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I wring out my braid. “That was payback for scaring me.”

“Then we’re even.” She rests her head back against the ledge, and I swim to the opposite side, finding a curve in the rock wall to sit on.

The lip between the pool and the drop-off is so narrow that I fold my forearms on it and feel as though I’m floating right over the land beneath. Water spills over the side, falling into a stream that runs out to the sea. Small, cloud-like animals roam on the nearby bank, grazing on the grass.

Sheep. That’s what they’re called. Precious things.

Darcy slides closer but keeps an arm’s length between us. “This is my secret spot. It’s where I come when I want to break away from the pressures of life and family.”

My smile drops. Those are the exact words she said to me the first night we met in our cove. That was her secret spot, her sanctuary. “It’s so lovely.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “I wanted to bring you here as an apology for what happened a few nights ago in the library. It seems I misread your intentions. I regret making you uncomfortable.”

“It’s ok. I thought I wanted to kiss you.” It shouldn’t feel wrong to admit that to my betrothed, but it does. I can’t stop thinking about how Zephyr was present a few minutes ago.

I’ve always been self-conscious about them listening in. Maybe that’s why I don’t want them to overhear that confession.

“You thought you did?” Her eyes are sad, but her lips curve into a weak smile. “I think it will be better for the both of us if we keep the terms of our arrangement platonic, as we discussed.”

“Is this because of your vow to never touch someone you could love?’ I ask, squeezing my eyes to block out the memory of her tugging on my robe. “I fear you’re going to be a problem,” she said.

“Will it make you feel better if I admit it?”

“No.” I don’t want her heart anymore. Not after what she did to mine.

“Then we’ll leave at that.” She submerges herself up to her chin. “We can be friends and the two best duchesses the island has ever seen. But please, don’t tempt me with anymore midnight visits unless there’s an emergency.”

I hold up my hands to shield myself from the water she flicks at me. “Understood.”

“There are only a couple more days left before our expedition to fetch the dragon.” She stands up on the makeshift bench, her thin blouse adhering to her lean muscles. “Let’s spend an hour not worrying about anything.”

With that, she flops onto her back, and I mimic her, floating with my face toward the sky. We swim around, not talking much about anything.

It’s nice, relaxing like this.

But I don’t let myself slip back into a familiar fantasy that my sweet sailor is buried somewhere deep beneath Darcy’s exterior.

That woman doesn’t exist. She never did.

My guard will always stay up around her, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t notice. It’ll be easier to have her ear if she thinks I’m pleased by her small acts of kindness.

“I brought linens and a dry chemise,” she says as I pull myself out of the pool, my fingers pruney.

I hug the side of the bluff as she takes me to a stone staircase that leads back to the moor. We change back into the dry clothes packed in her bag, and I snuggle into my warm coat, happy for the linen wrapped around my wet hair.

We eat sandwiches and share ale straight from the canister as the stars come out. The recent storm swept the clouds away, clearing the sky.

I trace the constellations I can name, and Darcy lies back, occasionally correcting me.

“Eleven, twelve, thirteen maidens.” I count the thirteen stars representing the Moon Goddess’ original coven. “It’s rare to see all of them.”

Darcy responds with a snore.

She’s lying on her side, her fingers curled under her chin. I should probably wake her up. The handler will be waiting with the carriage.

But looking at the hangnail moon makes me melancholy in a way that’s almost comforting, like I’m sitting with an old friend. She’s watched me make peace with my circumstances before. Following her light kept me alive when I was swept away in the storm that killed my mother.

Waves crash in the distance. Someday I’ll stop expecting to hear them whooshing in my ears. I’ll get used to the constant humming and high-pitched noises on land.