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

21. Reyna

Chapter twenty-one

Reyna

I t was a two-day ride north to where Viviana left the dragon egg. After the snow, it should have taken three, but traveling with Kianthe meant the only thing that slowed them down were their borrowed horses. Considering Lilac’s personality, these two were absolute delights, but Kianthe was clearly itching to reunite with Visk.

“Stone be damned, we could have done this in an afternoon if we were flying,” she muttered.

“You’re the one who sent our griffons to kidnap Feo, darling,” Reyna reminded her. Not that Ponder would have been much help here, but still. A deep ache settled in her chest; the reprieve from Ponder’s antics was nice, but Reyna missed her feathery child.

Kianthe glowered, hunching further under heavy winter cloak. “They aren’t being kidnapped . They’ll get on Visk willingly.”

“Because they’ll think we’re in danger, and a griffon can’t communicate how far they’ll be flying.” Reyna laughed. She was rather enjoying this little excursion; after so many days on a ship with their new friends, it was nice to be back traveling alone with Kianthe again.

It was no surprise why her fiancée was pouting. It was frigid here, rivaling Tawney’s temperatures without any of the warm company and cozy bookstore aesthetic. The wind wasn’t strong, considering the mountains that flanked them, but the ice along the river didn’t help warm anyone.

The Nacean River itself tapered away this far north, separating into multiple smaller streams gathering from the mountains. They followed the largest one, keeping a steady pace as Kianthe glumly sifted snow out of their path.

“We could be sitting at a vineyard in Koll right now.”

“Hmm. But where’s the adventure in that?” Reyna teased.

They rode on.

When the sun began to set, they made camp—which was essentially Kianthe carving a hole in the mountainside. She started a fire while Reyna tethered the horses. Firelight caught her gaze further downhill, along the western slope.

“I suppose we found the bandits. I was wondering how far north they camped.”

It looked like a huge gathering of them. Distant music had struck up, nearly swallowed by the gentle snowfall, but the fire from their torches blazed in the darkness of night. Kianthe paused beside her, squinting at the camp.

“Please tell me you aren’t planning on disrupting their party.” She produced Reyna’s chosen hat, the deep blue one, and gently undid Reyna’s bun. With her long, ice-blonde hair falling over her shoulders, Kianthe tugged the hat onto her head.

Reyna sighed. “Why does everyone think I live my days dreaming of murder?”

Kianthe gestured at her, a fond smile tilting her lips. “It’s a whole vibe. Don’t pretend like you don’t carefully foster it, either. I notice that sword hasn’t left your side since we left Tawney.”

“I keep my sword nearby because the Realm isn’t as safe as Tawney, and I’m not one for chances. But no, I don’t particularly care to attack a camp of people living their lives in the wild north.” Reyna strolled back towards their own camp, sitting close to the fire. Kianthe paused to magically dust the ice off a luscious patch of grass, and then joined her, tucking herself under Reyna’s arm.

“I think it’s sexy,” Kianthe said after a moment.

Reyna laughed. “You think everything is sexy.”

The mage rested her head on Reyna’s shoulder. “Guilty. Remember when I got you that moonstone?”

Reyna had barely needed to use hers lately, but she wore it regardless: a physical reminder of Kianthe’s devotion. Now she tapped it, knowing the touch transferred to Kianthe’s matching necklace. “Are you referring to the day I fainted in front of you while on duty, or the first time you told me you loved me?”

“The day you fainted. You stood all day with that wound because you wanted to prove you were good at your job. Right?”

It wasn’t Reyna’s proudest moment. She sighed. “That’s true.”

“That’s what I think is sexy. Not the stupidity of working while bleeding out, mind you, but the dedication you showed. You’re good at the things you’re good at, and I love that about you.”

Reyna’s cheeks warmed. “Thank you.”

Kianthe smiled. Her fingers began tracing a light circular pattern on Reyna’s leg, the touch so feather-light it sent a shiver along her skin. “I appreciate that you’re here, Rain. The dragons aren’t your problem—not really—but you never once asked to stay home.”

“I’m with you through anything… and I told you before: I don’t think I’m built to live in Tawney all the time.” Reyna couldn’t keep the frustration out of her tone at that. “I want to. It’s perfect there. But fighting, traveling, meeting new people… that’s what I love. It’s not surprising, considering I was raised for it.”

