Yes of course, it has always been my dream.
But it wasn’t, not really. I had never been able to put a single thought into what Iwantedto do with my life. I had become so focused on survival and keeping my secrets hidden that the thought of a dream was so arbitrary, so distant. Is that how he felt too?
A shout saved me from the truth that threatened to break free, our heads swinging to the bow of the ship. My temporary relief dissolved at the sight of Taven, a man with red hair and sunkissed skin, who had a firm grip upon Prince Kairen's collar. His mouth twisted into a snarl while his other crewmate, Kidd, stood at his back.
Roan reacted first, immediately flying down the wooden steps leaving me to chase after him, heart in my throat.
I could hear Bran, whose hands were raised placatingly with a nervous grin painting his lips. “Well this took a rather unexpected turn. Why don't we release the Prince and we can all relax—"
"Shut yer hole," Taven barked as his eyes flicked dismissively over my cousin before settling with unrestrained malice back on Kairen. “On the sea we don't take orders from royals."
Kairen appeared calm, despite the sailors hand tightening the fabric against his throat. “It wasn't an order, I was merely asking if someone could show me the maps you keep below deck."
My hands itched for my daggers, but I refrained, my nails instead cutting into my palms. There had been one rule when we had boarded the ship and that was that no one was to draw a weapon. If there was a dispute, it would be settled with fists.
I glanced towards where Antoni was watching with vague interest, Malika at his side, a wicked glint in her eyes. They were certainly going to be no help and Rena was still seemingly incapacitated where I had left her sitting earlier.
Wonderful.
I assessed Kidd, the largest of the crew for hire. He was a burly man whose arms were as thick as my head. Despite his name, I assumed he was the eldest of the crew, his long, black hair and beard streaked with grey. Taven himself wasn't small by any regard, his own body corded with muscle and scars, evidence of the years he'd spent on the ocean. Despite the two men being Solerian, they clearly held no love for Tavarrian royalty. I was beginning to wish Kairen had been far more discreet in his identity when hiring them.
"Perhaps we could—"
I too was cut off with a harsh snarl from Taven as he released Kairen with a shove and a few menacing steps in my direction. "I'm gettin' sick of hearing yer blatherin' voice, girl." His ire now turned upon me, and I stiffened. “That's the problem with you land folk, you never know when yer not wanted—"
"That's enough." Roan's voice was steel as he stepped in to block the man’s advancement, but he hesitated when I laid a hand over his arm.
"And I'm tired of you all being wretched." I matched his ire, wrath for wrath. “What exactly is your issue with us, did we somehow offend you?"
"Syra," Bran warned, his voice low with worry as he glanced at Taven, "let's not further aggravate the man built like a bear."
He wasn't much larger than Bran himself and I had spent years sparring with Bran, had held my own against Roan. I was sick of being underestimated. Raising my chin, I met Taven's ferocious stare with one of my own.
"Well?" The challenge was clear. “Do you have a reason, or have the years at sea robbed you of social etiquette?"
Bran's exasperated grunt at my words had a grin forming as my body hummed with energy, with the adrenaline that sung through my veins at the fury in the sailor’s glare.
Antoni's presence at my side had me startling as he thoughtfully tilted his head, gesturing towards Malika. "Stubborn or stupid, I suppose we shall see. Wrap her hands up, Mal."
Chapter Twenty One
"Letmefight, the dispute started with me!"
Kairen's voice was raised with frustration, a hand running through his unruly mass of dark waves. Antoni glanced at him with vague annoyance, his amber eyes glinting. "As l've said the last ten times,Prince," his voice growing cold, "The challenge has already been cast, there is no changing it."
I shifted from foot to foot as Roan wrapped the white linen securely around my knuckles and down my wrist, a padding for the skin and bones beneath. His lips were set into a thin line as he copied the action on the other side. He'd snatched the wrappings from Malika's hands with a snarl that he'd do it himself, fury lacing every taut line of his face. When he finished I flexed my hands experimentally making sure the linen was secure and tight, but gave enough flex to fight properly.
Roan stepped closer, a dark look cast towards the man whose own wrappings were nearly finished. His anger was palpable, but he hadn't attempted to dissuade me from the challenge. Hadn't offered to fight in my place as Kairen was, and I wondered if he knew how much that meant to me.
"You can win this." He was confident, despite the anger that underlined his words. A fierceness etched so deeply within him that it almost brought a smile to my face.
I nodded, shaking out my hands. “I know.”
He ran a hand through his hair, eyes distant, and I could practically see the thoughts whirling through his mind. “Use your speed to your advantage, he's large, but you're quick."
"IknowRoan—”
“His right knee is bad, he favors it by trying to keep his weight off it, use that. Also his—"
