Chapter 32 #2
“That’s very sweet,” she said, reacting to the compliment with an appropriate amount of bashful deflection by glancing down and allowing a shy smile to curve her mouth. She resisted the urge to adjust her neckline, instead leaning forward to grab a roll and give him an even better view.
Silence fell over the table again as Amaya nibbled at the roll. Deciding her plan would not work if they didn’t address Starcrest soon, she took the plunge.
“And Victor, really, I want to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t mean to . . . you know. I was scared, and overwhelmed, and I didn’t even know how to use the damn thing, and—”
“Amaya, it’s all right,” Victor said, cutting her off. “Sometimes we do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid. The physician said it should heal quickly, and there’s no permanent damage.”
Amaya monitored her expression, careful not to raise an eyebrow or frown at his easy acceptance.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” she said. “Our physician cleared me of insanity, so no worries there, either.”
The joke didn’t hit, triggering another bout of awkward silence instead.
“I really did miss you,” Amaya added, scrambling for something else to say. “I always had a feeling you’d be the one to find me.”
“I’m not sure I can take the credit for that. Some cabbie called claiming he’d spotted you. Speaking of, you’ll have to clear some things up for me.” Victor leaned in. “What were you doing at Starcrest? Where were you hiding? How did you get away?”
Amaya had thought long and hard about those inevitable questions and had a response prepared.
“Sebastian and Edmund swore off piracy. They left the Baroness with nothing. I was going to give them some of Mom’s jewels that my father keeps at Starcrest to help them get on their feet, in exchange for freeing me.
But the jewels were gone; he must have moved them.
” She avoided the hiding question, hoping he’d focus on everything else instead.
“As for how I got away, I jumped from Cam and my old cliff diving spot.”
Victor looked incredulous. “Amaya. You would rather jump off a cliff than let me take you home?”
Well, when he put it that way, yes. Yes, she would.
“Victor.” Amaya pouted, hoping she looked genuinely despondent. She kept her voice low so no one would overhear her condemnations. “You shot my friend. You threatened to take me to the Coil. You said I was insane. What did you expect me to do?”
Victor sighed, shoulders dropping. “I did, didn’t I? I . . . I’m sorry. You have to know I’d never have taken you to the Coil. Your father would have me executed right alongside the pirates if I tried.”
She believed he’d never have imprisoned her, but Amaya cared more about the second part of his statement. Her pulse quickened as the word hung in the air between them.
Executed.
She lowered her voice again, nearing a whisper. “They won’t really be executed, will they?” She sneakily reached a hand across the table to grasp his, running her thumb over his knuckles.
Victor withdrew his hand from hers. “I realize it’s hard to understand, but those men are criminals.
Perhaps they aided in your escape, and for that I’m grateful, but one good deed does not erase a lifetime of violence and debauchery.
They are not your friends, and they will be executed with their captain in a few days’ time. ”
Amaya’s breath caught, her hand flying to cover her mouth. She thought she might be sick at the confirmation.
Frantic, she searched every crevice of her mind for a way to fix this.
Think, Amaya. Think.
She had a couple ideas . . . but she needed a better gauge on Victor’s commitment first.
“Victor, I need you to be honest with me,” she said, straightening her posture and wrangling her composure. “Do you intend to continue pursuing this courtship?”
He blinked once. Twice. “Of course.”
“Why? Is it the influence? The estate? The money?” It certainly wasn’t self-respect. “I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away.”
He frowned, fingers tightening around his wine glass. “Walk away? After everything I’ve done to earn your father’s favor? No. I’m not so easily scared off.”
“Admit it, you don’t even like me.”
“Amaya, look at you. What’s not to like?”
His words took their time crawling across Amaya’s skin and sinking in. She repressed a shudder.
Victor sighed, seeming to hear himself. He reached across the table for both of her hands, squeezing tight.
“What I mean is, you deserve someone who appreciates your value and understands the legacy you carry. I can do that. As your husband, with your resources, I could help you maintain the life you deserve. I’ll protect you, guide you.
