could gallivant around as Raziel’s ambassador, gossiping and flirting, all while protecting the king’s back and collecting information without seeming threatening.

The scent of fried dough, roasted meat, sweet fruit, and incense perfumed the sea air along with hints of brine and fish. Exotic fabrics waved in the breeze, and jewelry sparkled in the sunlight, gleaming from velvet trays. His warriors mingled with the crowd, ever close but not overbearing.

“Did you see Keventin’s face?” Gideon muttered underneath his breath. He smiled and winked at one of Lady Keventin’s ladies, who trailed a little ahead of them with the queen. She batted her lashes and glanced away coyly, pretending to admire a painted scarf.

Raziel nodded, eyeing his wife and the way she drifted through the crowd, barely engaging with any of the merchants. She’d certainly not been herself this morning. He’d gone to the beach for their early meditation, and Mer hadn’t been there.

It bothered him more than he’d wanted to admit.

Over the last week, Raz had thought they’d made some progress. Maybe she hated him a little less or had come to terms with the fact that they were stuck together for life.

Apparently not.

Trying to catch her eye proved unfruitful.

Why the cold shoulder? All the life seemed to have been drained out of her.

After Mer’s excitement over the music last night, he procured the bard to visit them at the palace.

She seemed to be fond of music, and if it made things a little more peaceful between them, so be it.

Frustrated, he glanced away at Keventin on his right, and the four deep cuts across his cheek, jaw, and neck. The man chatted with a goldsmith and gestured to his face.

“Subdued the vicious thing before it had a chance to take another swipe at me.” The duke grinned cockily at the merchant, puffing out his chest. “Would like to have another go at the beastie.”

“It would be entertaining, to be sure,” the goldsmith replied.

Raziel brushed a small braid from his cheek and tucked it behind his ear. He didn’t think that was the whole story. The tight skin around Keventin’s eyes and the anger that he held just beneath the surface told Raz something different. If only he’d been around to see what actually happened.

The older man was as vain as they came.

If the cat story was true, then he hadn’t expected to be attacked, or else he wouldn’t have engaged. The duke liked winning. He always stacked the odds in his favor. The fact that he’d lost to a beast seemed... odd or rather fortuitous.

No, Raz suspected something else altogether had occurred. But what?

“They’re pretty ugly,” Gideon breathed, flashing a smile at a buxom merchant’s wife, who blushed furiously and set about organizing their carved candlesticks.

“That they are.” He kept from rolling his eyes and smiled at the old carver, who glared at his wife, unabashedly fanning her face. Raz stifled the chuckle that threatened to escape at their display. Gideon always had that effect on the fair sex everywhere he went. It didn’t matter their age either.

His friend pursed his lips. “Do you believe him?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, only that he agrees to enforce the new changes I’ve proposed.” Pushback wasn’t an option. He peered over his shoulder at Keventin, who untangled himself from his wife and winked at a servant girl carrying a box.

Irreprehensible.

“If he’s smart, he will,” Gideon replied. “He’s been taxing the people more, and none of that has gone to the royal coffers but into his own pockets. Some could construe that as embezzlement.”

Raziel grunted in agreement.

The markets grew crowded, people bowing and curtsying as they passed by. A woman with a decorative curtain formed of sea shells and underwater trinkets caught his eye. The queen had slowed, her fingers gently running over gilded shells, pearl hairpins, ocean jasper rings, and coral bracelets.

Her fingers lingered on a soft green pearl hairpin for a long moment before she reached up to her short hair. A flash of regret crossed her face before she moved on. If she hated her hair short, why cut it?

More questions and no answers.

His wife continued on, speaking softly to Duchess Keventin who had caught up.

Raz approached the stall, and the windswept woman with dark brown hair and skin bowed low, her eyes on the ground. He picked up the hairpin and studied it.

It was simple.

A large pale green pearl sat at one end of the gold pin. Waves were engraved into the pin itself. It ended in a sharp point.

Simple. Beautiful. Sharp.

Just like his wife.

He didn’t understand the need he felt to procure it for his wife. It seemed like it belonged with Mer. Nothing more.

Liar, liar.

“Gideon?” he called.

His friend arched a brow at Raziel but silently placed the coins on the artist’s table, plus a little extra for good measure. “Your work is stunning.”

The woman beamed. “Thank you,” she blurted out, glancing up at Raziel before looking back to the ground. “Would you like me to wrap it?”

“No.” Raziel pocketed the object, his thumb running over the pearl. Satisfaction settled over him at the purchase. It was a good gift—no, peace offering , lest Mer get the wrong idea.

“If I might be so bold,” the woman said softly, “our lady might like these.” She pushed a set of dainty silver hair clips with small purple-and-orange shells, accented with peach seed pearls. “These are good for shorter hair,” she explained, lacing her fingers together.

He eyed them and fiddled with the hairpin in the pocket of his sleeveless robe. Her hair wasn’t long enough for the pin, so she’d have to wait to use it, but the clips...

