Brint recovered first, head whipping back toward Calya. “What have I been doing, Calya?”
Anadae’s appearance was enough to dampen some of Calya’s fire. It made her pause long enough to realize the trap in Brint’s words.
She ignored the men, instead going toward her sister. “Anadae, what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you.” Anadae’s gaze flitted between Calya and the men. “What are you arguing about?”
“They think I need a babysitter to go to the Landing with the Sentinels.”
“We don’t know the Sentinels,” Wembly clarified.
“I have business out there, too.” Brint’s chin jutted out, a mulish look on his face.
“I see,” Anadae said calmly. “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” She held Calya’s gaze. “Even if that means some compromises.”
Compromise. Twenty-seven years in the world, and the word had yet to grow on Calya. But Anadae took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Or maybe it was a warning. Either way, it asked silently for trust.
Begrudgingly, Calya relented. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”
Two hours later, Calya walked with her sister to the door of Helm Naval’s headquarters.
“I can’t believe you talked me into letting that fucking doorknob come,” Calya muttered.
Anadae snorted. “You can’t stop Brint from traveling everywhere.”
“No, but I could’ve at least not let him on my fucking ship.”
“I don’t like it, either,” Anadae admitted. “And I’m surprised Mr. Wembly is so forgiving, though if Brint’s telling the truth and his father really is letting him start at the bottom…” She shrugged.
“He’s worked with Daddy Avenor often enough over the years. I suppose seniority rules.” Calya wrinkled her nose.
For all her griping, it could’ve been worse. Anadae had mediated the compromise, helping convince Wembly that Calya had the authority to travel pursuant to Helm Naval interests. He was able to pull rank and insist on heightened security measures, though Calya disagreed with there being an actual need. She’d have to break the news to Malek’ko that only one Sentinel would be allowed as a representative for Sylveren, which she imagined would go over poorly. But, though she had to allow a contingent from Avenor Guard for security, she’d been successful in lobbying for Lieutenant Orren’s squad to be the chosen ones.
Which suited her much better than having some Wembly-appointed babysitter or a pack of hounds loyal to Brint. Orren wouldn’t try to micromanage her, so Calya would be free to investigate why Brint continued to be such a thorn in her side. And oh, how she intended to. She couldn’t take over Helm Naval if their disastrous joint protection deal kept popping up.
“I had better pay Malek’ko a visit,” Calya said. She could’ve sent word with a page, but the changes to their travel itinerary were not suggestions, and she wasn’t one to hide behind paper to convey disappointments.
“I’ll do it. I need to finish making arrangements at the school, anyway.” Anadae pulled Calya into a hug. “We’re not letting them win. Be ready to go at the dawn sail.”
“We? The dawn… What?” Calya blinked. “Sister dearest, what are you plotting?”
“Yes.” Anadae winked at her before stepping out into the rain. “The dawn sail. Don’t be late.”
Calya watched until her sister disappeared around a curve in the road. A smile twitched across her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this kind of excitement—the last time Anadae had felt like a partner in business. Temporary business; Calya held no illusion that Anadae would come back to HNE. But the heady feeling rushing through her was welcome nonetheless.
No, Brint and Wembly hadn’t won. Far from it.
Closing the door, Calya went back up to her room to pack.
Chapter Six
Calya stood under the dock’s covered waiting area, watching as the last of the supplies for the trip were loaded onto the ship. Anadae was already aboard, checking over a set of trunks, each emblazoned with the Sylveren University crest of a snowcapped mountain above an open book. Her partner, Ezzyn Sor’vahl, third-born prince of Rhell and a man Calya had known in a vague sense since she was a shitty tween, stood beside her.
Ezzyn’s head was tilted toward Anadae as he listened to her speak, but his gaze kept flitting farther down the ship.
Orren’s squad of Avenor Guard personnel were already on board, and she watched as they disappeared below deck to stow their gear. Only Brint and the lieutenant remained above, standing at the railing and surveying the dock activity as they conversed. A sour look marred Brint’s otherwise handsome face.
And there’s nothing you can do about it, Calya thought, smug satisfaction filling her with warmth despite the chill air. Brint’s protesting Anadae and Ezzyn’s presence on the trip had been in vain. The university wanted them to handle delivery of a resupply for one of the research teams out in the Landing, and Avenor Guard had no grounds to take on the work. Plus, as Anadae had suspected, no one aside from Brint was interested in the diplomatic ramifications of denying a prince.
