Chapter 8
Ithrow myself through the side door and slide along the narrow hallway, my pulse thrumming in my ears. If anyone saw a pirate sneak into the castle, the alarm will sound any moment.
Silence looms through the winding passageway, and flickering oil lamps light the way. My feet pound against the floor as I race through the corridors I know nearly as well as my ship.
I stop at my door and glance both ways, my hand resting on the iron handle. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen for any voices—Caelus in particular. But there are none. I release a breath and ease it open.
Quiet fills the room, save for the hinges groaning as I pull the door shut behind me. I pad across the space, toward the dressing room, and catch myself in the mirror.
A hard, sea-battered face stares back, my blue eyes nearly glowing in the dim light.
Loosening my belt, I slide it from my pants and drop it to the floor as I step into the closet. Billowing dresses line each side, and I shuck off the remainder of the clothes, discarding them in a pile.
I pull open the armoire tucked into the far end and rifle through the contents, settling on a tunic and leggings.
Something brushes my cheek, and I reach up as the strands of my hair unspool, lengthening past my shoulder blades. Shutting the armoire with a click, I sidestep to the thin mirror. The glamour wanes, slowly. My hair reaches my waist, but the harsh line of my jaw and unfamiliar eyes remain.
Thea’s voice comes from the hallway, followed by a knock on the bedroom door—one that echoes through the room.
I freeze, and my stomach tightens. She has no reason to knock.
The door creaks.
“I’m not sure if she’s back from visiting her uncle yet.” Thea’s voice floats through the bedroom, amplified. “He’s fallen quite ill.”
I backtrack, bumping into the armoire. Visiting my nonexistent uncle is a common excuse Thea uses for my sudden disappearances.
She’s not alone.
The soft tap of her heels enters the room, followed by a pair of heavier feet. A sour taste fills my mouth.
“If she’s gone like you say, you wouldn’t mind me checking for her, right?”
Caelus.
My gaze darts to the pile of clothing I left on the floor.
I drop to my knees and shove them beneath the row of courtesan dresses, but a whimper escapes my mouth.
The dresses don’t reach the floor, so the pirate’s clothing pokes out like stuffing busting out of an armchair.
But I can’t open the armoire and risk making noise.
My chest tightens, a vise constricting my lungs.
“Well, Your Highness,” Thea says, her voice even and controlled, “she’s not here, but I’ll be happy to send word when she—”
“I’ll leave once I’ve looked everywhere.”
My heart skips, and I search the closet, but there’s nowhere to hide. I can’t conceal myself within the dresses or slide into the armoire.
A shadow pauses in front of the closet door.
Caelus hums. “This is an interesting belt.”
My stomach bottoms out.
“Sometimes my customers like to leave behind souvenirs,” Thea says.
“A pirate?” The belt buckle clinks, as if he’s turning it over in his hands. “You do know you’re forbidden from doing business with pirates. Or do you not remember what happened to Allissa?”
My breath hitches, pulse kicking up a notch. Allissa was caught having a relationship with a pirate, and Caelus made her watch as he executed him. Then he beheaded her.
“Oh, that doesn’t belong to a pirate,” Thea says, a slight tremor to her voice. “It was a nobleman here earlier. I really should return it to—”
“The skull on the buckle says otherwise.” He clicks his tongue. “But if it wasn’t you doing business with a pirate, I’ll have to assume it was Briar.”
Thea falls silent, but her thoughts are loud. Screaming.
I shake my head. No no no. She’s going to take the fall for me and admit to a crime she didn’t commit.
I glance once more to the mirror. Harriet’s face stares back—the glamour still solidly in place. I close my eyes and say goodbye to my ship, my crew, the sea.
Thea clears her throat. “I—”
“In here!” I shout. My breath catches. “I’m in here.”
My voice is weak, as final as my death sentence.
Caelus inches the door open, his fingers curled around the edge. Bile creeps up my throat, and I back into the corner, as if the short distance could spare me from what’s to come.