“Wrap them,” he demanded gruffly, feeling too many eyes on him, including Keventin, who had turned around to see what held them up.

The woman quickly packaged the clips and set them on the table.

Raziel scooped up the small parcel and shoved it unceremoniously in his other pocket while Gideon paid the merchant.

He continued on, smiling to those who met his gaze, ignoring the annoying boasting of Keventin as they perused the wares.

Gideon caught up with him and shoved his hands in his pockets but said nothing.

Raziel’s jaw clenched, wanting to explain himself but knowing he didn’t need to. “I couldn’t go to the market and not support my people.” A logical explanation.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Except he felt the need to. “They were pretty,” Raz admitted, feeling a little vulnerable.

“Like your wife?” his friend teased gently.

He scowled at Gideon but didn’t refute his words. It would make him a liar if he did. Raz had expected her to be cold like the sea, but she was all flames and fire like the sun. Despite her prickly nature, he was inexplicably drawn to her. It was off-putting and inconvenient.

Sighing, Raz shrugged. “She needed them.” Which was true.

Over the course of the last few days of meditation, her hair was constantly tangled and in her eyes.

It made him want to smooth the wavy locks out of the way.

That was not something he could indulge in.

Their marriage was an agreement made for the better good.

He had no plans of forming any attachments.

“They suit her. You chose well.”

Raz shoved down the burst of pleasure at the compliment. It didn’t matter if she liked them or not. She had a need, and as her king, he was duty bound to provide her with what she needed.

Keventin smiled widely at Raziel, the wounds pulling on his face. “Are you ready to tour our newest warship, my king?”

“I am looking forward to seeing what you’ve done to my fleet,” he replied.

The duke’s smile was sharp. “I aim to please.” He turned his back to Raz and strode ahead.

“He didn’t like your reminder that the fleet is yours,” Gideon muttered. “He’s going to be a problem.”

“Keventin is already a problem,” Raziel growled.

The market gave way to the naval docks. Magnificent warships bobbed in the harbor.

Seagulls screeched from the skies, circling high above.

Uniformed officers stood at attention at the end of the closest dock.

Raziel spotted Captain Velicu standing on the warship, her signature long navy coat fluttering in the wind.

She’d been given command of the new ship.

At least the duke had listened to Raziel in his suggestion for the outstanding female captain to be rewarded.

Keventin paused next to Mer, and for some reason, it made the hair along Raziel’s arms stand at attention.

“Shall we, my queen?” Duke Keventin asked, bowing grandly to Mer.

Don’t take his hand.

He missed a step at the thought and stumbled before catching himself. Where had that come from?

The queen stiffened, staring Keventin down.

The duke smiled wider. “Come now, let me show you all the strength of our navy.”

Raziel’s eyes narrowed at their backs when she slowly accepted his arm.

“Easy there,” Gideon advised. “You’re looking a little jealous.”

That wouldn’t do. Raziel wiped a hand over his face and spotted Duchess Keventin gazing after her husband and the queen, her hand curled around her belly. Disgust filled him. She was too young for Keventin. Hell, she was too young to be anyone’s wife. She was just a girl. A pregnant girl.

That was his next project. Changing the marriageable age. It had been a long time coming. The horror on Mer’s face at the banquet when she discovered Sienna was the duke’s wife haunted Raziel. It was hard to even look at her without wanting to beat the duke bloody.

One thing at a time. Be patient.

With unease churning in his gut, he approached the little lady and held his elbow out for her. She blinked owlishly up at him before curtsying and placing her dainty hand lightly on his forearm.

“Th-Thank you, my k-ki-king.”

“My pleasure,” he answered. He took small steps so that she could keep up.

Lady Keventin made him feel like a brute. She didn’t even reach his sternum. Most women didn’t with his height.

Except for your queen.

His gaze was drawn to Mer once again. Most of her smooth back was exposed, her body swathed in a baby-blue watered-silk dress. She reached his shoulder. He didn’t have to angle his neck to look at his Sirenidae wife.

It would be easy to kiss her.

Raziel blanched.

There would be no kissing.

“She’s lo-lovely,” Lady Keventin whispered, following his gaze. “K-kind too.”

Kind? When had the queen shown kindness to the little duchess? From the girl’s tone, she liked Mer. That connection could prove useful. “I hear that you will be returning with us to the Onyx Palace. You must have made a good impression on the queen as well.”

The duchess smiled but said nothing.

With Keventin’s wife and heir in the capital, perhaps it would keep the duke from doing anything he might regret.

Like start a civil war.

His lips thinned as Keventin released the queen’s arm and placed his hand on her bare back to help her up the ramp to the new warship.

She jerked and twisted slightly out of the way, her feet catching on the long skirt of her dress.

Mer grabbed the duke, a scream falling from her lips as she lost her balance.

Calculating magenta eyes met Raziel’s for a second before the pair tumbled into the bay.