Chapter 2
Ijerk awake.
A towering figure looms over me, shrouded in darkness. I go to scream, but a hand slaps over my mouth.
My legs thrash, arms swinging wildly in the direction of the intruder, but my chains tangle and a second hand wraps around my wrist, holding me still. I force my mouth open and bite down on flesh.
The person grunts and stumbles back, clattering against the open door of my cell.
Thea shoots to her feet. “Briar!”
“For fuck’s sake,” the figure says, holding out its arms. “It’s just me.”
Elias.
I scramble to my feet and suck in a deep breath, calming my racing pulse. “What in the fates are you doing?”
My eyes adjust, and lanterns from the upper deck filter through the gaps in the boards, casting a dim glow on his bleeding hand.
He winces. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“So you snuck into my cell while I was sleeping?” I snarl, wrapping the chain around my wrists. If he comes at me again, I’ll throw it around his throat and squeeze until he stops breathing.
Thea presses herself against the bars, her knuckles blanching against the rungs.
“On the upper deck,” he adds.
My hands drop to my sides, chains rattling as they hit the floor. The metal tugs against my wrists, but I hardly feel the pain. “You’re letting me out?”
He shakes his head. “Just to have a conversation.”
“And Kressa?”
“Is finally asleep, and doesn’t need to know.”
I gnaw on my lip and slide my gaze to Thea. I have no reason to trust Elias. Who knows what a decade in confinement did to his mind—let alone the fact that he can read thoughts. A power that comes with a death sentence. But if I want to get the key to our shackles, this is the best chance I’ll get.
“Okay.”
Thea’s eyes widen. “Are you sure?”
I nod, testing my footsteps as I shift closer to the cell door. Even if I’m shackled and powerless, I could hold my own against him—should he try to hurt me.
“It won’t be long,” Elias says, holding out a hand as I pass over the threshold of my cell.
I don’t take it.
Shrugging, he closes the door, careful not to let the hinges squeal. He leads me into the kitchen, and we pass a pile of unwashed dishes in the sink.
We pause at the entrance to the sleeping quarters, and he presses a finger against his lips. “We don’t want to wake anyone.”
He eases the door open, and heavy breathing cuts through the silence, the hammocks swaying with the movement of the ship. I steady my hands in front of me, keeping the chains from rattling against the floor as we cross through.
He climbs the steps to the upper deck, but I pause at the base. A shiver works its way down my spine, and my stomach churns. A decade ago, I was arranged to marry this man. And even though it was Kressa glamoured as him, I technically made an attempt on his life.
At the top, he turns and raises a brow. “Are you coming?”
Shaking off the thought, I climb the steps one at a time. If he wanted to harm me, he could have killed me in my sleep or poison my dinner.
Fresh air wafts across my face and weaves through my hair, cooling the sweat at my nape. There’s a chill to it, and I hug my arms in as goosebumps spread over my skin. We must be in the far north—closer to Ignata than I thought.
Elias motions for me to stop and peers around the corner toward the main mast. Boots whisper against the deck, and hushed conversation melds with the gentle caress of waves against the hull.
“Now.”
He grabs my forearm and pulls me toward the stern. Clouds blot out the sliver of a moon, and we dip through shadows where the lanterns don’t reach—past weary crew members tightening a knot at the rail.
“Shit.” He shoves me sideways, and I trip over my feet, catching myself on a door.
“Your Highness,” a voice says. A shadow creeps into view, coming closer. “I didn’t know you were out of your quarters. Do you need something?”
I stiffen. Julian. Kressa’s personal guard.
“Just getting some fresh air,” Elias says, leaning his elbow against the wall.
I press myself against the wooden door and hold my breath, my heart pounding in my ears. The words etched into the gilded placard screwed to the door catch my eye, and my stomach plummets.
Captain’s Quarters.
Kressa is on the other side.
“Best get some sleep. We’ll be docking in Ignata come sunrise,” Julian says, his voice closer, just on the other side of where Elias is standing.
Elias shifts, and the keyring on his belt sways with the movement. I’ve seen enough rhodium cuffs over the years to recognize the black key dangling within reach. I inch my hand closer. If he’s distracted enough not to notice, then maybe—
Julian rounds the corner, and my breath catches as I press myself into the shadows, flush against the door.
Twin blades catch the light over his shoulder, and although he helped me escape Caelus on more than one occasion, he wouldn’t hesitate to turn me in to Kressa. His loyalty runs deep.
Elias snatches my collar and pulls me away from the door. “Almost there.”
My footsteps are unsteady, but I follow on his heels as we round the narrow walkway to the rear of the ship. Darkness swallows us, and my breath bottles in my throat.
In the gaps between clouds, stars pepper the night sky. The ocean stretches to the farthest reaches, whitecaps rolling in the ship’s wake. Salty mist sprays against my face, and I close my eyes, bracing myself against the rail. Days ago, this would have burned my skin—a warning against the curse.
But now, I sigh out a breath as it coats my cheeks.
“For the record,” Elias says, “I didn’t want to marry you either.”
My eyelids flutter open, and I watch him in my periphery. His gaze is somewhere in the distance, and without warning, he swings himself onto the narrow rail and settles to a seat, letting his feet dangle over the edge.
Bold, for someone so attached to the earth.
“I guess I should apologize for trying to kill you,” I say, joining him. Air shoots up the stern, tossing my hair around my face. If I focus on the water instead of the wooden beam beneath me, it’s almost as if I’m on The Twelfth Night.
I inch closer to him, eying the keyring dangling from his belt.
He chuckles. “No apologies needed. If anything, Kressa is the one who we should be seeking forgiveness from. But neither of us would be in this position if she minded her own business, would we?”
