Oskar nodded, then straightened. “You’re letting your worry cloud your judgment.”
He didn’t understand. None of them did. “Fuck you, Oskar.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You can’t know what it’s like to have someone ask you to walk away from?—”
“I don’t know?” he shouted.
Selene flinched.
Oskar’s entire body vibrated with restraint, and his fists curled into the air between them. “Emanouella put herself between me and her husband and bartered for my life. She begged me to walk away…and I left her there to die. I live with that every fucking day.
“I know exactly what we’re asking you to do. And so did Augustus. He doesn’t think his life is worth more than yours—or this whole godsdamned crew.”
She knuckled a tear from her cheek and nodded. “All right.”
Oskar heaved out a breath, and his shoulders relaxed. “All right.”
A sob broke through her tight chest. “I can’t lose him.”
He pulled her in, one hand cradling the back of her skull, as if holding her pieces together. “I know. We’ll figure this out.”
She didn’t know how, but she’d work night and day coming up with a plan. She’d burn the world down around her if that’s what it took.
In the near distance, Omar shouted orders over the wind and surf. “Weigh that anchor—move it!”
Selene and Oskar parted to watch the quartermaster work.
“Wave Rider,” he shouted to the helmsman named Victoria, “hold her steady to starboard. Let’s catch that wind.” He scanned the deck until he found the riggers climbing the shrouds. “Loosen the topsails and furl that mainsail! We need full canvas!”
Omar turned to Felix. “Hammer, check the rudderlines. If anything jams, we’re dead in the water.”
“Aye, aye,” Felix said.
Lastly, Omar turned to his wife, sister-in-law, and Lili. “Storm, North Star, the ship’s yours.” Lili started to argue, but he added a final order overtop her arguments. “Graveborn, get your arse to Patch and see to that fucking arm. I’ll hear no more of your excuses.”
Roman approached Selene and Oskar on silent feet, gaze sweeping the efficient crew. If Augustus were there, he’d appreciate the fact that the Drynopian had finally donned a shirt.
Roman’s gaze paused on her tear-streaked face.
She wiped them away, fast and furious.
He frowned. “Where are we going?”
Oskar squeezed Selene into his side as if to hold her together. “To find the rest of the Triarius Fleet.”
“And then,” Selene said, “we finish this war.”
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
The rage-filled shouts circled Dimitrios like a cloak made of pure flame.
The main hall had once been a place of gossip, food, and wine, comfort for all these provincial lords. The fury in this room sealed at least one decision: asking for a vote would hand Alexandra the crown.
Very few offered him mercy.
Rena Nicolea, however, had all these men by the balls.
His aunt had arrived days ago, released by Antonis to attend Court as his proxy. She’d arrived and greeted him with her typical warmth. She asked after his health. Made him feel loved and seen.
