“Oh, he has rooms . . . I believe on the next level.”
Not near mine then. Good.
I followed Lord Briscalar up the narrow staircase to the deck, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and dread. The emerald gown swished around my ankles, the fabric cool against my skin. Farris trotted behind me, his silver fur glistening in the early morning light streaming in through the open portholes on the landing.
As we stepped out onto the deck, the briny tang of the sea air hit my nose.
Someone had tried to kill me, and Lord Briscalar appeared to have brushed it aside as easily as a speck of lint on my dress. How often did someone try to murder a member of the royal family?
“Please stop worrying,” he whispered. “Smile. Wave to whoever looks your way. This is your first chance to shine as the court’s new queen, and you want to make a good impression.”
Yeah, being taken off the ship in a casket might give the wrong impression.
But I did as he asked, lifting my arm whenever someone standing on the pier or on shore glanced this way.
The ship had docked, and the crew hurried about, securingropes. The windrams were released, their duty complete, and they flung themselves over the side of the ship, creating big splashes, and disappearing into the water.
I peered around, my gaze wandering over the busy port town. Buildings constructed of stone and wood marched along neat streets on the gentle slope leading away from the shore, their steeply pitched roofs gleaming with morning dew. People strode here and there, their voices a distant buzz that mingled with the cries of small lavender birds circling overhead.
A hand on my shoulder startled me, and I turned to find Merrick there. His eyes held excitement, and a smile teased across his mouth. He leaned in and placed a kiss on the nape of my neck, his arms sliding around my waist to pull me against his chest.
A simple gesture, yet it sent a jolt of desire through me. As if trained, my body responded to his touch. I leaned into him, closing my eyes. A twinge of guilt gnawed on the edge of my soul. How could I stand here, savoring his embrace, when last night, I'd ground myself against Lore?
My eyes snapped open.
“My king, if you will. I need a moment of your time.” Lord Briscalar urged Merrick to leave me, walking a short distance away. They spoke in voices too low for me to overhear, though I knew what the lord must be telling my husband.
A growl rumbled through Merrick's chest, and his eyes darkened. He scanned the deck, his gaze sharp, as if he could single out the would-be culprit among the crew. “Bring them all to the castle.” His voice didn't rise above a whisper, yet it carrieda weight of command that left no room for argument. “Even the kitchen staff. I'll discover who's behind it.”
Lord Briscalar bowed deeply. “Of course, my king. Or, if it’s alright with you, I'll attend to this personally.”
“Do what you must,” Merrick said.
The lord strode away, issuing orders to a couple of burly sailors who immediately set off toward the ship's galley.
Merrick returned to my side, his hand finding mine and giving it a squeeze. His smile remained in place, but his eyes held a steely edge that reminded me of the ruthless efficiency he’d used to “handle” the sailor. A predator lurked beneath his kingly demeanor.
His gaze traveled the length of me, taking in the elegant lines of the emerald gown, the way the fabric hugged my curves and shimmered in the morning sun.
“You’re stunning,” he said, his voice lifted with pride. His fingers gently brushing the emeralds encircling my neck, and wherever his fingertips randomly touched my skin, it flamed. “Are they from the estate?”
“No, my king,” Lord Briscalar said, rejoining us. “Remember? You left them in my quarters with a note stating you'd like my lady to wear them today. I will say, as always, you have impeccable taste.”
Merrick's expression cleared, and he chuckled. “Ah, yes, I forgot. They're perfect for you, Reyla. As perfect as you.”
As he led me to the side of the deck, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that Merrick hadn't left them for me at all.
Lorehad.
25
REYLA
As the sailors moved around the deck, getting ready for our departure, Merrick urged me to the rail to wait. The morning sun cast a warm glow over everything and gave the view an almost ethereal beauty that stole my breath.
“What do you think of Evergorne, Fawn?” Merrick asked, his voice soft yet filled with a quiet pride that resonated deep inside me.
“Fawn feels . . . tame, don't you think?” I glanced his way before studying the worn rail beneath my fingers. How many journeys had this ship made and how many with Merrick and Lore?
