Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“What is he doing here?” Calya bit out, pointing at Brint Avenor’s smirking face.
He sat in one of the plush upholstered chairs in front of Wembly’s desk, looking completely at home in the Helm Naval office. Far too comfortable for a man who had tried to turn the company into a life ring to save himself from his personal failings.
“He brought a message regarding our business with his father.” Wembly’s voice was calm, as if such a weak excuse was perfectly reasonable.
“I would think anything he touches is tainted,” Calya said.
Brint spread his hands in front of him, an affable smile on his handsome face. Her hand itched to punch him.
“Delivered the messages unopened, bearing my father’s personal seal,” Brint said. “I’m paying my dues again. Doing the grunt work.” His face molded into a chastised expression. “I know I’ve got a long way to go to rebuild trust, but I’m trying, Calya. I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry for it.”
Having worked closely with Calya for the last year and a half, Wembly must’ve seen the scathing reply gathering itself behind Calya’s gritted teeth.
Before she could let it free, he cleared his throat.
“I took the liberty of pulling the shipping logs from our record archives,” he said, opening a drawer on his desk and removing a thin folio. He offered it to Calya.
With a last frown in Brint’s direction, she allowed herself to be distracted.
As distractions went, it was short-lived.
The entry for the trip that had presumably carried Anadae’s wards showed no change.
No request for a supplement at all. Which couldn’t be right.
If Anadae had delivered the wards to an HNE ship—and there was no reason to think her sister had lied—then there had to be a record. It was standard protocol.
And yet… nothing. The log bore their logistics manager’s signature approving the submissions, and Calya’s own initials showed she’d reviewed it.
“It’s possible your sister sent her package on one of our partners’ ships by mistake,” Wembly said. “I can make inquiries and see if the paperwork can be found elsewhere.”
“AG has been working a lot more on routes going through the Valley this past month,” Brint added. “We do so much business together, maybe Ana put it on one of ours.”
“Dae worked for Helm Naval for most of her life,” Calya said. “She can tell our ships apart.”
Brint held his hands up, his manner exaggerated. “Well, I’m sorry, Caly, I’m just trying to help.”
“It’s Calya. You and I aren’t nearly so friendly. And I would love to be rid of you, if only your fuckups could be contained to your own interests.”
Brint bristled. “What’s that supposed—”
“Miss Helm,” Wembly said, voice rising above them. “I note that you were late for our meeting. Did you have a chance to look over your father’s correspondence?”
Calya dismissed his question with a wave of her hand.
“That’s not important right now. Mr. Wembly, I’ve made the arrangements for one of our ships currently at dock here to be available for my business with the Sentinels.
I’ll be gone at least a fortnight, given the distance to the Landing. My current schedule—”
Both men spoke up at once.
“You can’t go—”
“Desmond’s Landing? Why—” Brint leapt up from his chair, alarm on his face.
Calya glared at them. “I’ve made my decision, Mr. Wembly. End of discussion,” she said, with as much grace as she could muster. Which wasn’t terribly much, but she managed to keep her tone calm, albeit cold. Better than a shout. After all, Wembly wasn’t her father—just a handler.
“You can’t, Miss Helm,” Wembly argued. “A young woman of your standing can’t be playing errand girl on the outskirts of Graelynd. It simply isn’t—”
“I’m not sixteen and about to debut before the upper crust of Central District.” Calya threw up her hands. “Don’t tell me this sort of thing isn’t done. If I’d been born a man, you wouldn’t be complaining.”
Wembly carried on as if she hadn’t spoken.
“It isn’t safe. It wouldn’t be safe for the presumptive heir to a company of Helm Naval’s stature regardless of gender.
However, taking into account your father’s role in the government, and that you are a young woman, there are too many risk factors.
I am sorry, Miss Helm, but I must insist on opposing your wish to accompany the shipment. ”
Brint lurked in the background, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He watched the conflict unfold with a smirk on his face. Uncharacteristically for him, he didn’t speak. No snide little comments from the sidelines.
If Calya had been in one of her rare charitable moods, she’d have taken Wembly’s admission as something of a compliment.
A recognition that she had some value to her family’s company, and that the natural order of things implied it would one day be hers.
But at the moment, Calya felt like she was losing, and that tended to make her feel even more obstinate.
“I’ve already signed the contract with the Sentinels and Sylveren University,” she declared.
A small lie, but the Coalition of Trade recognized verbal agreements as binding.
Wembly could complain to her father all he wanted; it changed nothing.
The trustee wouldn’t risk tarnishing Helm Naval Engineering’s reputation by reneging on a deal with as respected an institution as Sylveren.
“On what terms?” the older man snapped, a rare note of true anger leaking into his voice.
“The Sentinels are entrusted with the safe delivery of school property,” Calya said. “It requires certain enchantments to maintain its efficacy, but refreshing them interferes with the spells required for by windrunners.”
If they were lucky, the trip out to Desmond’s Landing could be done in the better part of four days. Just enough for the tea’s enchanted containers to last.
It was all pretense, Calya assumed. By her understanding, the tea was designed with the sole purpose of cleansing the sickness brought on by exposure to the poison that had been decimating Rhell.
