Chapter 46
Kurtz
“I haven’t felt worse in all my days,” Kressy said, “but out here in the air, it’s not so bad. Least I can breathe without feeling like my insides are about to stage a mutiny. Don’t know how sailors do it every day for so long.”
Kurtz leaned against the mizzenmast as he grinned down on Lady Tara’s maid. “Ah, but you’ve got it all wrong, you do. See, sailors aren’t immune to seasickness. They’ve just learned to stagger around like drunkards so no one can tell the difference.”
Kressy laughed at this, which gave Kurtz a little thrill he hadn’t felt in quite some time. The maid had a pretty laugh—high and lilting—the kind that made a man feel clever even when he wasn’t. Not that he wasn’t.
Kressy twirled a loose thread on her apron. “Still, standing too long makes me feel like I’ve got wobbly legs and a belly full of sloshing porridge.”
“Well, if your legs give out, just make sure to fall my way, eh?” Kurtz said. “I’d hate to see good porridge go to waste.”
Kressy giggled again, and Kurtz let his grin widen just a little.
He caught sight of Zanna across the deck, watching him, arms folded, eyes sharp.
Oh, that was too good to ignore.
So he leaned in, tilting his head just so, his voice dropping into that low, easy drawl women liked. “If you need to steady those wobbly legs, you could hold onto me, you could. Fair warning, though. Pretty lass like you, I might take that as an invitation to dance.”
Kressy’s cheeks pinked, but before Kurtz could lay it on any thicker, she smoothed her skirts and stepped back. “I should check on m’lady. Good day, Master Chazir.”
“Duty calls.” He winked.
Kressy hurried toward the cabins, and as soon as she was gone, Kurtz turned back to Zanna, half expecting her to still be glaring at him.
But she wasn’t.
She had that knowing look instead. The one that struck him harder than it should and made his chest feel tight.
Memories of the tunnel slammed into him. The dark swallowing him whole. The way the walls had closed in once his lamp had sputtered out. The sick, despairing thought that maybe this time he wouldn’t make it out.
And then…The feel of her hand on his skin, the calmness it had brought, steadying his breath.
If Zanna hadn’t come looking for him…he might still be there.
Yet looking at her now made him nervous and a little out of control. He shoved off the mizzenmast and crossed the deck toward her. Just to clear the air. Nothing more.
“You didn’t have to come with us, you know,” he said when he reached her.
“Now that Prince Oren knows what happened to the prisoners and there’s a new warden, my job there is done. He sent me with you. I’m here. Better get used to it.”
Eben’s breath, she was touchy.
“About what happened in that tunnel…” He exhaled sharply. “I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.”
Zanna arched a brow. “You think I’m going to tell everyone how you lost yourself?”
Those words stung. “I didn’t lose myself. I was just…resting.”
“You were in a ball on the ground, crying.”
Now, just a minute. “I was not crying.” His voice pitched too high, and he winced. “I don’t cry.”
She smirked. “You were in a fit of hysteria, Kurtz. If I hadn’t come along, you’d probably still be lying there in the dark.”
Bah. It was one thing for him to think that. Quite another for her to say it out loud.
Then she launched the killing blow. “You needed me. Admit it. You needed me.”
Oh, but the way she said that lit him on fire, and not the good kind. “I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now.” He stabbed a finger toward the deck. “You stay on your side of the ship, and I’ll stay on mine, eh?”
With that, he turned on his heel and stalked toward the bow.
Why was he so rotting stubborn when it came to that woman? She brought out the worst in him.
And why did Prince Oren insist on shackling him with ZolZan the Barbarian? Surely she could be more useful anywhere else.
But no. Here she was. Part of his team.
The weight of leadership pulled on his shoulders, a burden he wasn’t sure he wanted but had no choice but to carry. He was responsible for these people now. For getting the answers they needed. For keeping them all alive.
Including Zanna.
He huffed. She probably thought she was in charge.
The Zephyr creaked through the waves, the coast looming in the distance. The real danger lay ahead, and like it or not, he and Zanna had to figure out how to work together.
Even if it killed them.
Or drove him mad.
Or worse—
Made him like her.
THE END