The Zephyr surged forward, slicing through the vast blue water, sails billowing in the wind. Ahead lay adventure, danger, and the unknown. And for the first time in a long time, Mistel knew exactly where she belonged.
Right here.
With him.
Chapter 46
Kurtz
“I haven’t felt worse in all my days,” Kressy said, “but out here in the air, it’s not so bad. Least I can breathe without feeling like my insides are about to stage a mutiny. Don’t know how sailors do it every day for so long.”
Kurtz leaned against the mizzenmast as he grinned down on Lady Tara’s maid. “Ah, but you’ve got it all wrong, you do. See, sailors aren’t immune to seasickness. They’ve just learned to stagger around like drunkards so no one can tell the difference.”
Kressy laughed at this, which gave Kurtz a little thrill he hadn’t felt in quite some time. The maid had a pretty laugh—high and lilting—the kind that made a man feel clever even when he wasn’t. Not that he wasn’t.
Kressy twirled a loose thread on her apron. “Still, standing too long makes me feel like I’ve got wobbly legs and a belly full of sloshing porridge.”
“Well, if your legs give out, just make sure to fall my way, eh?” Kurtz said. “I’d hate to see good porridge go to waste.”
Kressy giggled again, and Kurtz let his grin widen just a little.
He caught sight of Zanna across the deck, watching him, arms folded, eyes sharp.
Oh, that was too good to ignore.
So he leaned in, tilting his head just so, his voice dropping into that low, easy drawl women liked. “If you need to steady those wobbly legs, you could hold onto me, you could. Fair warning, though. Pretty lass like you, I might take that as an invitation to dance.”
Kressy’s cheeks pinked, but before Kurtz could lay it on any thicker, she smoothed her skirts and stepped back. “I should check on m’lady. Good day, Master Chazir.”
“Duty calls.” He winked.
Kressy hurried toward the cabins, and as soon as she was gone, Kurtz turned back to Zanna, half expecting her to still be glaring at him.
But she wasn’t.
She had that knowing look instead. The one that struck him harder than it should and made his chest feel tight.
Memories of the tunnel slammed into him. The dark swallowing him whole. The way the walls had closed in once his lamp had sputtered out. The sick, despairing thought that maybe this time he wouldn’t make it out.
And then…The feel of her hand on his skin, the calmness it had brought, steadying his breath.
If Zanna hadn’t come looking for him…he might still be there.
Yet looking at her now made him nervous and a little out of control. He shoved off the mizzenmast and crossed the deck toward her. Just to clear the air. Nothing more.
“You didn’t have to come with us, you know,” he said when he reached her.
“Now that Prince Oren knows what happened to the prisoners and there’s a new warden, my job there is done. He sent me with you. I’m here. Better get used to it.”
Eben’s breath, she was touchy.
“About what happened in that tunnel…” He exhaled sharply. “I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.”
Zanna arched a brow. “You think I’m going to tell everyone how you lost yourself?”
Those words stung. “I didn’t lose myself. I was just…resting.”
“You were in a ball on the ground, crying.”