Kianthe was quiet for a moment, watching the fire flickering before them, tracing that circular pattern absently. “Do you think that’s something you need to fix?”

“I think, just by virtue of marrying you, it is fixed.” Now Reyna gestured with her free hand at the cave, the horses, the stars glimmering through the dispersing clouds. “This is an adventure. And you’re here too, which makes it better than anything Queen Tilaine could offer.”

“Okay, well. Promise you’ll tell me if you change your mind. Because our life doesn’t have to be Tawney forever—I’ll take you to the Roiling Isles if that’s where you’d rather be.”

“The Roiling—” Reyna cut herself off with a laugh. “What’s there?”

“Arlon’s favorite tea, for one.”

They both dissolved into laughter.

After a moment, Kianthe untangled herself and plucked their dinner out of one of their packs, setting the strips of meat in a cast iron pan over the flame. Reyna swallowed a yawn, watching her cook, appreciating the warmth of the cave contrasting with the frigid scenery outside.

High overhead, a glimmer of blue and green glowed past the clouds.

An aurora. She’d heard of them but hadn’t seen one in person—even in Tawney, they were rare. “Key,” she gasped, stepping to the cave’s edge.

Kianthe joined her, and her fingers threaded with Reyna’s. The mage waved her free hand to magically disperse the clouds, offering them an unhindered view of the brilliant stretch of green, blue, and purple. Amazement filled Reyna to her toes; no wonder the Sheparans worshiped the Stars, if this was their view.

“No matter where the adventure is, I’m happy if you’re in it,” Kianthe said quietly.

Warmth—unlike anything a fire could create—spread through Reyna. Instead of responding, she leaned against Kianthe’s shoulder, smiling at the cold night sky.

The snow was heavier on the ground as they rode north, but at least the skies were bright and sunny now. It warmed them enough that Kianthe was even able to lower her hood, which made for a much more pleasant riding experience—actually being able to see and talk with her fiancée now.

They spent most of the morning plotting Kianthe’s new book to pass the time. She was only a few pages into writing it, but already characters had started to form: two women madly in love, but one was a pirate captain and the other her captive prisoner.

“Hmm. Do you think the prisoner would fall for her kidnapper?” Reyna’s brow furrowed. “That seems problematic.”

“Worked for me, with you.” Kianthe grinned.

Reyna raised an eyebrow. “Dearest, I was never your prisoner.”

“Really? Because I sure remember capturing your heart.” A burst of bright laughter echoed off the snowy landscape, and Kianthe slapped her knee. Reyna swallowed a heavy sigh, barely refraining from smacking the mage’s arm.

Apparently, this was the height of humor on this trip… and if that was the case, the next two days back to Lathe would be terrible.

At Reyna’s behest, they reworked the plot: the prisoner was now a captive princess, stolen for ransom. But she spent her time killing ogres—“That’s pretty mean,” Kianthe said. “Ogres are lovely creatures.” Reyna sighed and suggested unicorns, and vicious glee sparked in Kianthe’s eyes—so the princess spent her time killing unicorns, right up until the day she followed a herd too close to the ocean. The pirate captain, who sounded suspiciously like the Dastardly Pirate Dreggs, scooped her up, and thus began an adventure where the brave princess taught the cunning pirate how to love.

As the sun climbed overhead, Reyna remarked, “It sounds a bit like our lives. You once told me that only inexperienced authors use self-inserts.”

“Every author puts a bit of themselves in the character,” Kianthe said, with such self-assurance that Reyna began to wonder when she’d become an authority on these matters. Especially when she cleared her throat and admitted, “But I am inexperienced, so this makes sense, doesn’t it? Besides, the Realm will love to see us in print. We’re a delight.”

Reyna laughed. “If you say so. Do you have a working title for the tome?”

“Oh, so many.” Kianthe literally rolled up her sleeves, and Reyna grimaced before she even got started. “How about ‘Seas Her Fortune’? Or ‘The Pirate’s Bountiful Booty.’ Maybe ‘Seas Likes It Rough.’ Get it?”

Reyna began to wonder if her borrowed horse could outrun Kianthe’s.

Then she recalled, with much regret, that Kianthe knew where she lived.

The mage was still going. “Something… something about firing cannons through your porthole. Oh! How about ‘This Treasured Chest,’ but the chest refers to—”

“Darling, I beg of you, please forget I asked.”