I’d never hold your worst moments against you; I have plenty of shortcomings on my own.
What happened yesterday is not worth jeopardizing our future together.
We’ll bounce back and be stronger for it. ”
Amaya read between the lines of his words, certain phrases jumping out to stoke the fire in her chest. Victor’s ambition and penchant for rule-following had elevated him beyond his middle-class family’s status.
Marrying the Lord Mayor’s daughter and inheriting his estate, his connections .
. . it would solidify everything he’d worked for.
She was just a prize to him—the championship trophy to show off for all his accomplishments. And even if he didn’t care about her, he wouldn’t risk losing everything by burning bridges with her father.
Amaya looked down with practiced grace, as if he hadn’t just insulted her in his display of faux magnanimity.
“Victor, I . . .” Her palms began to sweat in his grasp, and she pulled her hands back, wiping them on her skirt where he wouldn’t see. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t question your intentions. I only ask because . . . I want that, too.”
His dark eyes brightened. “You do?”
“Yes. I would love to marry you, really. But if this is how we’re starting things, I .
. . I can’t.” She paused for dramatic effect, then continued.
“I know you’re right, of course—they’re pirates, and they’re not innocent.
But without them, I’d still be in the brig of Graven’s ship and .
. .” Amaya let her voice crack. It wasn’t entirely fake.
“I’d never be able to forgive myself if they died for helping me.
And knowing you let it happen when you could have stopped it .
. . I would be constantly reminded. I couldn’t take it. ”
Conflict spread across Victor’s face as she delivered the ultimatum, forcing him to choose between securing the life he wanted and staying true to his convictions.
“Amaya . . .”
“Please. Imagine how happy we could be. If you could just do one thing for me, this one thing.”
Back and forth, back and forth. She watched the gears turn inside his head as he played out each scenario to its conclusion. Amaya almost felt bad for manipulating him, but he’d get what he wanted out of it. All he had to do was say . . .
“Oh . . . all right,” he finally relented. He lifted a hand to cup the side of her face, swiping back a stray curl. “I’ll see what I can do. I couldn’t bear causing you any more grief.”
Amaya nearly wept with relief, the weight of the world lifting off her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, entirely genuine for the first time tonight. “You’ll set them free?”
“They’ll face exile, of course, and a death sentence should they revert to piracy. But yes, I should be able to pull some strings.”
He didn’t sound happy about it, but Amaya couldn’t care less.
“Tonight?” she asked.
“You’re not making this easy.”
“What if tomorrow is too late? I want it taken care of tonight.”
Victor glanced away, sighing. Amaya knew how he felt. They’d both get what they wanted, but the cost was her dignity and his honor.
“Fine. Tonight,” he relented.
Amaya’s shoulders dropped, every tense muscle in her body releasing as she beamed.
“Thank you,” she said. “Truly. Thank you.”
But her victory came with another price: a hidden fee she’d failed to budget for. Victor reached into his pocket, and hesitated.
“This isn’t how I imagined doing this,” he said. All the knots in Amaya’s body pulled taut once more, blood draining from her face. “But knowing you want it too makes it easier.”
Victor stood, producing a black velvet ring box and painstakingly lowering himself to one knee. His injured foot made him unsteady and Amaya reached out, grasping his shoulders.
“Victor, it’s okay, you don’t have to,” she said, a note of desperation in her voice. She didn’t want this, hadn’t meant for it to escalate this far right now.
“No. I want to.”
Amaya didn’t hear what he said next. Her senses dulled like she’d been plunged underwater and was now sinking to a watery grave: the most dreaded end imaginable for someone who belonged in the sky. She was suffocating, water infiltrating her lungs as unseen anchors dragged her down and—
Her senses cleared for one singular, startling moment as Victor concluded his accolades, opening the ring box to reveal a stunning diamond ring.
“Amaya Marjorie Sinclair, will you marry me?”