“Perhaps you’re pregnant.”
His friend cast him a malevolent glare. “Don’t tempt me to feed you to the sharks.”
Keris smirked. “You sure you don’t want first dibs?”
The Ithicanians who sailed the vessel gaped at him in horror, but his bodyguards, all former Devil’s Island inmates, cast their eyes skyward at the jab. Saam looked him up and down, then said, “Nah. You’d be stringy,” then promptly vomited over the side of the boat again.
Everyone laughed, but none of the tension in the small vessel was dispelled. A year had not yet passed since the Endless War between Maridrina and Valcotta had been declared over, and now they found themselves on the cusp of another one. It was as though the world existed in a state of balance between war and peace, and when one nation found the latter, the former rose somewhere else. Though for Ithicana, it must have seemed especially ceaseless.
“We’re here, Your Highness,” one of the Ithicanians said as they navigated through a narrow gap.
Daria pointed upward and Keris lifted his face, spotting the glint of steel in the heavy foliage covering the cliffs to either side of them. He suspected that for every warrior he saw, there were ten more he did not.
The gap between cliffs opened into a large cove that Keris would never have guessed was here, the water turquoise and the beach formed of white sand. It was idyllic—although as fins passed beneath him, Keris discarded any thoughts of a swim. A few of the Ithicanians swatted gently at the sharks with as much concern as Keris might expend shooing away an excited lapdog. Then the hulls ran up on the sand of the beach.
Casting a wary glance at the water, Keris stepped out. “I’ll walk with Aren,” he said quietly to Saam. “You follow, but give me some space.”
“Her Imperial Majesty said we are not to allow you from our sight.” It was Daria who answered. “I believe her exact words were:Don’t allow him to do anything reckless.” Saam nodded in agreement.
“Zarrah will understand.” Keris didn’t wait for a response, only strode to where Aren stood, looking for all the world as though he’d been punched in the stomach and couldn’t draw breath.
Aren didn’t look up as he asked, “How did you know to come?”
“I didn’t. I met Dax in the bridge and he gave me the news. I sent him onward to update Sarhina and Zarrah.” Keris pulled off his coat and slung it over his shoulder, the humid heat gluing his shirt to his back. “As to why I was in your bridge, I came to see my niece.Congratulations, by the way. I’ve heard she inherited her mother’s looks—and with any luck her intelligence as well. She’ll make a good queen one day.”
Aren stared at the sand and then said, “Queen of what?”
All the Ithicanians within earshot paused what they were doing, their eyes turning to their king until Jor shouted, “Get about your business! Clouds are rising in the west, and I want everything safely stowed before they roll over us.”
Keris considered his next words. When he’d last been in Eranahl, tension between Aren and Ahnna had been high. Yet he knew that the siblings had once been close. Now Aren was forced to choose between war and his sister’s life. Dax had made it clear that Aren believed Ahnna was innocent. That he believed the king’s assassination was a strategy one of the Harendellian nobles—likely Alexandra—had in play in order to take power, Ahnna nothing but a convenient scapegoat, and Keris had wholeheartedly agreed. But now…Now he was much less certain.
Alexandra’s injuries were catastrophic and life altering, her accusations compelling. With Prince James and many other guards bearing witness to the attack, it was hard to argue for Ahnna’s innocence. “Have your thoughts on the situation changed now that you’ve spoken to the Harendellians?”
“I’m not giving my sister to them to execute.”
That hadn’t been the question Keris had asked, but it was answer enough.
“The situation is dire,” he said quietly, feeling dozens of eyes upon them. “But you are king of Ithicana, and your people are looking to you for leadership. You must bury your emotions and put on a show of strength while we decide our course.”
“Our?” Aren lifted his head, hazel eyes bloodshot and tired as they bored into Keris’s.
“We’re family,” Keris answered. “And allies. Valcotta is with you, and Maridrina will be as well. Ithicana does not stand alone in this.”
Emotion flickered through Aren’s gaze, and he gave a tight nod. “I’m glad you’re here. Is Zarrah—”
“She’s in Pyrinat. For her to leave right now was not wise, but she sends her well wishes along with several chests full of presents. I’m not entirely sure where my baggage was delivered, but Delia is now the proud owner of quite a collection of child-sized weapons. I suggested the girl might turn out bookish, given she’s my niece, but Zarrah only looked at me like I was the purest form of stupid.”
The corner of Aren’s mouth turned up. “Zarrah is well, though? You’re both well?”
“Yes, we are very well.” A partial truth, but Keris had no intention of dumping his woes on Aren in these circumstances.
His friend’s eyes narrowed. “I do have spies, you know. What is it now—six attempts on your life?”
Keris crossed his arms. “People have been trying to kill me since I was a child, so that’s nothing of note.” Which was true, but there was no denying that not everyone had wanted an end to the Endless War, and having a Maridrinian—and a Veliant, no less—married to the empress did not sit well with them.
“You and Lara are two peas in a pod in your assessment of personal risk.” Aren shook his head. “Stay as long as you like.”
This had been meant to be a social visit. Short and filled with food and family and laughter, because God help him, Keris had sworn he’d never put armor back on again.
