A Pirate’s Life for Tea (Tomes & Tea #2)

19. Reyna

Chapter nineteen

Reyna

N ight settled and Reyna assumed that meant a small town like Lathe would be empty, quiet. But they arrived to a welcome brigade: four constables flanking a stern-looking woman in a sheriff’s uniform. They’d barely docked—it was a lot smoother with Pil managing the sails and Rankor at the helm—when the sheriff strolled up the narrow plank like she owned the ship.

Everyone stiffened as the constables followed, but based on their silence and non-aggressive stances, they were clearly deferring to the sheriff. Even though they must work for Diarn Arlon, it was obvious who they obeyed here.

“Serina,” the sheriff said, her tone a cross between fond and exasperated. “How did I know you’d be stashing this monstrosity in my harbor?”

The constables spread out behind her. Eyeing them, Reyna rested a hand on her sword. One of them noticed and offered an amused grin. A peace offering.

Huh. Reyna’s hand fell away from her pommel, and she surveyed the sheriff instead.

The older woman was tall, imposing, with tight cornrows and umber skin brushed with bronzing powder. Her eyes were deep green, a shade much darker than Bobbie’s, but the family resemblance was obvious. Her uniform, like her daughter’s, was impeccable, tailored to perfection with a shiny golden badge on her chest. When she moved, it was with the powerful grace of an eagle in the skies.

Reyna liked her immediately.

Serina forced a laugh, her voice cracking. “W-What are you talking about, Viviana? This is my new ship. Straight from my father in Jallin.”

“Don’t pull that shit with me, kid. We all got a notice about the theft.” Sheriff Viviana jerked a thumb at the constables behind her. “Derik delivered it personally, then stuck around because we have such good booze… and even better company.”

The one named Derik chuckled, and beside him a second constable flushed red. He purposefully separated from Derik, as if distance would hide the implication.

Kianthe snorted.

Reyna perked up. “You have wine?”

Sheriff Viviana quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re Queendom.”

“Depends on the day,” Reyna replied neutrally. She’d been lulled into a false sense of security now that she and Squirrel made amends, but apparently her heritage was still the most interesting quality about her. A deep part of her soul yearned for Tawney, for people so used to blending cultures that no one cared anymore.

Viviana smirked, resting a hand on her own sword. The leather bindings were worn with use, but the blade was sharpened and polished to a shine. “Nothing nefarious intended. Just wondering if you’re any good with that blade. Bandits love camping in the wilderness north of here; I’ll happily put you to work.”

“Please don’t tempt her.” Kianthe tossed an arm over Reyna’s shoulders.

She was tempted, actually. Reyna had been handing out fake “assignments” to the bandits who visited Tawney for three seasons. She’d hidden behind a fictional boss, a leader so ruthless no one dared challenge the very idea of him.

Still, if the bandits of the Realm did answer to a leader, he’d be here in the untamed wilderness of northern Shepara.

A part of her was dying to check.

Of course, Sheriff Viviana’s eyes slid to Kianthe, and her smile grew. “You must be the Arcandor. I heard rumors that you were drifting along our shore. Pray tell, what brings someone of your stature to the humble Nacean?”

“Humble.” Kianthe snorted. “Don’t let the river hear you say that.”

“Not to interrupt, but we run a risk docking here.” Serina braced herself against her makeshift cane, glowering at the constables behind the sheriff. It was obvious what she was implying.

Derik looked hurt.

Viviana laughed. “Arlon may have fooled himself into thinking that coin is what it takes to buy loyalty, but these kids know better. No one’s spilling your location on my watch, Serina.”

“Good. Because your daughter is sleeping in my room, and she’s going to want to see you.”

At that news, Viviana’s eyes widened. “Barylea is here? After all those years she swore to ‘leave, and never come back.’ Who’d have thought?” Sarcasm tipped her tongue, and she strode past Serina towards the cabin.

Serina ducked in behind her, and they closed the door for a little reunion. It left the constables staring down the pirate crew, a tense standoff. Reyna and Kianthe stood in the center of it, and Kianthe rolled her shoulders.

“So… you said there was wine. My fiancée would love a glass or six.”

“Key!”

“I missed drunk Reyna the first time. I’m not missing it again,” Kianthe replied, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Reyna snorted.

The constables started laughing, and Derik’s partner stepped forward. “The sheriff already arranged for rooms at the local inn. Got a bar there, too, if you’d like to come along.”

Serina’s crew hesitated. Farley crossed her burly arms, stepping in front of her husband almost protectively. “How do we know you won’t shank us in the back or poison our drink? Constables haven’t exactly been kind to us lately.”

“With all due respect, we’re more concerned with the bandits than Arlon’s politics.”

The constables filed down the plank, heading confidently towards a little building lit with the cozy glow of lanterns.

Reyna shrugged, said, “Well, that’s good enough for me,” and followed.