There’s a carelessness in the way he speaks about it—so unlike the harsh words Kressa spits at me. The clouds part, and a beam of moonlight settles on the water, tracing the waves.
“Why weren’t you there?” I say, inching my fingers closer to the keyring.
The ship crests over a wave, tilting us forward, and I pinch the rhodium key free. It taps the rest of the keys together, and I hold my breath, but the hull smacks the water and hides the noise. Smiling to myself, I fold the key into my palm and slide it into my pocket.
But as the keyring settles back against his hip, I curse under my breath. When he goes to lock me back into my cell, he’ll notice it missing.
A breeze floats through Elias’s sandy hair, and his throat bobs on a swallow.
“I ran away with Emilia. She was a girl I met on the outer reaches of the city. And in my father’s eyes, unworthy of marriage.
We planned to make it as far from Sarenia as we could, then start our lives over together.
” He pauses, pinching his lip between his fingers. “And Caelus caught us.”
I press my palms into the wood. “What happened?”
“He killed her.” His head hangs between his shoulders, and his voice cracks. “Slowly, while he made me watch. Then shoved a rhodium helmet over my head and kept me in a cell for a decade with nothing but my own thoughts.”
A vise clamps around my heart. If it weren’t for me, there’s a chance Emilia would still be alive. “I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be in that mirror, tallying my days and going mad.
I know what everyone has said about you over the years, and even more about what lingers in their thoughts.
I’ve even caught glimpses of what you say to yourself.
” He looks me in the eye. “At some point, Briar, you need to forgive yourself for what happened.”
I stare at the rhodium plates wrapped around my wrists. “I’ll forgive myself when I fix it.”
A long sigh. “It takes courage to do what you’ve done, but unless you share the weight of the responsibility, it’ll crush you. You can’t bear that alone.”
I study his face as I turn over his words in my mind. In any other circumstance, they would ring true. But it was me alone who came up with the plan to kill my betrothed. It’s my wrong to make right.
“Why’d you bring me out here?” I say, changing the subject. “You could’ve waited until morning to tell me all of this, or when I’m safely locked away in Ignata.”
He nods. “You’re right, I could have. But I heard you honor your dead on the open sea, under a blanket of stars.”
A knot forms in my throat, and I swallow past the tears threatening to climb up. That night when we returned the selkies’ tails, I told Kressa about our funeral ritual. “She told you?”
“Oh, no.” He waves a hand through the air. “I saw it in her mind. She’s a little rusty, blocking me out.”
My resolve falters, and a single tear slips free as I stare out into the ocean. The whole decade I was gone—forgotten and powerless—my mother was waiting for me. She fought at the warfront with our people with the belief I’d return.
Caelus’s final words twist at the nerves running up my spine.
There has to be proof, somewhere, that his claim is false. Records of some sort in the libraries of Delterran. Yet another reason to get back as soon as I can.
And to do that…
“Look.” I point to the heavens. “A shooting star.”
His attention swings to the sky the moment the ship pitches, and I undo the clasp securing the keyring to his belt. The string of keys bounces off the wooden rails, tumbles down the stern, and disappears into the inky depths.
He curses under his breath and heaves himself onto the deck. Gripping the rail, he peers over the edge, but there are no keys to be found.
“What happened?” I say.
“My keyring came undone. And if—”
A blade presses against my jawline. “Get down from the rail or I’ll slit your throat.”
The hair on my nape stands on edge, and I swallow against the dagger. “I wouldn’t be as valuable if I were dead, would I?”
“A body is a body,” Kressa says against my ear, wrapping her hand around my arm so tight it stings.
“Is that what you told yourself the night we—”
She yanks me from the rail and slams my back against the wall separating the stern from the rest of the deck. The blade presses deeper into my skin, and a bead of warm blood drips to the hollow space between my collarbones.
Elias lays a hand on her shoulder. “I brought her out here.”
Kressa’s gaze slides to him. “Get out of my sight, now.”
“But—”
“Or you’ll find yourself in the brig with her.”
He clamps his mouth shut and gives me a nod before he disappears around the wall.
“You could have fallen over the edge,” Kressa grits out, her face no more than a breath away from mine.
“You’re right,” I say, my voice laced with saccharine. “Then you’d have to go back to your father empty handed. What a shame.”
She grinds her teeth together and drops the blade from my throat. Before I have a chance to inhale a full breath, she grabs my shirt by the collar and shoves me toward the main deck.
“Walk.” She presses the tip of her blade against my spine. “You know the way back.”
In any other situation, I’d object. I’d put up a fight. But with the weight of the key in my pocket and the promise of escape tomorrow, I lead the way to the brig.
The crew stares as we pass, whispering and averting their eyes as I look their way. We come to the stairs leading below deck, and I drag my chains over the stairs, letting them drop with each step I take.
Groans come from the hammocks, and despite the bond between Kressa and I being gone, I can taste her annoyance on my tongue.
She pulls her own set of keys from a pocket in her coat and unlocks the brig’s door. Only now, as I take a closer look at her, do I find the faint purple settling into the space beneath her eyes. Exhaustion pulls at her lids, her blinks heavy.
The door swings open, and she shoves me in.
Thea stands and wraps her hands around the bars as I pass. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I say.
Kressa yanks open my door and tosses me into the cell.
I steady myself and stand at the threshold as she slams the door shut—the rods coming within an inch of my face. “Why are you up so late?”
Her gaze flicks up to mine as the lock turns. “I don’t sleep anymore.”
A heavy silence fills the air. Without another word, she adjusts the collar of her coat and strides out of the brig.
“What happened?” Thea crosses her cell and presses her face against the metal.
Smiling, I dip my hand into my pocket and pull out the key, dangling it on a finger. “They failed to see what was right in front of them.”