46
Aren
Katarina had selected an islandlocated just inside Amaridian waters and well west of where the Harendellians patrolled. As though showing favor for the meeting, the Tempest Seas were entirely quiet, the wind gentle and not a cloud in the sky. Not that a storm couldn’t appear in a near blink of an eye, but Aren could not have asked for better days to travel the high seas.
Especially given Lara was with him.
“Are you feeling all right?” Aren rested his hands on the railing, arms on either side of her. Every breath he took brought with it the sweet smell of her hair, and he rested his cheek against it as he watched the waves.
“No.” Lara leaned back against his chest. “I wish the seas were wild. Then I’d at least know that the storms are protecting Ithicana while my back is turned. Harendell will take advantage.”
“She’s safe. Becca and Nana are with her, and Jor as well.” Lara didn’t like to be separated from their daughter. It had been a challenging birth, but despite being bloodied and exhausted, Lara had wanted to care for Delia herself from the very first time she’d held her. A stark difference from his own mother, who’d left his and Ahnna’s care to others. Aren had always believed that she’d done so because it was impossible to rule and parent a small child at the same time—haddefended his mother against Ahnna’s hurled accusations of neglect—but watching Lara balance both made him realize that his sister had been right. His mother had simply not wanted to be present, and his father had never been far from her side.
“I’m aware.” Lara’s tone was clipped, but then she sighed and rested her hands on top of his. “I’m sorry. I know Taryn and Bronwyn think we can trust in Katarina’s desire to outmaneuver Harendell, if not in the woman herself, but it’s hard to set aside that she was partners with my father. With him, she had free usage of the bridge, and I can’t help but think that’s her goal. Or at least, close to it.”
“I’m sure it is.” He caught sight of the island in the distance, a large Amaridian naval vessel anchored next to it. “But it won’t hurt us to hear what she says. If nothing else, it will satisfy my curiosity—I’ve never been face-to-face with her before.”
Lara made a soft humming noise that was neither agreement nor disagreement, and not for the first time since Taryn had returned, he felt the weight of the unspoken question between them: How far were they willing to go to protect Ithicana?
How low were they willing to stoop?
And would his people accept allying with a ruler who’d actively tried to destroy them before?
They drew closer to the island. It was small, the center of it thick with jungle but the beach wide and white, gentle waves rolling onto shore. On the center of the beach a large blanket was spread, and sitting on it was an old woman with a young girl having a picnic beneath sunshades held by servant women. Soldiers watched over them from afar, all armed to the teeth, but they seemed relaxed and their numbers were as promised.
Sails were lowered, then the anchor rattled its way down.
Unlike the Amaridians, Aren’s soldiers seethed with tension as longboats were lowered, and sweat dripped down Aren’s spine as he debated just what Queen Katarina would ask for in this idyllic scene she’d painted.
He helped Lara into a longboat, the light breeze catching at the blue silk of her dress and sending it swirling up, revealing golden sandals adorned with pearls. Her hair was long and loose, the only jewelry a pair of sapphire earrings that Zarrah had sent along with all of Delia’s gifts. Beautiful as she was, his wife needed no more adornment to look like a queen.
Waves and oars brought them swiftly to shore. He stepped out into the shallow water and then reached into the boat to scoop Lara up. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your fancy footwear,” he murmured, setting her down on the dry sand.
“Liar,” she replied. “You were counting how many knives I have under my dress.”
“Three.”
Lara sniffed. “Five. But two of them would have necessitated you getting somewhat more handsy than is appropriate on a beach with the queen of Amarid watching.”
“I’ll find them later.”
Lara shot him a smile, but he saw the nerves in her azure gaze as she took his arm. Together, they strode toward Katarina, their guards matching the distance the Amaridian soldiers had given their queen.
As they drew closer to the picnic, Aren took in the queen who had caused him so much trouble over the years. He knew her to be near sixty years of age, but with her gaunt face and heavy wrinkles, she seemed closer to seventy. Her hair, wrapped in a tight knot behind her head, had likely once been red, but it was now so mixed with white that it looked almost pink. She was extremely short of stature and painfully thin, her subdued blue dress covering her from neck to practical leather shoes. She wore large diamond earrings that made her earlobes sag, and her smile revealed teeth gone to rot, several of them missing. Age took a different toll on everyone, but on Katarina of Amarid, the toll had been steep.
Yet the dark eyes that fixed upon him were sharp as tacks, so he would not make the mistake of believing her mind equally diminished.
“Welcome,” she said, voice soft. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Aren.”
“Katarina.”
Amarid’s queen looked Lara up and down. “Every bit the beauty I was told. Please, sit and join us. We were enjoying the sea breeze.”
Aren held Lara’s hand as she lowered herself to the blanket and tucked her feet beneath her, adjusting her skirts as she did to keep the knife strapped to her calf from showing. He sat cross-legged next to her, the position feeling awkward for the magnitude of this meeting.
“This is my granddaughter, Nina.” Katarina gestured to the pretty young girl next to her wearing a white dress. She had dark red hair and dark eyes that were as sharp as her grandmother’s. This was the Beast of Amarid’s eldest daughter.
“Your Graces.” The girl inclined her head. “It is an honor to meet you both.”