Soon, everyone was relaxed. The bar was brimming with townsfolk who were pleased to receive Serina’s wheat shipment, which meant their alcohol flowed freely. Kianthe and Reyna secured a table as a lively jig struck up. Reyna half-heartedly gestured at the festivities. “Should we dance?”

But she was still savoring her wine, a crisp reminder of her time in Koll. They were tucked in the back corner, pressed against the wall and each other, cozy as could be. Kianthe glanced at the glass and smirked. “Maybe we just spectate.”

“Killjoy.”

“Do you want to dance?”

“Well, you’re hardly graceful enough for it. But that’s half the fun.”

Kianthe gasped, mock-offended. “I’m not graceful? Didn’t you see me diving into that river? Haven’t you seen me leaping off Visk and soaring on the wind?”

Now Reyna was having fun. A sly smile tilted her lips as she took another sip of her wine. “Sounds like the elements are graceful. All I’ve seen of you is a struggle to ride Lilac, messy footwork when you steal my sword, and—well, we’ve barely danced, but a crowded tavern wouldn’t be as easy as swaying in our bookstore late at night.”

A competitive gleam overtook Kianthe’s eyes. She stood with a flourish, sweeping her cloak behind her, then bowed over her outstretched hand.

A challenge.

Gods, it was too easy.

Heart fluttering, Reyna drained her wine and took her fiancée’s hand. They wove through the crowd to the space cleared for dancing. Rankor and Farley were locked shoulder to shoulder doing some sort of odd jig, which Reyna vaguely recognized as a Leonolan step dance. Everyone was clapping along—no one noticed the Arcandor and ex-Queensguard taking position in the back.

The music was fast, and Kianthe thread her arms around Reyna’s waist. “You ready?”

“Ready to have my toes stepped on, perhaps.” Reyna draped her arms over the mage’s shoulders.

Kianthe gasped in offense, and they were off.

It wasn’t pretty, but just by virtue of leaping and twirling, excitement bubbled in Reyna’s chest. The music swelled across the room and once people realized they’d joined in, the crowd pushed back to give them space. And to her credit, Kianthe wasn’t bad—she led Reyna through a simple set that had the bystanders cheering in delight.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” Kianthe gasped after the song ended.

Reyna smirked, shifted her stance so she was leading. She took Kianthe’s hands, stepped back a bit, and when the next song struck on the fiddle, Reyna didn’t move.

Kianthe paused, panting for breath, eyes widening as the song slipped past and time seemed to still. On the eighth beat, Reyna raised her hand, pulling Kianthe’s in a matching pose, and then twisted around her, fingers trailing along her shoulders, twirling her effortlessly. The music threaded through her veins, ignited her brain—after all, dancing was just like sword fighting at its base level.

And just like on the battlefield, Reyna had no trouble leading her partner.

Kianthe wanted to write, but this was storytelling. In Reyna’s mind, the world faded to the two of them, and it became a representation of their life to this point. It started out dangerous, jerky movements and never-ending speed. Life in the Grand Palace, life on the move. Then she pulled Kianthe close, so their noses were almost touching, so their breaths intermingled—the moment of truth.

I like books. You like tea.

Care to open a shop and forget the world exists?

Reyna paused, pressing a gentle kiss to Kianthe’s lips, smiling against her startled expression. When she pulled back, dipped Kianthe to the ground, it was a measured motion. Slower. Contemplative. The tavern had quieted, the fiddler slowing the melody in response.

Their journey to Tawney. Perusing the barn, gaining ownership, refurbishing it into their dream shop. The entire last year settled in her mind, and she wove Kianthe through the tavern like it was the cozy barn of New Leaf Tomes and Tea.

Because that’s what Kianthe had forgotten. Dancing wasn’t just swaying to music, and fighting wasn’t just waving a sword.

They were tributes to everything that ever was, ever could be, and would never be again.

When the song ended, Reyna twirled Kianthe one last time, then pulled her close. “Still think you’re graceful, dearest?” The words were lost in thunderous applause.

The mage looked dazed, blinking as reality set back in. “Shit, Rain. We should dance more often. You can lead.”

Victory. Reyna laughed in delight and kissed her again. The dance floor was filling with drunken patrons, so they carefully slipped to the edges. Across the tavern, Viviana and Serina had joined the party—Serina was nursing a huge tankard of beer, chatting with Darlene and Joe.

Sheriff Viviana was staring right at them.

Reyna tapped Kianthe’s shoulder, gesturing at the older woman. “I have a feeling we’re being summoned.”

Kianthe groaned. “I hate being summoned.”

Viviana held open the door, and they ducked through it. Outside, it was frigid cold and snowing gently. Kianthe immediately ignited an ever-flame to clutch against her chest; she hadn’t had a chance to raid their crochet gifts, which meant she didn’t have a scarf, mittens, or her precious hat.

Reyna was not upset she’d lost that orange monstrosity.

When Viviana quirked an eyebrow, the mage huffed. “Look, just because we live in cold weather doesn’t mean I like it.”

