The sound of a voice stops me. Then another. Allisander, for sure. I’m not certain on the other one, but I think it might be Captain Huxley. I’m frozen in place. They’re on the other side of the wall, so they’ll never see us, but I’m trembling anyway.
Quint’s hand never leaves mine. I’m gripping so tight. So is he.
I kiss him one last time, pulling his hand to my heart.
Then I find the box of matches. My hands are shaking so hard that I nearly drop them all.
Quint reaches out and steadies me, his fingers supporting mine. “For Kandala,” he says.
I nod. “For Kandala.”
Then I strike the match.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Tessa
On our final morning at sea, I wake to find Corrick fully dressed and laced into his boots before the sun has fully crested the horizon.
He’s also cleanshaven.
I put a hand against the warm smoothness of his cheek when he bends down to kiss me. “No more rebellion?” I tease.
“We’ll have enough shocking revelations for Harristan. I’ll spare him this one.”
That makes me smile. I can hear the eagerness in his tone. “How soon until we reach Artis?”
“Less than two hours.” He pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “I’m going to go up top and discuss our plans for arrival with Olive and Rocco. The ship isn’t a secret this time, so there might be a bit of fanfare at the docks when we draw near. I’ll want to be on deck so everyone can see that I’ve returned safely.” He pauses. “I’d like for you to be by my side.”
Everyone.I wonder if he means his brother.
But I nod quickly. His excitement is infectious, and my own heart thumps. “I’ll get ready right now.”
He kisses my knuckles again. “We’re almost home.”
I take hold of his hand, gripping tight. “Almost.”
For a long moment, his blue eyes hold mine. But then he gives me a nod, a quick caress of my cheek, and he’s gone.
I’m shocked by the number of people lining the docks when the ship sails close. I’ve lived in Artis all my life, and the docks have never been so crowded. I’ve never seen tents before either, but they stretch along the shore for a mile at least, and I can see more in the distance. Corrick mentioned fanfare, but there must bethousandsof people waiting on our arrival. The sun is bright overhead, and I can see guards and patrol officers moving among the crowds. No palace guards, though. No hint of blue-and-purple livery anywhere.
Corrick has been by my side along the railing, but his earlier excitement has turned into something darker. “This isn’t right,” he says.
“What’s wrong?” I say—but I can feel it, too.
“There should be palace guards here. The ship would have been spotted from Port Karenin days before we made it to the river. Word would’ve been sent to the palace.” He turns his head toward the bow of the ship, where Erik is standing with Olive. “Rocco!”
Beside us, Lochlan is also looking out over the crowd, searching for any hint of blue and purple the way I am. “Maybe the king couldn’t come?” he guesses. “Maybe something happened and he had to stay at the palace.”
Erik—well, Rocco again, returned to his palace livery—has joined us by the railing. He looks out over the crowd, too, surveying the complete and total lack of guards. “His Majesty still would have sent a contingent of guards. With crowds this big, it’s clear that your arrival was expected.”
At my side, Corrick’s expression has gone very still, very cold.
The face he used to wear when he had to do the most terrible things of all.
“Advise,” he says to Rocco.
The guardsman shakes his head. “I cannot.”
