Huffing a tight sigh, Connak flattens his lips, tearing his eyes downward to Ves. “You got that kind of money?” he asks, his voice low. “I’m gonna need some sort of guarantee.”
“You have the word of the Witherhorn family,” I say, noting his quarrelsome demeanor and making toward the gangplank.
I’ll fight with him about logistics after Ves is settled.
Not before.
The number of silent stares as I board grows, and by the time I cross the deck, I’ve earned the eyes of nearly everyone aboard. They undoubtedly heard me give my family name.
This isn’t the impression I wish to leave upon our only means of travel. But we’ve little choice. I’m sure Eve, Cyran, and myself aren’t the only ones on edge right now.
Ahead, Cyran opens the office door.
Setting Ves upon the narrow, low bed, the veilflower vines curled around my arm snap, bursting into blue smoke. As the door swings shut behind Cyran, Connak begins shouting orders to his crew and the ship moves in the seconds following. With a grimace, I hold my breath, waiting to see if Ves wakes.
She heaves a sigh, curling onto her side, and veilflower vines creep from her hair and crawl over the bed. She remains fast asleep for now. With little care, Eve sweeps an arm across Connak’s desk, clearing it of parchment. Maps and scrolls tumble over the backside of the desk as she tilts the candle on its side over the center of the desk.
Black wax puddles onto the aged lacquer.
“I’m not risking it falling over,” she says in response to the concerned stare I give her. She plants the base of the candle in the black pool, holding it firm.
I’ll be paying for an extended trip and damages, it seems.
I heave a sigh, but nod.
Settling onto the foot of the bed, the frame creaks under my weight. Cyran remains by the door, watching Eve with an unamused stare as she climbs over the desk, careful to keep herself away from the blue flame.
She settles into the plush seat and shrugs.
“What happens if she wakes?” Cyran asks, swinging his stare in my direction.
“We hope we’re close enough to shore to swim,” Eve replies, her tone jesting, but flat.
“It shouldn’t come to anything like that,” I answer, keeping my voice low. “But I won’t deny having reservations.”
Eve cracks a smirk.
“Cyran, as soon as we break the fog, return to Ollora and let Lilith know we’re on the way,” I say and he nods once. “I’m not sure if it will do any good, but ward our quarters—establish the same wards as the stronghold. If I’m forced to contain her, I’ll contain her there.”
Again, Cyran nods.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” he says.
The office door swings open and Connak appears. He doesn’t enter the room, instead he stares at me, his face pale.
“You’ve a visitor,” he says, fighting to keep his voice from trembling. “If you’re the Sovereign King of Erus.”
Confused, I pull myself to my feet, lowering my hood and cowl. Connak, recognizing me, nods. “Glad to see you weren’t using a royal family name in a lie. But hate to be the bearer of bad news.” He swings out of the doorway, revealing the deck beyond.
Vaelyn, flanked by two fae with dark, leathery wings, offers me a smile.
“No fucking way,” Eve whispers, her eyes fixed.
“Eve, stay here,” I say over my shoulder, ducking under the low frame of the doorway. “Cyran, with me.”
“Enjoy your trip?” Vaelyn asks, the smile on his face growing obnoxious as I approach. “Cal Anore is beautiful this time of year.”
“What do you want?” I demand, and his brows fly high. “If you’re here for Eve, she’s unavailable.”
