“What can we do?” Lady Freya asked, her voice quivering slightly. “We have a navy and a few contingents of soldiers, but ifWillamina brings allies…” Her voice faded, but she didn’t have to go on. Everyone knew exactly what she meant.
“Unfortunately, Maricanta’s navy is still recovering after our clash with Queen Arianna’s aunt two years ago,” Prince Lucas said, wincing as he did. “Until we finish our repairs, our ships are little better than buckets floating in the water. But,” he took a deep breath, “I’m sure the merpeople will be more than interested in this. They’ve always liked the pirates even less than we do. And that wasbeforemy new sister-in-law lost her older brother to them.” He nodded once. “I can’t make promises, but I’m rather sure they will be quite interested in at least trailing the ships and passing along any information they get. We might not be able to fight much with you, but we could perhaps send word if Arianna hears that anything is coming.”
“Your brother has said as much,” his wife murmured, her dark hair shining in the light as she turned to face him. Then she turned and fixed lovely dark eyes on Norah. “And that wasbeforehe knew that there were any Biannes still alive.”
“King Xander is always happy to dispose of pirates in any way he can,” Admiral Starke said. “I’ll have several ships posted nearby. We can discuss signals in the case of an attack.”
The other visitors, some of whom were from other small coastal kingdoms like TiFiore, began discussing ways they might be of assistance as well. A pirate kingdom would benefitno oneon the coast. But as they continued to talk, Norah was distracted by the calloused hand that found hers beneath the table. It was strong and steady, like an anchor for the ship she suddenly felt herself to be, battered all about in this sudden storm. And she held onto it for life.
Whether or not the pirates had seen them when they ventured into the city seemed irrelevant now. They knew she was here. And, it seemed, they knew she was residing at the palace. But Norah still felt guilty. What if her hours sitting in the tree or out in the city were to blame for exposing herlocation? What if she had brought down the pirates’ wrath upon the people who had done everything they could to help her? People she had begun to think of as her own?
And what was it all for?
The chance to heal the prince. A chance that might–even if she did fall in love–never come.
Chapter 12
All Along
Norah was walking from her bedroom to the little balcony for breakfast the next morning when she heard a crash. It had come from the direction of the little library that also served as the royal family’s private parlor. She paused in the hall, not sure whether she ought to investigate or not. It wasn’t her palace after all, but–
Lady Freya emerged from the library at the end of the hall, her shoulders slumped and her eyes downcast. Norah waited for her, but Lady Freya seemed so distracted that she nearly ran into Norah before realizing she was there.
“What happened?” Norah asked, glancing anxiously back at the library.
“Oh.” Lady Freya shook her head. “Um, it seems Phillip has forgotten how to play his violin.”
Norah stared at her, sure she hadn’t heard correctly.
He hadforgotten?
But then it occurred to her. At one point, he hadforgottenparticular words. Then he had forgotten how to speak. Then, how to write.
And now, he had forgotten how to play.
Norah hurried toward the library. But when she stepped inside, she paused. On the ground beside a little wooden table, which now had a gash in its side, lay the remnants of what had been Phillip’s beloved instrument–his voice, in a way. It had been smashed into hundreds of pieces all over the ground.
Phillip wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was pacing the room, running his hands distractedly–almost frantically–through his hair as he did. Gone was the look of peace that Norah had grown so accustomed to seeing on his face. Instead, he wore anger, resentment, and distress like a coat.
“Phillip?” Norah asked, her voice shaking slightly.
Phillip, like his sister, seemed so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t seem to have noticed that she was there. Only when she called his name did he raise his head to look at her.
Rather than smiling, however, or looking sheepish as she expected him to do, his expression darkened, and he turned away from her and toward the window, where he crossed his arms.
She stared at him for a long moment, and her initial reaction was to feel somewhat hurt.Shehadn’t taken his ability to play the instrument.Shehadn’t destroyed it in a fit of anger. In fact, she–
Something crunched under her feet, and she looked down to find a sheet of music that had fallen on the ground. Carefully, so as not to tear it, she picked it up and read the words.
It was a lullaby.
Norah read the words, then looked at him again, her heart filling with a familiar ache, the one that she knew all too well came from a place of helplessness. And she was reminded of something her mother had told her when she was quite young.
Sometimes we can’t heal them.She had gestured to the room full of their patients.Sometimes we can. But either way, we need to listen. We have to let them know that they’re not alone.
Norah couldn’t fix this. Not yet, at least. But maybe this… Maybe this was a way for her to go deeper. Because to fall in love with this man, she would have to know him. Toreallyknow him.And the pain he was suffering in silence now was where she would have to be if she was going to meet him properly. The crash of the violin had been a desperate cry for help, a way to silence the void that was threatening to swallow him.
The question she had to ask herself now, though, was whether she could follow him. Tarts and songs and dancing on the beach were pretty things, but love–real love–would mean accompanying him into the dark and holding his hand whether she could heal him or not.
