My head cocked. “I… I think she wants you to be nice to me.”
This time the ship crested the wave, expertly turning into the wind.
A shocked giggle trickled from my lips.
Darcke’s arms were locked around my back, his face so close I could count every angry line across his face. “Really fucking mature.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant me or the ship.
The mast groaned as she spun again, and Darcke rushed out, “Fine! I won’t make her do that again.”
The rope tethering us together tightened an inch.
There was a darkness across his face that made me look away when he spat, “And I’msorry. Good enough?”
The world grew still when Darcke turned his gaze to me. My breath stuttered when the scowl softened, then vanished entirely. “Gods, no fucking wonder she let you sail her,” he said hoarsely. “You’re each as fucking stubborn as the other.”
I was very aware of every inch where his body touched mine. From the way his eyes dipped, the look too long for me to miss, so was he.
“Was that a compliment?” I said when a different tension, although as sharp and equally dangerous as the deadly one, charged the air.
His eyes widened for the briefest second. “If you must take it as such.”
The rope fell to the ground, but his hands remained around my back.
I cleared my throat as I shook them off. “I think I do,” I said, cursing quietly when my voice sounded strangely strangled. “I’m going down.”
Darcke did nothing to stop me. Still, confusion whispered all over my skin as I inched my way down. It was also that daze that made me miss Kilia storming up to me. But as he pressed his arm into my throat and leaned his face into mine, hissing “I know your dirty little secret,” any glimmer of that sense disappeared.
Only terror remained in me, even as Fedic and Viljan pulled the twin off.
Nineteen
Darcke left me alone the next few days, and thankfully the karls were busy enough with learning how to fight aboard a moving ship that none of them bothered me much, either, apart from a few nasty glares and taunts here and there.
I spent most of my time hiding out in the stern of Darcke’s ship, avoiding everyone—especially Viljan and Kilia. Pulling my knees against my chest, I shrank into myself when the latter’s attention landed on me, his gaze hot with blame and betrayal.
He knew. He knew, and either he was going to hold it over my head, or he was going to find the best moment to reveal it to everyone so that he could watch the king and his men kill me for it, thinking Lika and the rest of my family were next.
I picked at a swirl in the plank beneath me. I wasn’t avoiding Viljan only because I didn’t want my dishonor to bleed onto him. He’d tell me we had to take care of Kilia—that there was no other way for us to survive. My nails scraped against the ship until a plank lifted, nearly smacking me in the face.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “That wasn’t fair to you.”
“Do you always talk to the ships?” Ivrenmotioned for me to move aside, and when I did, he squeezed into the spot beside me, his back against the hull.
I shrugged. “The ones who understand me.”
He touched his shoulder to mine. “Sometimes I wish they could talk back, but I also think it’s probably good they can’t. They hear too much. It would be dangerous.”
My eyes stared, unseeing, ahead as I replied, “Do you keep secrets, Ivren Solsken?”
“No more than you.” There was a grimness in his tone that surprised me, but he was all smiles when I turned his way. “Have you thought more about your iron-bound?” he asked when I remained silent.
My eyes drifted to Viljan. He pretended not to be looking our way, but he was. His back was twisted at an angle to eavesdrop, and his face was turned in hope the wind would bring our words to him.
“Viljan will be my second,” I said. “I don’t yet know who I’ll choose apart from him.”
“The choosing is tomorrow, Elvara.” Ivren turned to look at me. “There isno oneelse you could consider?”
