Kai held a sword in one hand, and by the way he gripped it, knuckles white and forearm corded with tension, Adeline did not immediately recognise it as a practice blade; not until she noticed Simon hovering nervously behind the king, his own dulled blade loose at his side.
They’d been sparring, she realised. Simon was flushed from his face to his bare, sunburned chest, and while Kai was entirely too proper to go shirtless in open company, he’d stripped off his doublet and rolled back his sleeves, loosened his shirt so it hung open at the neck. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.But all this was nothing to the blaze of his eyes as he glared at the First Mate.
Behind him, Simon was rooted to the spot, but his eyes were wide as they flicked back and forth between Pike and the king. Kai leaned in close enough to the sailor that Adeline could see only one side of his face, but when he spoke, brows drawn in and mouth tight around every clipped word, Simon’s gaze jolted up to where Ceri and Adeline stood on the forecastle.
“I knew it,” Ceri muttered.
Adeline was barely listening. She was transfixed by that hand around Pike’s arm, fingers wide, knuckles bleached with strain, so many wrinkles fanning out in the cotton sleeve beneath his grip they became the spider-webbed lines of shattered glass.
He wasfurious.
Adeline had seen him angry before, of course; hadmadehim angry, too. Sparred with him, argued with him, coaxed him into letting his perfect composure slip, just for fun. And yet, not even when Mareda had implied treason, nor when Edward had accused him of her mother’s murder, had she ever witnessed Kai lose himself so completely.
His fist curled tighter; tight enough that Pike, broad and strapping though he was, began to shift from foot to foot, boots sliding on the damp deck as he struggled to pull back.
“Alright,” he snapped finally, panic giving such volume to that one word that every single sailor across the deck glanced up at his outburst.
Kai leaned away, a polite, satisfied smile sliding over his tensed features in the courtly mask that had become so familiar. He released Pike’s arm, smoothing out his sleeve with a brisk pat.The First Mate stood rooted for a moment longer, and when Kai finally nodded, Adeline realised he’d been obediently awaiting dismissal. Pike stormed with renewed fury toward the lower deck stairway, tucked beneath the castle on the other end of the ship. He disappeared without a backward glance.
Unmoving, Kai watched him go, hardened gaze following his path, that polite smile still frozen in place until the sailor was entirely out of sight. Then, one long breath visibly swelling through him, Kai unfurled and flexed his fingers around the hilt of his training sword. He turned back to a still-rigid Simon, one arm swept out in invitation, and the boy scurried forth to take up his opening stance across from the king. Kai turned to face him, and it was at that moment that Adeline realised she’d been watching him for far too long, because now he’d caught her. There was no pretending, not as his eyes snagged on hers, and not as she stared back, the thought of looking away barely crossing her mind. The sun was high in the sky, catching the gleam of sweat on Kai’s brow and finding kinship with the rays of gold in his hazel eyes.
Goddess, it was far too easy to find herself distracted by eyes so pretty.
It went on for far too long. Neither of them seemed to have the slightest notion what to do, now that they were trapped in each other’s sights. As if independent of her body, Adeline’s hand rose up her side, and she was horrified to find herself giving a limp, awkward wave. Something rippled across Kai’s features, too fast for her to catch; it did not seem to be a smile. His throat bobbed, and then his hand came up to mirror her own in a brief, cursory wave before he dropped his eyes to the deck. With an abrupt bow to Simon over his sword, he returned his attention to his training.
A small mercy, really. Yet somehow, Adeline couldn’t find it in herself to feel grateful.
A pointed cough at her side sent Adeline spiralling back to her senses so fast she physically recoiled. Ceriwyn was staring sideways at her, something unreadable twisting at her lips.
“What?”
The merrow girl raised her eyebrows meaningfully, eyes widening with some unspoken plea.
“What?” Adeline said again, perhaps a little tersely.
Ceri heaved a sigh that was almost a groan, but all she said was, “We both know my brother would kill me if I asked.”
Adeline’s gaze bounced away, landing safely on the two men below with their focus too fully absorbed in their swordplay to notice. She watched as they broke apart, Kai releasing Simon from a hold and stepping back to resume his starting position. He paused to lift the hem of his shirt and swiped it briefly across his brow, the lines of his abdomen tensing with the movement.
Adeline swallowed hard, looked away—and found Ceri still watching her, smirking now. She turned from the railing, stooping to snatch up her book as she strode across the forecastle.
“Then don’t ask.”
And to Ceri’s credit, she did not.
Chapter Five
Kai
The crossing had been long and tedious—painful, in more ways than one.
Kai’s back ached, his arms still faintly red with rope burn from the threadbare hammock he’d found in the cargo hold. He’d slept there for most of the journey over the Common Crossing, with only a few nights to spare before Simon eventually found him out.
“It’s freezing, Your Majesty,” the boy had said, the incredulous pitch of his voice the closest he’d dare come to scolding. He’d gestured around at the large wooden crates stacked two apiece throughout the hold. “They’re shipping Machullice. You can’t sleep in here!”
Kai hadn’t bothered to point out that hehadbeen sleeping there, nor that he’d spent much longer in much colderconditions. A few nights surrounded by boxes of enchanted ice wasnothingto his six hundred years of slumber in a frozen lake. But he’d let Simon lead him to the broom-cupboard-sized cabin the boy had been assigned, and drew a firm line at taking his bed. He’d spent the remainder of his nights upon theArabidaesleeping on the soggy floorboards below Simon’s cot; to the boy’s credit, itwasslightly more comfortable. Either way, his shoulders were still as knotted as that damned hammock, even several days later.
So despite the little seed of dread that had been unfurling within his stomach—nourished by his lack of sleep until it was a lush and blooming anxiety—he found he was glad when they finally spotted a craggy mass of green in the distance. At least he was that bit closer to sleeping in a real bed.
