But no Matt. Where was he? Didn’t he know that they were leaving?
The boat hit the water with a splash. Tristan raised his chin and grunted as Val handed her the thick cloak she’d worn before, and she pulled it on while the others called out their greetings.
Tor led the way over the rail and down a narrow ladder to the lurching boat as the others began to follow.
Alanna stepped forward and pushed a heavy folded cloth into her hands. “This is for you.”
“What is it?” Lucilla moved to open it and look, but Alanna covered her hand with her own and smiled.
“It’s a gift. Something I made for you. Keep it folded until you’re at the temple.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Somehow, she’d thought Alanna would be with them, safely away from the ship.
“No. I don’t want to do anything that might hurt your claim. We’ll join you later; I promise.” She turned and winked at Val, who was frowning next to her. “Anyway, this is fun.”
Gods. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t think of one single thing. How could she possibly leave these people to fight for her?
Alanna reached over and wrapped her arms around Lucilla’s shoulders to whisper in her ear. “You can do this.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t enough, but it was all she could think of.
She ran her gaze across the deck again. Where the hell was Matt?
“Okay, bye, Lanni. See you soon,” Nim said to Alanna before turning to Lucilla. “You climb down, and then Tristan and I will follow.”
She took a step forward and then stopped. This was all happening too quickly. And they couldn’t go yet anyway.
“Coming around!” a male voice boomed from the helm.
“We need to go, Your Majesty. Right now,” Tristan ordered in a rough voice.
“But… I….”
“Right now.”
She knew that they had to go. She did. But surely…. She looked at Tristan, confused. “What about Matt?”
It was hard to tell in the dim light, with the ship lurching beneath her feet, but she would have sworn that Tristan’s gaze softened even as emerald-green scales flickered up his neck.
Tristan opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again as a gleaming figure swathed in white armor strode forward from the forecastle deck, his arms rippling in burgundy-and-gold scales. “I’m here.”
“Thank the gods.” She let out a relieved breath. “I was getting worried.”
Mathos gave her a small smile, but she noticed it didn’t reach his eyes. And his beast was rumbling again—but this was no contented purr. It was a half-feral growl, only just audible above the crash of the waves and the groaning of the ship.
“Matt?” she asked uncertainly.
He stayed just too far back to reach as he bowed his head and then slowly lifted it to meet her eyes. “Goodbye, Queen Lucilla.”
What? That didn’t make sense. It couldn’t even be possible. He had told her he would be with her as she took her throne. And if he wasn’t coming, he would have been the one to wake her. Said goodbye properly, in private, not here on the deck in front of the entire ship.
Wouldn’t he?
“I don’t understand. You… I….” Lucilla stumbled as the ship swayed, and Tristan put out a strong hand to hold her. Tristan, not Mathos.
Mathos stared down at her, not speaking, as the grumble of his beast grew even louder.
Eventually Tristan grunted. “Mathos is joining the warriors on board,” he explained in a low voice. Tristan’s expression was stern, angry even, but his eyes were kind. “The plan is to ensure that Dornar sees him, which should keep him focused on theStarand not on you.”
