His gaze returned to the ship. He really couldn’t look at her for long.
The wind dragged her cloak around her ankles. ‘I should go.’
Tariq didn’t move. He stood rigid, his jaw set and eyes ahead. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tight. ‘You’ve destroyed everything.’
Her lungs stilled.
‘I don’t know whether you killed my father or not,’ he said, ‘but it barely matters now. The damage is done.’ A bitter breath escaped through his teeth. ‘I might not have the strength to watch you die, but if you ever return to Gruisea, you’ll be imprisoned, then executed.’
She forced herself to breathe.
‘I fought for you,’ he said. ‘For us. I faced down the entire court and never regretted a moment until…’ He shook his head, unable to finish.
Her throat felt like thorns were jammed in it. ‘I never wanted?—’
‘It actually doesn’t matter what you wanted.’ Anger had crept into his tone. ‘It matters what you did.’
Silence lapped between them again.
Aisha took a much-needed breath, trying to hold herself together. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart, not when he had risked so much to get her out. ‘I’m sorry.’ The words fell flat.
Tariq’s gaze flicked briefly to hers. ‘Go.’
She walked as bravely as she could towards the ship, the wind harsh against her skin. She didn’t dare look back. Tears began falling despite her best effort to hold them in. She was halfway to the ship when she heard him call her name.
‘Aisha.’
Her feet instantly stopped. She turned, stupidly hopeful despite having no reason to be. He walked towards her, hands fisted at his sides. He didn’t say anything when he got to her. Reaching up, his fingers brushed the skin of her neck, and for one naïve moment, she thought he was being tender with her, that maybe he had changed his mind and wanted to fight for them all over again. But then his fingers closed around the chain hanging from her neck, and with one sharp tug, it broke. The token was taken from her. The action left a stinging sensation on the back of her neck, a reminder of their final severing.
Aisha’s hand went instinctively to the place the token had rested.
‘Now you can go,’ Tariq said, his voice quiet. He turned and walked away before she had a chance to move, the chain curled in his fist.
Aisha watched him for as long as she could bear it. Then she slowly turned and went to join Maryam. She noted the dark circles around the attendant’s eyes. Mira wriggled in Maryam’s arms when she saw Aisha. She took the cub from her.
‘Your Majesty,’ Maryam said, her hand going over her heart as she lowered her head.
Aisha stared at her for a long moment, then made her way up the gangway, one step at a time, ready for the wind to carry her away.
Chapter 35
Water stretched in every direction, blue-grey and endless. The ship creaked as it cut through the sea, its sail drawn taut. Salt clung to Aisha’s skin. She sat on the mid-deck, her cloak pulled tightly around her, staring at the horizon. It was day two at sea, but it felt more like day thirty thanks to the ever-present nausea.
Mira dozed at her side while Maryam sat a respectful distance away, occupying a shaded corner closer to the stern. She was seated on a crate with her face tilted to the sky. They had barely spoken since their departure. There was no hostility between them, but no warmth either. Just silence. A growing heaviness between two people simply trying to survive.
Yawning, Mira moved to Aisha’s lap, nuzzling her hand. Aisha obliged, her thoughts circling back to Tariq as they had done so many times. She recalled his tense body and icy tone. The finality of his words. She knew she would survive it, but she didn’t know who she would be at the end of it all.
The hours passed in a slow, sun-drenched haze. While the nausea dulled, it never truly left. She remained in that spot, with Mira sprawled across her thighs. Occasionally, a crew member passed by and nodded a greeting, but they didn’t stop. No one knew what to say to the king’s exiled bride.
By mid-afternoon, the clouds thinned and the coastline appeared. Montia. Aisha moved to the ship’s rail, watching as the sun-bleached stone buildings of Virelin became clearer. Maryam appeared beside her as the ship began its slow turn towards the bay. The lines under her eyes had deepened with fatigue.
‘What’s the plan when we disembark?’ Aisha asked.
Maryam bent to pet Mira. ‘I am certain the captain knows more than we do.’ She straightened. ‘I will remain with you until you are safely home, then return to Gruisea.’
‘You don’t have to take me any further than this,’ Aisha said, trying to sound brave.
Maryam’s soft eyes met hers. ‘It is not safe to cross Montia by yourself.’
