Beautiful Liar
Chapter forty-four
Lucianna sounded different when she laughed.
At first, Finn had dismissed it. Told himself that was the case for many people.
Castien, for instance, had a laugh that did not sound the same as his speaking voice.
But that was because he was quite stern with most people, so it made a carefree laugh all the more distinguished.
His wife, on the other hand, sounded like a different person when she laughed. A soft giggle or muted chuckle fit in seamlessly with her voice. But when she laughed with abandon? If she were a sheet of music, that laugh was an entirely new key.
Finn studied her in the flickering candlelight.
Her hair was loose, hanging about her waist and grazing her arms when she moved.
It softened her appearance and transformed her from a hardened warrior to something closer to the nobility her title advertised.
She wore a cream dress with brown bows that almost matched the shade of her hair.
Wrapped about her shoulders was a sage-green shawl.
Finn could tell that she felt confident and at home in the ensemble by the way she moved and spoke with fluid elegance.
Her lips curved into a smile behind her teacup as she gazed at the collection of cards in her hand.
Lucianna had drunk quite a lot of tea since they boarded the boat.
Always with a healthy dose of honey. Another thing Finn brushed away until now.
Perhaps she had a sweet tooth, he’d reasoned.
But honey was not just a sweetener, it was also medicinal.
His wife’s gaze lifted from her cards and landed on him. She raised a brow.
“Finn, it’s your turn,” Castien smirked.
Finn glanced down at his hand. He’d forgotten what cards he had and what moves the other players had made. Wren shared an amused look with Castien. If only they knew that his admiration for his wife was mixed with apprehension.
He could not help but wonder: if she was hiding her voice—and he suspected she was—what else was she hiding?
Finn made a quick assessment and played a card. It might not have been the best move, but his mind was elsewhere. Lucianna frowned at his choice.
“Yes!” Kelwin cheered and set down his final card. “Tidesmark!”
“Congratulations,” Wren said with a bright smile.
Lucianna leaned toward Finn, her hair falling around her face.
“It teaches him nothing if you let him win,” she scolded in a whisper.
Finn stared into her eyes, studied the gold flecks swimming in her shifting irises. Tonight they looked more brown than green. He thought it fitting that even her eyes could change.
What are you hiding, little thief? And why?
He swallowed the question and replied, “I did not let him win. I lost focus and, therefore, lost the game.”
“Shall we play another hand?” Wren asked.
“I think I will retire for the evening,” Finn declared, and stood. “I will see you all in the morning.”
Everyone except Kelwin eyed him with curiosity. He did not indulge them by lingering or saying anything more. Instead, he turned and headed across the deck, pausing at the foremast to address the captain.
“Would you like any assistance before I head to bed?” he asked Kaiden, who was tightening a rope, a lantern attached to his thick leather belt.
The captain shook his head, scattering shadows with the movement. He had taken a brief respite after the fight earlier in the day, but it was not long before he was back to maintaining the ship.
Finn waited, and then when it seemed that was the only answer he was going to get, he returned to his original path.
He trudged down the stairs in the dark. It would have been wise to obtain a candle or lantern, but he’d been so tangled up in his thoughts that he’d forgotten.
Thankfully, there was a lantern hanging above Cora’s hammock that cast a small measure of light, just enough to illuminate the remaining steps to his bed.
Cora rocked beneath the lantern, her eyelids drooping as she attempted to read a tome.
She didn’t acknowledge his entrance. Petals slept next to her, his fingers tangled in the netting of her neighboring hammock.
Finn smiled at the sight as he pulled off his boots and lined them up next to his wife’s.
Their pallet, though meager, was kept immaculate, and not by Finn’s efforts alone.
He often woke before Lucianna, and when he returned to bed, she always had it made in an orderly fashion.
The sight made him feel more at home and settled him, if only a little.
He crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his legs. His mind was racing too much to sleep. If he thought he could get away with it, he’d have climbed to the crow’s nest again. But he’d worry his friends and make his wife more suspicious. So he settled for counting the slats above him.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Not long after, his wife came into view. She glanced over at Cora first, same as he had. Only, she weaved through the hammocks and removed the lantern from above the now sleeping alchemist and carried it toward Finn.
“You are behaving strangely,” she stated without preamble as she set the lantern down at the edge of the bed.
“Am I?” he rasped as he watched her collect a nightgown from her trunk.
She looked far too beautiful for a liar.
Finn wanted to come right out and ask her, but what if he was wrong?
Even if he wasn’t, there was a reason she was concealing her voice.
It could be what he told Wren not long ago.
Lucianna had been hurt. Finn knew she grieved as he did, both for mothers lost. But he thought there was something deeper than that, or perhaps layers that added to her burdens.
Either way, if he pressed her, she might shut him out again.
They had just begun to gain a sense of familiarity and camaraderie.
That was probably why the idea of her hiding from him stung the way it did.
“Yes,” she whispered. “You should not have lost that game, and you’ve been unnaturally quiet.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” He tried to infuse his voice with teasing, but he was tired. It was as though he had an anchor on his chest.
He’d told her about the academy, about losing Perci.
While he may not have given her every detail, he thought it was enough to warrant a measure of trust. Finn knew he had to be patient.
They hadn’t known each other very long, and they were in unique circumstances.
But it was difficult to contend with the idea that she kept something as basic as her voice from him.
He knew the voices of strangers on the street.
Of noblemen he’d only ever see at parties.
Tides, he knew the voices of the pirates they had killed.
But—aside from a laugh that may or may not be hers—he didn’t know his wife’s voice.
She’d given her vows in the cadence of a stranger.
It bothered him. Dug into his heart like a splinter beneath his nail.
Finn knew what it was to withhold trust, but he was still an open-hearted person.
He led with the beating organ in far too many instances. His wife seemed the opposite.
Lucianna stared down at him, her heart-shaped face twisted in concern.
“Something is wrong,” she insisted.
“Do I hear worry in your voice, wife?” he asked with a forced smirk. “Careful, I might begin to believe you care about me.”
Her eyes rolled.
“You are avoiding the question.”
Finn sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, then through his hair.
“I’m just tired, Lucianna. We fought for our lives. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a very long time, and it seems as though I will not have one until Eventide is over, if then.”
Lucianna studied him in the dim lantern light. She tucked her nightgown against her chest.
“Would you like me to sleep in one of the hammocks? Kelwin and Kaiden never sleep at the same time, so there is space.”
Finn pushed himself up so he was sitting straight. His entire being protested the thought of her being farther away. Even if she was lying to him, he didn’t want to lose what little closeness they had achieved.
“Why would you ask that?”
Lucianna gave him a dubious look.
“Because you said you haven’t slept well? I assume that has to do with my presence, so I was trying to be accommodating.”
“Well, don’t,” he said, then quickly continued when her eyebrows shot up. “I meant to say, you don’t need to be. My lack of sleep preceded our sharing a bed, and if Kelwin saw you in a hammock, he’d be disappointed.”
“Okay.” She dragged out the word. “I will stay, I suppose.”
“Good,” he breathed out, then went to lie back down.
Lucianna held up her nightgown.
“Could you step out for a moment so I can change?”
Finn sprung to his feet.
“Yes, of course.”
He stepped away from the bed and pinned up the curtain. Her shadow danced in the lamplight.
“Perhaps you will rest well after the exertion of the fight,” she offered.
Finn swallowed as he saw the outline of her gown drop. He dropped his gaze to his bare feet on the dark wood.
“Yes, I think so.”
Lucianna was not the only liar in the cabin that night.