Kianthe wrinkled her nose. “I thought these were gold. Pirate’s gold! Get it?”

“I get it.”

“You sound like you’re dying.”

“Only on the inside.”

Kianthe flicked the reins, and her horse began to trot along the thin path. “I’d apologize, but you know what you’re marrying. I will be courteous enough to accept any and all title suggestions, so I can veto them in favor of ‘This Treasured Chest.’”

Reyna pinched her brow, nudging her horse to pull even with Kianthe’s again. “Splendid. I’ve never been more grateful my mother is dead. How will you face your family at our wedding, knowing that book sits on our shelves? How will we face our friends?”

“Well, our friends include Matild, and you know the stuff she likes.” Kianthe waggled her eyebrows. “And my family won’t be there, so—at least there’s that.”

They’d started this conversation in Oslop, and now it screeched into existence again: the glaring point that Kianthe didn’t seem to care about her parents… or their role in her life. Reyna frowned, contemplating a tactful way to approach it.

Luckily, her furrowed brow was a cue, because Kianthe heaved a sigh. “Go ahead, Rain. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Hmm. Well, that made things easier.

“I’m feeling a bit perplexed, if I’m being honest.” And they always were when that statement was spoken. Reyna tilted her face towards the sun, partly to make her words less assertive, partly to warm her cheeks. “I’d give anything to spend another day with my mother. I just can’t fathom what your family did that would result in your excommunication.”

“It’s not excommunication .” Kianthe set her jaw, hunching into herself. “I still write them… sometimes. I just… I don’t know. I moved to the Magicary when I was a kid and barely talked to them after that. But even before the Stone blessed me with its magic, before I became the Arcandor, they kept writing about how proud they were of me. I was failing every class, and they still kept implying that I was smart, or capable. Pretty sure one of their letters even said I’d be ‘the greatest mage alive.’”

“You are the greatest mage alive.” The words weren’t minced; it was a truth neither would deny.

“I was seven .”

Reyna frowned. She’d also grown up with a mother who expected success. It would sound crass to admit outside her thoughts, but—that kind of pressure only pushed her to grow. She succeeded because there was no alternative, and when that success paved the way to a prestigious career, it felt like nothing Reyna didn’t deserve.

The only thing she felt like she hadn’t earned in life was Kianthe. It took years longer to accept her presence in Reyna’s life.

“I suppose that could be a lot of pressure on a child.”

Her words were neutral, because she didn’t really understand. She wanted to, but this was… odd.

Kianthe squinted at her. “You’re laughing at me.” Under her tone was a deep-rooted fear that she’d be right.

Reyna scrambled to backtrack. “No, darling. Not at all. I’m sorry; I forget sometimes that we’re two different people, and similar experiences would affect us differently. My mother had an unwavering belief in my talents, but I never once doubted I’d meet them. I worked hard and was rewarded, which is how we’re raised in the Queendom.” She paused, puzzling through this now. “But if your performance isn’t exceeding the standards set by the Magicary, well. I can imagine how encouraging letters might feel like a knife to the heart.”

“It wasn’t even that I was failing classes at the Magicary. I mean, I was, but—that doesn’t really matter for a mage.” Kianthe massaged her forehead. High overhead, an eagle drifted on the breeze, and she watched it longingly. “It’s hard to explain. Our classes aren’t like… well, like the university in Leonol. There isn’t a degree, even for alchemists. If you have magic and believe in the Stone of Seeing, you’re a mage. It’s that simple.”

“And yet, that does make it more complex.”

Kianthe snapped her fingers. “Exactly. How do you measure success when there’s no standard? We can try to judge magical talents, but a person only ever has what the Stone allows. By placing a title on that, or claiming merit, it’s akin to questioning the Stone’s whim. All mages are equal in the Stone’s mind. The Arcandor may be its favored mage, but everyone else is equal. And even the Arcandor would never forget what it was to have normal magic.”

Reyna had never thought to inquire about this before. It was shocking to her that after so many years, she still knew so little about the Magicary’s inner workings. Originally, that was intentional—she didn’t want more information for Queen Tilaine to pry out of her. Later, their lives formed and it seemed less important.

This trip across Shepara was reminding her that she should never stop discovering things about Kianthe. Otherwise, their relationship would become very dull, very quickly.

“If being a mage is such a vague conclusion, how did you still fail your classes?” Reyna’s voice was teasing, now.