The town was barren, and the snow muted all noise. While Tawney boasted more heavy stone accents—a nod to the quarries that littered the Queendom—as well as wooden structures favored in Shepara, Lathe seemed more focused on utilizing the heavy pine lumber that surrounded it. Buildings had dramatically sloped roofs, most likely for easy snow removal, and rounded doors. To their left in the harbor, the Knot for Sail lurked like a dark shadow, and glowing lamps illuminated the street.

Conversation continued inside the tavern, but it felt like a world away.

“I spoke with Serina. Considering my daughter’s condition and the fight that crew endured, I convinced her to stay for a week and rest.” Viviana’s voice was low and authoritative, and she put a hand on her hip, holding Kianthe’s gaze. “I heard what you did for Barylea. Fishing her out of the river, restarting her heart.” Her tone quieted. “Thank you, Arcandor.”

Kianthe shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, it’d have been more helpful if I kept her from falling overboard in the first place.” A self-deprecating laugh accompanied the words.

Reyna drew a measured breath. “Key. For the last time, you saved her. That’s the only detail that matters.”

Viviana nodded assertively.

The mage sighed, but didn’t argue.

“It’s a good idea for Bobbie to rest for now.” Reyna crossed her arms, hugging herself against the bitter wind—although it did seem like the breeze was purposefully avoiding them. Elemental mages. Handy to have around. “But I’m wondering if it’s safe to stay put for an entire week. The only way we’ve avoided Diarn Arlon the last two days is through constant movement.”

His constables—the ones not loyal to Viviana, anyway—would be patrolling the river, she had no doubt.

Viviana smirked. “Luckily, you’re in my town now. There’s an outcropping further upriver where we can stash the brigantine. Arcandor, with your magic, it shouldn’t take much effort to hide.” She waited for Kianthe to give an affirming nod before continuing. “We have plenty of room here for the crew, and the best doctor on the Nacean, thanks to the bandits here. Barylea will be back on her feet in no time.”

Well, that certainly sounded safer than traipsing up and down the river, especially with Diarn Arlon out for blood.

Speaking of. “If the crew is staying here, perhaps we should go speak with Diarn Arlon.” Reyna glanced at Kianthe.

The mage’s expression soured. “Oh, I have words for him. But it’d be difficult to get to his estate without Visk or your horse. Plus, I’d rather wait until Feo arrives; they’re going to be our winning card here.”

“Does Feo know that?” Reyna drawled.

“Well, considering that my griffon can’t speak… no. They don’t.”

“So, they’re just going to be abducted by a mythical creature and carted halfway across the Realm to solve a political battle worthy of history books?”

Kianthe rubbed the back of her neck. “Yes…?”

Reyna tilted her head skyward. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Inside the tavern, the fiddler switched to a new song, and the patrons began clapping in time with the music. The sheriff was watching this entire back-and-forth with an amused smile, and now she smoothly interjected: “Well, if you’re staying in town, I wasn’t joking about the bandit intervention. I’m certain we can keep you two busy.”

“We’re technically on our own quest—” Kianthe said.

Reyna silenced her with a hand. “I meant to ask about that, Viviana. You’ve been sheriff for a while, right? Decades, even?”

“Longer than you two have been alive, that’s for damn sure.” Viviana offered a wry smile. “Why? Here to remind me how old I am?”

Reyna chuckled, then plowed ahead: “Here to ask about a shipment. It was delivered somewhere along the Nacean River in the 741 st Year of the Realm. We believe it was labeled as a candle shipment, but what was inside was… not candles. There might have been alchemical seals on the crate.”

It was vague, an absolute longshot, but Reyna had a hunch.

And it paid off.

Viviana stiffened, hazel eyes widening. But just as quickly, she smoothed her expression, forcing a casual smile. “That was a long time ago. I’d have to explore my shipping statements; I wasn’t as diligent about records when I started this job.”

Reyna kept her expression clean, mind racing. “I see. There’s no rush; we’ll be here all week. In fact, we should probably check on Bobbie before we wind down for the night. Most of the crew is enjoying themselves, but I worry about her alone on that ship.”

Viviana let them pass. “I’ll search my records and see what I can find. Hopefully we can solve this mystery.”

“Indeed.”

Kianthe followed Reyna towards the ship, but neither spoke until they were a fair distance from the sheriff and tavern. As they stepped onto the dock, Kianthe rolled her shoulders, clutching the ever-flame against her chest. Her face was cast in harsh shadows.

“Well, that was suspicious as hells.”

“We know bandits stole the dragon eggs. We know they headed west on order from a mysterious benefactor.” Reyna paused at the ramp leading up to the ship, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “We know the shipment ended somewhere near Arlon’s estate, and we know Lathe has had a longstanding issue with bandits up north.”

“Viviana knows about those eggs.”

“That’s my theory. But to verify it, I think we’re going to need Bobbie’s help.”

And Reyna strolled up the plank onto the deck.