“I’m sorry, Aeriden. I was looking for you, but my circumstances changed and?—”
“And you what? Figured out how to summon dark magic?”
“I didn’t ask for this!” I shouted, my temper boiling. I willed it to cool as the rising swell of emotions built in pressure, my powers creeping toward the surface.
Aeriden blinked as he studied my eyes before I tore them away, staring at the brightly tiled mosaic on the floor.
“I don’t have time to explain everything?—”
“Then don’t explain it all,” Aeriden urged. “Just explain what Saros meant when he asked about Dad.”
Every thought eddied out of my mind at Aeriden’s question. A paralyzing stillness stole through my limbs as the words formed in my mind, locked behind my lips. A heartbeat passed. And then two.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t answer this.
Tiberius’s massive form loomed in the doorway a moment later, his huge head snaking into the small parlor as he huffed. He bared his teeth at Aeriden, flattening his ears against his head, the message clear enough.
A flood of love and forgiveness poured from my caeluma, and I cut him a grateful glance. It was enough to patch up that crack in my heart for a few moments longer.
“I’m asking for a favor,” I finally said, changing the subject. “Evony and Ezrich Hunt… They need a place to stay while I’m gone?—”
“And where are you going?”
“To Kayj, Aeriden, I’m going to an island of darkness where an evil elven king plans to take over the fucking world, annihilating or enslaving every human being in the process.”
Aeriden blinked and studied me, his eyes softening.
“Well, if that’s true, then I’m coming with you,” he said, his tone shifting into the familiar protectiveness of a brother, and for a moment, that was who he was.
I opened my mouth to respond when a knock rapped at the glass doors to the dining room.
“Milady, milord,” the lady’s maid said to the two of us, nodding her greeting. “Lord Kellan Astraeus of the Marisarma fleet.”
An irritated groan escaped my lips as heavy booted steps thumped in the marbled foyer and Astraeus swaggered into the sitting room. A wide grin stretched across his freshly manicured face. His dark beard was cropped short, and his usual unruly, braided pirate hair was washed, half of it pulled tightly back.
“Morning, Bonscaíh,” he murmured as he gave me a wink and stepped toward our small table. “Éitilte,” he said, flashing a handsome grin at Evony.
She blushed, rolling her eyes at the sea lord, but offered a small smile. Despite what she said, she loved his nickname for her: Éitilte,Little Flier, in Old Votruvian.
“Lord Cantor,” he finally said, offering a small bow to Aeriden, who eyed the pirate with equal annoyance.
“What do you want, Astraeus?” I asked.
“Touchy, this morning,” he said before reaching out to tug on my braid.
I batted his hand away as his dark brows pinched downward.
“I came to offer Lord Cantor a place on my ship should he desire to accompany us to Kayj.”
I blinked.
“You can’t,” I stammered. “Aeriden is still being tried in Sultiran court. He’ll probably be pardoned, based on the lies Saros told him, but he needs to be here for that.”
“Not if he’s a member of my crew.” Astraeus shrugged. “TheHydraand Marisarma crewmates aren’t beholden to Sultiran courts. Not if the Lord of Marisarma takes them on as wards.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms. “If he were to do that, then he’d forfeit his title asLordCantor, Sultira’s horse lord.”
Aeriden eyed the sea lord as he stood.
