I turn, holding the gemstone against the folds in my dress, wishing I had the right angle to drop it into my pocket without being obvious.
The twinkle in Nik’s eyes doesn’t let on to how long he’s been standing there. He’s fully dressed and clean-shaven, shoulders square and hands on his hips.
“I promise I didn’t stalk you to hassle you about kisses again.”
“Mm-hmm, that’s what they all say.”
A blush rises so quickly on Nik’s cheeks that I know he’s immediately wishing he hadn’t shaved before the sun. “I truly am sorry. It’s none of my business.”
I smile at Nik. “Of course it’s your business—you’re my best friend.”
He takes two steps and sinks to the dock, his boots kicking over the side and dangling. I find a dry patch of wood and sit next to him.
“Some best friend I am,” he says. “Always ditching you for duty. And you can’t even talk to me about boys—one word about kissing and I become a beet-red gargoyle.”
I put my hand on his elbow and use the other to squirrel the stone into the pocket hidden in the gown’s folds.“To be fair, we are talking about your best friend kissing a cousin you treat like a brother.”
He nods. “It’s true. Why couldn’t you go for someone a littlelessclose?Say a Ruyven or Didrik or Jan?”
I can’t help it: my nose scrunches immediately. “Because Ruyven or Didrik or Jan...”believe I think I’m too good for them.
“Aren’t Iker?” Nik cocks a brow.
Now it’s my cheeks that flame up and I point to them, laughing. “This is how you look when we talk about kissing.”
Nik laughs, and just the wordkissingmakes him blush too. When our eyes meet, something about his face softens. He brushes a wayward curl away from my cheek—not in the romantic way of Iker, but in the loving way of family.
His thumb and forefinger linger in my hair, and I laugh again because I’m not sure what else to do. After the sound dies, I can’t draw in a breath. I can’t do anything but hold his eyes.
“Moving in on my territory, Cousin?”
We whip around and there is Iker, fully dressed but not clean-shaven, a ship rope spooled about an arm.
“I can’t help it if my best friend is the prettiest girl in all of Havnestad.”
Iker doesn’t laugh. His voice is as sturdy as his ship. “Wouldn’t say that too loudly—I have it on my own authority that you never want to anger a blonde.”
I force my features into an overdramatic pout. “Did someone get burned once upon a time?”
A devilish grin spreads across Iker’s lips, and that familiar joyous light winks in the icy depths of his eyes. “Yes, and it still hurts.” Then he hooks a brow. “My mother always told me a kiss can make it better.”
I get to my feet. I can still feel Nik’s fingers in my hair. “There’s plenty of time for that later.”
“There is,” Nik adds, putting himself between me and Iker. “Now, let’s get back to work. Your ship won’t prepare itself.”
“That’s rich, given you were the one to walk down the dock and not come back.”
“Where are you going?” I ask suddenly, worried that Iker might be about to leave without me.
“Father wants to take the castle workers on the steamer for the Celebration of the Sea today.”
In my sleep-deprived state and my focus on the ball, I’d forgotten about the Celebration of the Sea, the afternoon party on the harbor before the grand event. It’s fun, everyone in Havnestad with their boats anchored a little way out in the water. It manages to bring us closer to our cherished sea, and yet, looking back to the coast, we can see how beautiful our home truly is.
“Anyway,” Nik goes on, “Mother plans to have all her special guests and their minders aboard the old three-sail. And Iker doesn’t want our party to go with either.”
“Stupid as a plastered horse, that would be,” Iker grumbles.
“So we made the royal decision to take the schooner.”
