They fell silent for a while.
‘Are your family still safe?’ Aisha asked, looking out at the water again.
‘Yes.’ Maryam swallowed. ‘Thanks to your silence.’
Aisha didn’t say anything further.
The ship docked right before sunset. The smell of brine and wood smoke drifted up as the dockhands secured the ropes. Captain Harun disembarked briefly to speak to the harbourmaster, then returned to talk to Aisha.
‘The harbourmaster is arranging an escort for you,’ he said. ‘The pair of you wait on the dock, and he’ll come find you.’
Aisha frowned. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any coin to pay them upfront.’
Harun waved a hand in her direction. ‘That’s all been taken care of. The king more than covered it.’
Of course he had. Despite the enormous amount of anger he must have felt towards her, he had still ensured she was safe for the entire journey.
‘I will fetch our bags,’ Maryam said, disappearing.
‘There’s an inn nearby,’ Harun told her. ‘I suggest you rest there tonight and leave in the morning.’
Aisha nodded. ‘How many days is the journey to Avanid?’
‘Five to seven days, depending how long you can last in the saddle.’
She felt herself deflate. Home was still so far away.
Harun tipped his head once, then turned away, calling to the crew to begin offloading the crates.
Maryam returned a few moments later with their bags. When she saw Aisha’s expression, she asked, ‘Is everything all right?’
‘As well as a disgraced, seasick queen charged with murder can be.’ She attempted a humoured smile. ‘Let’s go.’
They disembarked, both grateful to be on solid land again.
‘Why does it feel like the dock is moving?’ Maryam asked.
Aisha’s mind went to her arrival in Gruisea months back, and her lips curved up at the memory. ‘You have to get your land legs back.’
‘My what?’
Aisha placed Mira on the ground and took one of the bags from Maryam. ‘It’ll pass.’
The harbour bustled as twilight deepened, lanterns flickering to life along the pier. The women waited together near a stack of cargo crates, cautiously watching their surroundings. Thankfully, the dockhands paid them little mind.
Eventually, a local man, wearing a Montian leather vest, approached. He had a shortbow slung across his back and a slight limp.
‘Evening,’ he said, frowning at Mira as he stopped in front of them. ‘I see you brought your own meat. We have plenty here in Montia, you know.’
Aisha picked Mira up and held her close. ‘She’s a companion animal.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘What, no dogs in Gruisea?’
‘Are you the escort?’ Maryam asked.
‘That’s me.’ He looked between them. ‘Which one of you is the princess?’
‘Queen,’ Maryam corrected, gesturing to Aisha. ‘Queen Aisha of Gruisea.’
