Chapter Twenty-Four
James wanted to die.
His body ached as though an anchor sat atop his shoulders and chest, pressing him into the bed. As his wits returned, he noted silk draperies around the bed. He slowly took in the room. Rich blues and vibrant reds hung amid the deep mahogany dresser and wardrobe against the far wall. A gentle breeze drifted from an open balcony door. It was dark. How long had he been asleep?
“Finally.” Celeste’s sweet voice wrapped around him like a siren song.
He looked up at the figure beside his bed and gave her his most rakish smile, wincing as pain thrummed through him.
“Were you worried?”
“You daft pirate.” Celeste sat on the bed and took his hand in hers. “You nearly died.”
“Not the first time.” James chuckled, his wound screaming with the movement. He hissed in a breath. “And it certainly will not be the last.”
“Aye.” She peered at the wound hidden beneath a bandage on his shoulder. “But you did it to save me.”
He nodded, admiring the smooth curve of her cheek and the furrow between her brows. There was none more fierce or lovely. Not a soul compared to his little star.
“How long have I been here?” he asked, afraid to move.
“A week.” She retrieved a small goblet and offered it to him.
He sipped the cool liquid, letting it soothe his dry, scratchy throat. The taste was pleasant enough, but rum would have been a more welcome treat.
“My ship?”
“Moored at the docks.” She set the drink aside. “Your men are enjoying a well-deserved respite from piracy.”
He scoffed. “And what of Smee?”
“He remains on the Raven until your return, Captain.” A smile pulled at her lips. He longed to taste them. “The last I saw him, he muttered something about a Tinker.”
James laughed outright, but pain jolted through him like a sharp lance of fire. He gripped his shoulder and took several deep breaths.
“At this rate, you will never recover,” Celeste admonished him.
“Perhaps I shall remain in your bed indefinitely.”
“What makes you think this is my bed?”
“An educated guess.” He shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “And it smells of jasmine.”
“Therefore it is mine?”
“It smells like you.”
Silence drifted between them for a long moment. She offered him another drink, and he accepted eagerly. All this banter left him parched. When she set the cup aside, she moved close, taking his hand once more.
“What happened after...” His voice drifted off, the remaining words clear. After I was shot.
“Lord Rowland and the other council members had returned to speak with Caroline, but they found us arguing.” She smoothed her fingers over his knuckles. “They heard everything. It was as good as a confession.
“And when she tried to kill me, Lord Rowland shot her.” Celeste sniffed, holding back tears.
He said nothing as she composed herself. It would do no good to tell her he’d also heard every word while waiting for his opportunity to step between the two women, should the occasion arise.
“I should have killed her myself.” A tear slipped free to run down her cheek. “But I could not bring myself to do it. After all we have been through...all the memories we shared. She might not have been my sister by blood, but she was my friend...or so I believed.”
“Betrayal by one’s own kin is the most painful.” James brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed them. “You did what you thought was right. Mercy is not a weakness.”
A sad chuckle escaped her. “Such a confession is bold from a pirate.”
“I may be a pirate, but it does not mean I have no heart.”
“Twice, you have stepped between me and death.” She trailed her fingers along his jaw. “Why?”
His heart raced at her simple touch. “I would think the answer is obvious, Princess.”
“Nothing is ever obvious with you, James.”
Her fingertips caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring the touch.
“You wish for me to confess my feelings for you?” He opened his eyes and drowned in the wonder of her guarded expression.
“Do you have feelings for me?”
“Aye, Princess. I do.”
“And do those feelings have a name?”
“Admiration. Passion.” His voice wavered. “Love.”
She blossomed before him, her cheeks turning pink in the dim light. “You love me?”
“Is there any doubt in your mind?”
“You are a pirate. You love only treasure and the sea.”
“And a defiant princess who enjoys bargaining with her life, it seems.” He sighed. “I cannot imagine there being much of a future between us.”
The rose in her cheeks deepened, even as a smirk appeared on her lips. “What makes you so sure of that?”
“Will you give up the throne to join me at sea?” he asked, hopeful.
“You know I cannot.” Her smile faded. “My place is here, with my people.”
“Of course.” He hid his disappointment, even though it stung his pride to hear rejection.
“I would never ask you to give up your ship, your crew, or your love of the sea.” She rested a hand on his heart. “They are a part of you, bound together for eternity.”
James wrestled with the truth deep in his soul. He loved her, but did he love her enough to change who he was? To alter his very essence to suit her purpose? He could not answer that question. Not with his body and his mind in torment.
“Perhaps we can negotiate a bargain,” Celeste said, her voice steady.
“A bargain?”
“Aye. You like those.” She grinned.
“I do.” He met her grin with one of his own. “Especially when they benefit me.”
Celeste ignored his taunt. “I will offer you a place by my side as queen’s consort. You will be my partner in every way, a king without the title.”
“You have my attention.”
“Or you can return to the sea, to your life as a pirate on the Endless Sea with my blessing.”
“Is there room for negotiation?”
“At this moment, I am afraid not.” Her expression remained solemn. “What say you?”
He stroked his jaw, pondering his options. “How soon do you need my answer?”
“You have until the winter solstice.”
“Six months.” He nodded. “A reasonable timeframe.”
“As soon as you are recovered, I shall have you returned to the Raven.” She stood, smoothing her hands across the bodice of her gown.
“Tomorrow,” James said, his tone even. “I shall return to my ship tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow it shall be.” Celeste’s face paled, but she quickly composed herself. “I shall make the necessary arrangements.”
She turned to leave, and his heart twisted at the sight of her walking away. He bit his tongue to keep from calling out, begging her to stay. Confessing every desire of his soul.
He could not. His place was not here with her. It never had been and never would be.
She deserved a chance to find something more, someone better. And damn it to the depths of the sea if he would let his love ruin her chance for happiness. Celeste would be queen, and he could never be anything more than a bloody pirate.