Kianthe chuckled, but it was much more strained. “I’m not really one for classrooms. It’s hard to stay focused, so I… didn’t. Focus, I mean. Mostly I was in trouble for disrupting the teachers, but even when we did skill tests, I was the worst in the class.” She sighed, tugging at a loose string on her cloak. “My parents thought I was an amazing mage, but before I became the Arcandor, that was so far from the truth.”

“You became the Arcandor as a teenager,” Reyna replied, raising one eyebrow. “You can’t possibly expect to be great at that age, even if you’re a prodigy. Or the class clown.”

Kianthe didn’t reply.

Reyna sighed. “Did you ever consider that you’ve been great this entire time, and it wasn’t your parents holding you to this imaginary standard?”

Several moments passed, and Kianthe opened her mouth and closed it multiple times. A slow smile tilted Reyna’s lips as she watched her fiancée splutter. She urged her horse a bit closer to Kianthe’s, leaned over their flanks, and kissed her on the cheek.

“No matter what, I love you. And I’m convinced I’d have loved you even if we met as children. Even if it took you a long time to love yourself.”

Kianthe’s face flushed, and she waved the emotion off. The intimate conversation seemed to make her very uncomfortable, but she didn’t divert attention; she just forced herself to sit in it. “I don’t think I liked myself until I met you, anyway. But I guess that’s not my parents’ fault.”

“So, perhaps we can invite them to the wedding? I doubt you’d feel inadequate facing their praise now, considering all you’ve done.”

Kianthe grumbled. “Let me think about it.”

Reyna smiled, squeezed her arm before letting their horses separate. They rode on, chatting about amicable things as the sun beamed overhead. Eventually, they stopped for lunch: salted meats with a healthy supply of fruits Kianthe grew from the seeds in the pouch at her hip. Later, they heard the screech of griffons—and although both turned hopefully towards the sky, it wasn’t their griffons.

“This is a griffon’s perfect habitat. Cold, isolated, with plenty of mountains.” Kianthe shrugged. “I miss Visk.”

“I miss Ponder.”

They looked at each other, heaved a collective sigh, then packed up lunch.

A little while later, they reached the spot Viviana marked on the map. The Northern Bay glimmered before them, big enough it looked like another ocean. The other side of the bay wasn’t even visible except at the northern tip, where Dragon Country reached for Shepara like a prying hand.

Reyna squinted at the opposite landmass. “I don’t see any dragons flying over there.”

“That’s why I’m worried. Dragons tend to stick closer to the southern border, along the Vardian mountain range. I’m not sure one would have seen an egg over here; unless they felt the magic from this distance, which is unlikely, I doubt that egg made it back.”

“Well, I expect it didn’t, or the dragons would have communicated about it. Feo said the eggs are rare. If one showed up after three went missing, I’m sure they’d have returned it to its clutch by now.”

Kianthe hesitated. “Possibly. Let’s spread out. Look for clues.”

They searched all day—and found absolutely nothing. They camped, kept searching in the morning, and by midday, Kianthe tossed up her hands. Another winter storm was moving in, and the wind off the bay was absolutely freezing. It was impressive she lasted this long.

“Are you sure we got the location right?”

“I’m certain. I also believe there’s a distinct possibility that after thirty years, the egg has gone somewhere we can’t track.”

Kianthe’s eyes widened, and her gaze slipped to the Southern Bay. The water here was black, murky, and turbulent, but she seemed two breaths from diving into it. “You think it’s in the bay?”

Reyna physically stopped her. “No, I think it’s lost to time. This isn’t a human shipment with a paper trail, however old and obscure. You know how easily nature reclaims itself. If the egg was here, it didn’t remain long and any hint of it is gone.”

“Then why did we ride up here?” Kianthe demanded, clearly frustrated.

Reyna gestured at her. “Magic. I was hoping there’d be a glimmer of dragon magic left for you to track. At the very least, this excursion should prove to that bindment spell that we tried to find the missing egg. Now, our responsibility is to the other two.”

“We don’t even know where those eggs are.”

Reyna smiled wryly. “Well, how fortunate that our resident expert on alchemical magic was kidnapped by your griffon several days ago, hmm? Let’s return to Lathe and wait for Feo. I’m dying to see what’s inside that desk drawer.”

At the reminder, Kianthe perked up. “Fine. But I’m opening it this time, okay?”

“Anything you wish, darling.”