His hat.
The very hat he lost when he dragged me from the Sea of Renewal. I don’t hesitate and slip down the rocks along the edge of the bay until my feet sink into damp sand, cold water rushing over my ankles. I reach down and lift the hat from the surface, water streaming from its brim as I turn it over in my hands.
The leather is rough beneath my fingers, worn by the water and the salt, marked by its time in the sea. But it still maintains its shape nonetheless. At the front, a golden metal emblem is stitched into it, dulled slightly by the elements. Two crossed swords appear to slice through a skull.
“That’s mine,” he says behind me with a breathy, disbelieving laugh. He rushes to retrieve it from me, arm outstretched and waiting to snatch it from me.
I spin around and clasp the hat behind my back, out of his reach.
“But I found it,” I shoot back. “What is the pirate saying again? Take what you can and give nothing back, right?”
He glares at me, exhaling through his nose. The frustration is written all over his face, and I enjoy the sight of it, devour it even. That smile finds my lips again.
“You have no use for it,” he says, extending his hand further toward me, palm open.
“I can wear it, ” I counter, lifting my chin.
He steps forward.
I step back.
I don’t want to give it to him. I don’t even want to wear his stupid hat. I want this one small victory after he just spied on me without shame.
“Fine,” he says eventually, exhaling and rolling his eyes. “But I wouldn’t wear it in front of the crew. They’ll either think something is happening between us or that you mean to assert dominance. One of which is sure to result in them throwing you overboard. Now, come.”
He nods toward the Noctis, visible beyond the curve of the bay. At the mention of something between us, heat flares up inside me and rushes straight to my cheeks. Either he pretends not to notice this, or he simply doesn’t care. He doesn’t react at all. Instead, he turns and starts climbing the slick rocks with an effortlessness I can only envy.
I curl my fingers around the soaked hat and follow him back up along the rocks and onto the dock. The Noctis waits ahead of us, lines drawn tight and the crew readying the ship for our departure.
Sable boards first. I stop at the foot of the plank.
He doesn't look back right away. Only when he reaches the top of the gangplank does he turn to me. For a moment, I let myself stand there. The island at my back. The sea at my side. The ship in front of me. Sable in front of me.
I draw a breath and set the hat on top of my head, then step onto the plank. The wood creaks beneath my weight as I walk up to the ship and toward him without a word, pausing for a brief moment when I reach his side. From the corner of my eye, I can see a smile tugging at his lips.
“Looks better on you anyway, little fish,” he whispers into my ear. I roll my eyes and continue walking further onto the deck.
I do not look back, but I don’t need to know his eyes are on me anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Two
TheNoctisgroansinanticipation beneath my feet.
Sable is at the helm.
There is nothing uncertain in the way he carries himself there. There’s no hesitation in his body, his voice. He has certainly snapped back from the version of himself that lost control and loosened the strings of my bodice in considerable time. He holds the wheel as it belongs in his hands, shoulders squared and gaze fixed ahead.
I move along the boards toward the quarterdeck, keeping close to the railing. As I pass behind him, Sable glances over once.
“Cast off,” he says in a steady voice.
The command cuts clear through the noise of the harbor. The lines slip free, one by one, until the dock pulls away in a slow, reluctant farewell.
“Easy,” Sable adds, already adjusting the wheel. “Don’t grind her on the rocks.”
A sail snaps open overhead, catching the wind. The Noctis leans, then steadies, her bow turning away from the harbor mouth.
Saint’s voice rises from midship, barking at two men still hauling the last of the timber aboard. Someone laughs. Others curse under their breath.
