Page 83 of Black Sea

I had to see him.

I needed to touch him, breathe in his scent, get lost in his eyes. I needed to be in his arms. I needed to feel his breath mingling with mine.

Therefore, driven by an unyielding and relentless determination, late on the fourth night, I flung open the cabin door.

The soldier with long brown hair, straight as spindles, spun around to face me, opening his shoulders wide to block the doorway and prevent my passage. “Princess,” he greeted me with a nod.

“Move,” I ordered.

“Highness,” he started, using the same condescending tone he had used for the past three nights. “The prince has instructed me to—”

“You forget that I, too, am your general, soldier,” I hissed. Then I added solemnly, “And I am your future queen.”

Despite the dim light from the hallway lantern and the smaller one in my quarters, I saw him turn pale as he swallowed.

“So, let me pass,” I told him in a nearly feral voice.

The soldier had the audacity to think about it a second too long, then stepped aside, head held high and gaze fixed straight ahead. “Forgive me, Your Grace.”

I quickly slipped out of the cabin and stealthily headed down the stairs. Standing in front of the small arched door in the hold, another guard snapped to attention and looked over my shoulder, probably expecting Araton to be with me. When he realized I was alone, concern flashed across his smooth face.

Having confirmed it worked, I straightforwardly said, “Your future queen wants to see the human.”

His amber eyes shifted toward the steps, and for a moment, I expected him to raise the alarm. Instead, he nodded curtly and opened the door for me, standing off to the side with his hands clasped behind his back.

I extended my hand with my palm turned upward. “The cell key.”

“The prince has it, Your Highness,” he replied with a hint of anguish.

I grumpily clenched my fingers, crossed the threshold, and closed the door behind me. A solitary candle near the door illuminated the humid atmosphere, which was saturated with the effluvium of saltwater, stale air, damp wood, and a faint urine stench.

Taking a deep breath, I approached the cell. In the right corner, there was a clean poop bucket. In the back corner, a bucket filled with water had a metal cup floating in it. On the left, next to the bars, stood a low cot with a cushion.

Amlach was sitting on it, with his back against the ship’s wall and one knee raised to his chest. He still wore the crimson robe but had washed away the graphite that Roxior’s servants had smeared between his eyelashes.

“We crossed the borders of the Lands of the East, did we?” he asked in a faraway voice. His gaze traveled over my navy-blue frock coat, adorned with golden seams and gold-plated buttons. “You look different.” He observed my hair, now back to its full beauty. “More . . . ethereal.” His eyes scanned my face. “Distant.”

I didn’t need to answer his question. It was clear from how my blue irises had started to glow slightly again, a sign of the elves’ supernatural nature flowing back through me in all its splendor.

“You didn’t give me the chance to choose,” I said, greatly disappointed, switching to the common tongue.

He took a deep breath and rose to his feet, walking up to the cell door. He gripped the bars and looked down at me with a somber expression. “You would never have chosen me, Elf.”

In a burst of anger mixed with pain, I took a half step forward and hissed, “You don’t know that.”

“Would you really have abandoned your people?”

I recalled the enchanting, illusory future that Roxior had made me envision to distract me from his true intentions. The days spent on the island, between the waves of the sea and the fine sand and the turquoise water surrounded by greenery.

I lowered my eyes. “I . . .”

Amlach abruptly grasped my chin to force me to look up at him. “Would you have?” he asked me vehemently. “For me?”

There was only one answer my soul wanted to scream at him. However, the heir to the throne in me strongly held me back, scolding me for my selfishness.

Furrowing my brows, I replied, “You should have let me choose.”

An emotion flickered in his gaze, but it was so brief I didn’t know how to interpret it.