‘You can’t be serious. First you accuse me of treason, now heresy?’ Aya was unmoved by his frustration, which only grew as he glared at her. ‘Of course I fucking believe in the gods. Think what you want about me, but I’m no heretic.’
Her voice was soft and vicious as she said, ‘Is that what you cling to in order to live with yourself?’
Sometimes, he thought he might actually hate her.
‘Funny,’ he seethed, ‘I was going to ask if your utter devotion was your way of avoiding taking any responsibility in your life.’
His heart hammered as anger, hot and heavy, pooled in his gut.
It was as if she knew … as if she could hear the arguments that raged in his head late at night.
Lately, Will didn’t thank Pathos, his patron god, for his power.
He cursed him.
Aya’s eyes flashed with anger. But he continued on before she could land another verbal blow, his chin jerking toward the parchment in her hands as he stood. ‘Either way, I suggest you start reading. You have a lot to get through.’
‘Enforcer?’
Will glanced up from the book in his hands, another historical fiction the captain had loaned him. He’d read four during their time at sea. It wasn’t as if Aya was willing to socialize with him outside of the times he’d demanded they review their plans over the last week.
‘We’ve just anchored,’ the first mate said from where he stood in the doorway of his room. ‘A skiff will be here within the half hour to take you to shore.’
With the imposing cliffs that surrounded Rinnia, docking a ship of their size would be impossible. So smaller skiffs traversed the choppy waters, ferrying merchants and visitors from larger vessels to the small harbor on the far side of the shoreline.
Will nodded, closing the book with a snap before heading to the main deck. Aya stood at the railing, her dark brown hair whipping in the warm breeze. She was back in the black ensemble she’d left in, looking like a speck of night against the backdrop of the city, which sprawled up from the crescent moon beach, its buildings an explosion of color. Coral pinks and bright yellows and blinding whites and rich blues covered the landscape, lining the twisting paths that wound up the towering cliffs and stretching far into the city.
‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ he said by way of greeting, following her gaze to where a shimmering sandstone palace, all arches and open windows, sat on top of one of the cliffs. She nodded, her hands tugging at her shirt. ‘The heat takes some getting used to. A lighter wardrobe will help. There are some shops we’ll head to after we get settled in.’
His brow furrowed as he watched a small skiff approach a neighboring boat. He’d had weeks to prepare for this. It wasn’t enough. It never was.
He hated this city.
‘We’ll head to the castle first. We’ll be expected to greet the royal family before settling into our rooms.’
‘I know,’ Aya muttered, her gaze fixed on the town.
‘They’ll likely ask us to join them for dinner—’
‘I know,’ she cut him off again, moving to stalk past him. Will caught her arm, hauling her back.
‘Then youalsoknow that I’m about to remind you what’s at stake. I need Dominic’s favor, and you need access to the Maraciana. Don’t screw this up.’
She shoved past him, her shoulder all angles and bone as it rammed into his.
He’d have to work on that. The not-eating. The nausea.
It was an impossible task, this journey of his. A fucking impossible task.
25
Aya stood with Will in the main hall of the clifftop palace, the pale marble floor glistening like sand and seeming to shift beneath her feet after so long at sea.
Open archways were rimmed by gossamer curtains that blew in the ever-present breeze, which carried the cries of the gulls and crash of the waves through the airy space. It was blinding, the brightness that flooded this place.
Aya marked the sentinels in the king’s emerald-green livery, their backs ramrod straight as they guarded the entrances to the four halls that split from the atrium.
A new addition, if Will’s notes were to be believed.