Regardless of what the research group in the Landing was working on, the Sentinels were essentially just escorting the ingredients for expensive, useless leaf water.
Not that her reasons for the trip were any better.
She didn’t need any convincing to hop aboard, but rather a plausible excuse.
Following up on the missing wards and seeing the joint protection route with Avenor Guard that continued to have or be party to so many nagging little problems should’ve been reason enough.
Calya’s motivation and zeal for Helm Naval had seen her involved in numerous projects over the years—there was nothing outwardly surprising about her desire to go.
Why her trustee would suddenly be antsy about safety made no sense.
“I am going, Arthur,” Calya finally said, meeting his displeased look and refusing to look away. “What amendments to my travel plans would ease your concerns? And don’t suggest canceling, because I will not.”
Wembly and Brint exchanged looks. “Better security,” the older man said.
Calya’s brows slowly rose. “There will be multiple Sentinels on board, and it’s a nonstop trip.”
“Avenor Guard would be happy to work with you for this,” Brint said. “I’ve been meaning to get out to the Landing myself to check on one of our projects. I could—”
“Absolutely not,” Calya said, tone heated. “If you think I’d let you on this trip, one sailing this particular route, you’ve lost your godsdamned mind.”
Brint sighed dramatically. “I said I was sorry, Calya! I made a mistake, okay? I can’t do better—”
“A mistake?” she yelled. “You tried to ruin me, you fucking self-absorbed—”
“As a last resort! I was trying to fix things.”
“Miss Helm,” Wembly said, voice sharp. “Mr. Avenor. That’s enough.”
Calya rounded on the trustee, stabbing the air in Brint’s direction. “We can’t trust him. He’s been—”
“What is going on in here?”
All three of them turned to face the office door, where Anadae stood with a surprised look on her face.
Brint recovered first, head whipping back toward Calya. “What have I been doing, Calya?”
Anadae’s appearance was enough to dampen some of Calya’s fire. It made her pause long enough to realize the trap in Brint’s words.
She ignored the men, instead going toward her sister. “Anadae, what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you.” Anadae’s gaze flitted between Calya and the men. “What are you arguing about?”
“They think I need a babysitter to go to the Landing with the Sentinels.”
“We don’t know the Sentinels,” Wembly clarified.
“I have business out there, too.” Brint’s chin jutted out, a mulish look on his face.
“I see,” Anadae said calmly. “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” She held Calya’s gaze. “Even if that means some compromises.”
Compromise. Twenty-seven years in the world, and the word had yet to grow on Calya. But Anadae took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Or maybe it was a warning. Either way, it asked silently for trust.
Begrudgingly, Calya relented. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”
Two hours later, Calya walked with her sister to the door of Helm Naval’s headquarters.
“I can’t believe you talked me into letting that fucking doorknob come,” Calya muttered.
Anadae snorted. “You can’t stop Brint from traveling everywhere.”
“No, but I could’ve at least not let him on my fucking ship.”
“I don’t like it, either,” Anadae admitted. “And I’m surprised Mr. Wembly is so forgiving, though if Brint’s telling the truth and his father really is letting him start at the bottom…” She shrugged.
“He’s worked with Daddy Avenor often enough over the years. I suppose seniority rules.” Calya wrinkled her nose.
For all her griping, it could’ve been worse.
Anadae had mediated the compromise, helping convince Wembly that Calya had the authority to travel pursuant to Helm Naval interests.
He was able to pull rank and insist on heightened security measures, though Calya disagreed with there being an actual need.
She’d have to break the news to Malek’ko that only one Sentinel would be allowed as a representative for Sylveren, which she imagined would go over poorly.
But, though she had to allow a contingent from Avenor Guard for security, she’d been successful in lobbying for Lieutenant Orren’s squad to be the chosen ones.
Which suited her much better than having some Wembly-appointed babysitter or a pack of hounds loyal to Brint.
Orren wouldn’t try to micromanage her, so Calya would be free to investigate why Brint continued to be such a thorn in her side.
And oh, how she intended to. She couldn’t take over Helm Naval if their disastrous joint protection deal kept popping up.
“I had better pay Malek’ko a visit,” Calya said. She could’ve sent word with a page, but the changes to their travel itinerary were not suggestions, and she wasn’t one to hide behind paper to convey disappointments.
“I’ll do it. I need to finish making arrangements at the school, anyway.” Anadae pulled Calya into a hug. “We’re not letting them win. Be ready to go at the dawn sail.”
“We? The dawn… What?” Calya blinked. “Sister dearest, what are you plotting?”
“Yes.” Anadae winked at her before stepping out into the rain. “The dawn sail. Don’t be late.”
Calya watched until her sister disappeared around a curve in the road.
A smile twitched across her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this kind of excitement—the last time Anadae had felt like a partner in business.
Temporary business; Calya held no illusion that Anadae would come back to HNE.
But the heady feeling rushing through her was welcome nonetheless.
No, Brint and Wembly hadn’t won. Far from it.
Closing the door, Calya went back up to her room to pack.