Memory of what happened at the ruins came rushing back, stoking a fresh fire low in her stomach. Sir Arkwright. Her capture.
She had to escape and find her family. Find Alyx.
But first, she had to know where she was.
Cautiously, she dared to crack open her eyes.
A narrow strip of stony beach tucked beneath a rise of rock greeted her hazy vision. A small, single-masted ship bobbed just beyond, tethered to a slick, dark mooring stone. A handful of men loitered along the shore—sailors, by the look of them.
Just before her stood a Lothmeeran man in a worn coat, arms folded over his chest, boots braced wide. The light was fading, sunset painting itself across what scant sky she could glimpse in the distance.
But even in that dying light, she could clearly see how the man glanced her way for all of a moment—just long enough to wink—before he shifted his attention to a point over her shoulder. As if he were aware of her watching him through her eyelashes.
Behind her sat Tiberius’s solid warmth, one arm still anchoring her in place. The horse beneath them shifted restlessly, snortingand bobbing its head. She wondered how long they had been in this place.
“She is the Queen of Elmoria,” Tiberius hissed. “Do you not understand what that means? I am offering you a chance to—”
“I know exactly what it means,” the Lothmeeran cut in, sounding thoroughly unimpressed. “I also know what it means when witches start sniffing around, asking questions. And when they offer good coin for a pretty queen’s head.”
At the wordwitches, something inside her snapped fully awake. She could not linger here.
This man was clearly a scoundrel. He would sell her to the highest bidder.
Seraphina sucked in a sharp breath and opened her eyes fully, sitting tall. The world cleared into painful focus—the beach, the ship, the men, Tiberius’s gloved hand at her waist.
Her once-friend startled, glancing down at her. “Sera.” Relief flashed across his features. “You are awake. Excellent.” His voice softened, turning cajoling.
As if he had not drugged her into unconsciousness.
As if she had not tried to stab him in the gut.
“Listen to me, Sera. This man is going to sail you to Lothmeer. You will be safe there. It is the only way.”
Safe?
The word merely fed the flames of her rising fury.
“And what about my godparents?” Her voice came out rougher than she liked, rusted from disuse. But it carried well enough. “What about Olivia?”
Her chest clenched. And Aldric—
His face rose up behind her eyes without mercy. The way he had looked at her in parting. The way he had kissed her hand, even after their terrible fight the night before. The way he had gifted her his dagger, despite everything.
And now, he was probably dead.
The thought drove a lance through her heart.
She swallowed hard, biting out each word. “And what about myhusband? Did you care about their safety at all when you betrayed me to Coreto?”
Tiberius’s mouth tightened. “I am a businessman, Sera,” he said, each word clipped. “Not a miracle worker.”
Her anger flared, bright and sharp, burning through the last of the fog clinging to her thoughts. Her bodice dagger was gone, lost to the King’s Forest, but she still had two weapons left.
Two more means of escape.
On her right hand, Olivia’s ring glinted faintly in the dying light. For a moment, she simply stared at it, at the delicate glass jewel set into the simple band.
Her best friend had meant for her to use it on Nerina Reef against Edmund should their peace talks have gone awry. How delighted Olivia would be to hear the tale of how she had used it against Tiberius instead.
