Chapter 65
Evie
Evie was leaning on the ship’s railing, overlooking the water, when her father found her.
“I remember how much you used to enjoy stargazing.” His voice was discordant, grating against her soul. It was a sound that had caused such comfort but also such pain.
“I won’t reminisce with you, Papa.” She didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes ahead, her bare arms growing chilly from the wind hitting the sails.
He sighed. “I heard your mother left again. I’m sure that was very painful for you.”
She couldn’t hold back. Facing him head-on, she said, “No. I was well prepared to be left again. I’ve grown accustomed to it; I learned that from you.”
For just a brief flash, her father appeared regretful. But then his look turned calculated. “I suppose you think Trystan Maverine wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“I know he wouldn’t.” She pushed off the railing and walked past her father, her head held high.
“But he would. He will.” It was the sureness in his tone that let the doubt creep in, and she stopped.
“Don’t you see the damage you leave behind?
Everywhere you go, destruction will follow, and he will come to hate you.
Because as heir to Rennedawn’s throne, he was born to do just that. You cannot resist the inevitable.”
She spun around and smiled. “Then understand this. You are nothing. Call me the kingdom’s doom if you like. All you’ll ever be is the lackey at the side of a corrupt king. I feel sorry for you.”
Pressing a hand to her chest, she started to retreat to her cabin, but Captain Jones appeared before her, handing her a flask and two thick blankets. “What’s all this?”
“The Jellyfish Jones sleep aid.” He winked at her and gave her a kind kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry for all this. Truly.”
Evie patted his hand, wondering if he knew what a difference it made for her to see a father apologize. And mean it. “You did the right thing, and I’m glad for it. Which cabin should I take?”
“End of the hall, as far as possible from where the Valiant Guard will be.”
She took the ladder down, trying to ignore the whistle of one of the Valiant Guards as she walked up to her door. No violence. “Ow! You wretch!”
That hadn’t stopped Trystan.
“Oh, I’m sorry. My leg slipped.”
She didn’t turn around, just felt his chest meet her back and his quiet murmur, “Go.”
She opened the door, and he swept in after her, closing it, catching her before she crumbled. “I spoke with my father. I hated it.” She sounded meek and unsure. Her strength did not work with her father.
She moved toward the small cot in the corner, dropping Jones’s blankets and “sleep aid” down.
“Do you want me to kill him for you?” Trystan asked softly as he followed her, his dark eyes scanning hers—searching for damage, no doubt.
“No.” Evie felt haunted by all the things she’d never be. “I want him to be alive and well when he loses. I want him to have to witness his failure.”
Trystan’s lip curled, his handsome face deeply shadowed in the candlelight. “You have a gift for maliciousness.”
“Or just a gift for being evil.”
“I’d mark them the same.” Trystan shrugged, his smile falling when he found a tear running down her cheek. Damn it. “Hey.” He turned her face gently toward him, and that made the tears come faster, leaving hot, angry streaks down her face. “What is it?”
“It just feels too terrible to be real. That I can love you and you can love me and yet it’ll still end terribly. I know everything out of my father’s mouth is a strategy, an attempt to do damage. But it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
His hand cupped the back of her neck, slowly moving her toward the table pushed up against the wall. “It’s not true. What did he say to you?”
She smiled sadly. “Oh, the usual. We’re doomed to become enemies. Any efforts to the contrary will be in vain. I leave a trail of destruction in my wake, and one day, just like everyone else, you will grow tired of it, and you will leave.”
He released her, his face twisted in anger when he walked to the porthole, looking out at the thrashing waves. “I can’t wait to be off this fucking boat.”
“So you can leave me?” she joked, laughing through the words, her mind trying to test the waters of them. Her heart repelled the notion, but not as much as Trystan, who spun around so fast and angrily, she stumbled back.
“Is that really what you think?” He stalked closer, face darkening with each step, and not for the first time, Evie felt a sick thrill. The sort that overtakes you when facing off with an adversary. “That we’re leading to an end in which…I abandon you?”
“It was just a joke.” She chuckled nervously, fiddling with the ends of her curls.
“No. It wasn’t.” He stared deeply into her eyes, like her soul was bared before him and there was not a corner of it that he could not see. She couldn’t handle it for long, her gaze falling down to the light-pink floorboards. “Look at me,” he ordered.
“No.”
“Look at me.” He was angry, but it was soft. She’d seen his anger volatile, but this wasn’t that. This was a quiet rage. “Evangelina.”
“What?” She landed her gaze upon his face, throwing her hands in the air.
“What? You want me to say I’m scared? Fine, I’m scared!
I’m trying to be this new version of myself, and I don’t know how.
I have dark magic and I have a destiny I never knew about, but I’m still who I’ve always been!
I don’t know how to reconcile them, and I don’t know how to reconcile that a man I had to fight tooth and nail to acknowledge his own feelings hasn’t already given up on me. ”
He smiled, and it was terrifying. “You’re afraid because you know the truth.”
Evie swallowed, a small sound coming from the back of her throat when he gripped her cheeks and pulled her closer to his mouth, hovering just above her lips. “What—What truth?” she whispered.
“You know,” he rumbled. “Say it.”
The command was firm, calm, grounding her where she stood.
“That no matter what I do, no matter where I go, whatever heinous acts I commit or pain I turn to humor, you will never care if I’m the worst person in the world.” Her heart pinched as his dark stare bore into hers. “You won’t leave.”
The realization settled in, and she let herself believe it, ignoring the shields to protect herself, to protect her heart. It was useless anyway; he was already there, holding it.
But then he released her, the flame in her blood cooling to confusion. “You just said— Where are you going? We’re not going to…”
He gave her a crooked grin, grabbing one of the blankets she’d placed on the bed. “We’re not going to what?”
Her face heated, and her skin prickled with embarrassment. “Play…checkers?”
“I don’t think I can in good conscience succumb to my extreme desire to”—he paused thoughtfully, and the boyish, playful look upon his face made her feel lighter—“play checkers.” He walked toward the door with composure that annoyed her.
Mostly because she was coming undone like a poorly tied ribbon.
“There are Valiant Guards crawling all over this ship,” Trystan continued, “and these cabin doors do not lock. I intend to remain posted outside in case any of them forget there is to be no violence on board.”
“You can guard me from in here,” she protested.
His gaze was a caress, from her legs to her chest until he settled on her face. “If I remain in here, I won’t be guarding you.”
He didn’t need to say what he’d be doing instead; she could see it in the heat of his gaze. “Meet me on the ship deck just before sunrise,” Trystan requested, opening the door and stepping into the hall.
Evie frowned. “Why?”
“We need to strategize how we’ll get to the Garden of Rennedawn before the rest of them.”
He said nothing else, just gently closed the door, and Evie knew she could settle herself, knowing he was on the other side, standing sentry. The wind rushed the porthole, and Evie felt a spark beginning.
Of a very bad idea.