“I’m doing my job,” he gritted out.
“Which is?”
“Keeping you safe.”
There. Sandro was in danger, and my parents were worried that my association with him would put me in danger as well, and obviously, Rennie was my bodyguard. It was another reason not to reveal what Mr Marston had told me. I didn’t want to accidentally put Sandro in further danger if his enemies were hunting him. I stepped away from Rennie and fiddled with the hem of my bodice, just to have something to do. The scar on my wrist pricked, as if in warning.
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he repeated. “Will you let me protect you?” The way he asked that, with his thick eyelashes lowering over his emerald eyes, softened my resolve.
“You don’t need my permission.”
“I do.” He frowned, his hand caressing mine for a brief moment.
I exhaled. “Very well. If you really want an answer, I’d say yes. I’d be honoured to be protected by you.” I meant it. My parents had chosen him, after all.
His shoulders sagged, but he narrowed his gaze, as if he weren’t convinced I was telling the truth. As an awkward silence stretched between us, we didn’t move away from each other; our bodies were still close enough to touch.
I averted my gaze and slipped away from him. “I wish to go back to my cabin now.” Without waiting for him to say anything, I marched towards my room.
THE EFFECT OF the green potion wore off when Portugal swept into view on a clear morning. I was torn between suffering in silence and waiting stoically until we touched land, hoping the nausea would pass, or begging Rennie for another dose.
After our argument on the deck, we hadn’t talked much. But I didn’t want to meet Sandro while feeling sick. Also, I had to find a way to roam Lisbon alone because Rennie was going to follow me. Yes, I’d told him I agreed to have his protection, but I was free to choose when and where I wanted to be protected, wasn’t I? And he would either stop me from seeing Sandro or come with me. No, thank you. I wanted answers.
As the hilly coast of Portugal became more visible, I held my breath. The wind caressed my cheeks, carrying new scents other than the saltiness of the sea, and the air lost some of its mugginess. Passengers gathered on the deck, muttering excitedly. Tourist guides would be provided to accompany us through the city of Lisbon, and I hoped to slip away from the group of passengers. We were allowed to visit the city on our own as long as we were back on board before dark, so I wasn’t breaking any rules. My bodyguard was the problem.
Rennie stood next to me, his face a map of hard lines of worry. Despite the warm weather, he was wearing his grey suit, identical to the one my father wore to work.
I fiddled with my reticule and turned to him. “I don’t feel very well.”
He whipped his head towards me. “Do you prefer staying in your cabin? I don’t mind staying with you if you want.” Maybe it was my imagination, but there was a note of hope in his voice. “I can fetch you some tea and a book. Or ask the physician on board to have a look at you.”
If I agreed, he’d watch my every move. I had more chances of losing him in Lisbon. Although, his plan didn’t sound so terrible. A cup of tea and a good book. “No, I want to visit the city. I’d like some green potion if you still have it.”
“Of course.” He took out a vial from his breast pocket and handed it to me. “Only a small sip.”
“I know.”
The moment the green potion hit my tongue, my nausea vanished. Excitement flared up at the chance to see Sandro again and to have some answers. Energy rushed through my veins with a healthy dose of optimism. My sense of adventure grabbed me by the throat, chasing away my fears and insecurities. Yes, I could sneak away unnoticed and wander in a city I’d never been to before, filled with people who spoke a language I didn’t know, without getting lost, robbed, or killed. All to find an elusive prince, whom I wasn’t even sure was in Lisbon and who was potentially dangerous. Cup of tea. No more fear. I was a new woman. Yes, I was.
I searched the crowd of passengers for Mr Marston, but there were too many people. Rennie’s scrutiny was as thick as a blanket, but I did my best to ignore it. He could keep his secrets. I had mine.
“Better?” he asked.
I nodded, handing him the vial. I returned my attention to the sea while he stood next to me, stiff and serious. “Do you ever have a moment to rest and enjoy yourself?” I asked him, curious.
“Of course I do.”
“What do you like to do when you aren’t working?” I enjoyed the fact that, when asked questions that didn’t pertain to my parents, he answered them.
“I like sparring.”
“No? You? I would’ve never guessed,” I quipped, propping an elbow on the handrail.
He barked a throaty laugh. “And if I tell you I like whittling, would you be surprised?”
“Yes?”
“Look.” From his pocket, he fished out a few-inch-long wooden squirrel. Half of its body was still a piece of rough wood, but the details of the nose, bushy tail, and eyes were exquisite. It was hard to imagine his big hands capable of producing something so delicate and small.