“Briar?”
The toe of his boot comes into view, and my heart pounds. I swallow and force my eyes open, gripping my hands together until they stop shaking. I’ll surrender with dignity.
He pushes the door open, illuminating me in a glow of dancing firelight. His face is cast in shadows, features unreadable.
“What are you doing in the dark?”
I hold my hands out. “I can explain.” But I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror—my eyes their normal blue—and clamp my mouth shut.
Thea appears over his shoulder. “Briar, I’m so—oh.”
“You missed dinner,” Caelus says, venom laced in his voice. “How are you meant to work, courtesan, if you aren’t present?”
I right myself, my head light and fuzzy.
“I’m sorry. I received word that my uncle needed me, and I lost track of time.
It won’t happen again.” I nod toward the belt clutched in his fist. “That’s his.
He collects odd items, and with his memory loss, he must have stuffed it into my satchel thinking it was his.
” I close the distance and pry it from his fingers. “I’ll be sure to return it.”
I angle myself between him and the clothes piled in the corner. Laying my palm against his chest, I guide him out of the closet and shut the door. Over his shoulder, I catch Thea’s wide-eyed stare. I give her a nod, and she returns it, disappearing into the washroom.
Caelus covers my palm and smiles down at me, his canines sharp. Firelight dances off the pale blue of his eyes, turning the whites an eerie crimson. He squeezes my hand and digs his nails into my skin. “Since you weren’t at dinner to speak with him, Dyerson is waiting for you in his room.”
“Tonight? But it’s so—"
“Or should I find someone better suited to do your job?”
I swallow and shake my head, my chest caving in on itself. “No. Give me a moment to freshen up, and I’ll be there.”
“Of course you will.” His smile grows. “Because you do as you’re told. You’re mine, after all. Remember?”
He drops my hand, and I inhale a slow, centering breath. I’m no one’s but the sea, I want to scream. But instead, I say, “Yes.”
He leans in, as if he’s going to press a kiss to my cheek, and whispers, “Yes, what?”
I grip the fabric of my tunic to stop myself from gouging his eyes out. His armada is killing my subjects at the war front—my mother the only thing keeping the massacre at bay.
Caelus is my enemy. I should be figuring out a way to kill him, not allowing him within an inch of me.
And yet.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“There you go,” he breathes.
My stomach roils, but I clench my jaw and school my face. I will not show him the fear or discomfort he craves.
He pulls open the door, where a guard awaits with twin blades strapped high across his back. The second Caelus’s heels clear the threshold, I shut the door and bolt the lock.
Thea emerges from the washroom, her hands wringing a towel. “I thought you were going to get caught.”
I slide to the floor and hug my legs against my body. The cold floor seeps through my leggings as I rest my chin on my knees and sigh out a breath. “Me too.”
“Don’t you dare do that ever again.”
I lift my gaze. “Do what?”
She kicks off her shoes and tucks them beneath the foot of her bed. Crossing the room, she slides down beside me and rests her head on my shoulder. “Don’t you ever take the blame for me again. He would have killed you if he walked in and found you as a pirate.”
“But if you were harmed, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
I shudder. If I lost Thea, I’d lose the last thing keeping me from diving into the ocean and ending this torture.
She sighs. “You entered, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head. “How are we going to pull this off?”
I smile against her hair. “We?”
“I don’t condone this, but I won’t let you do it on your own.” She pauses for the span of five heartbeats, her silence heavy in the air. “I’m scared I’m going to lose you. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. Does that make sense?”
Tears gather in my eyes. “That makes more sense than anything.” I take her hand and squeeze it. “Do you trust me?”
“To the ends of the earth.”
A single tear travels down my cheek. After everything she’s forgotten—our ship, Celia, me—she’s never forgotten the words we promised each other the day she became my first mate.
I swallow. “To the ends of the earth.”