Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chloe
The wind off the cliffs cut sharper than any blade Chloe had faced in the training rings, carrying with it the scent of salt and smoke as she stood at the edge of Hespali’s harbor.
Below, the sea churned in restless waves, slate-gray beneath a clouded sky, as if the world itself had not yet recovered from what had been awakened beneath the mountains.
Ships dotted the water.
Not the modest vessels of trade or diplomacy that often graced Nexos’s ports, but warships—sleek, dark, and bristling with intent.
Their sails were not pristine whites or royal silks, but weathered canvas marked by wind, battle, and time.
Each hull bore scars, each mast a testament to survival rather than ceremony.
At their center sat the Parataxis.
Even from this distance, Chloe recognized her immediately—the sharp cut of the hull, the reinforced sides, the quiet dominance she held over the surrounding fleet. Home. Or at least, the closest thing to it she had felt since leaving Nexos.
“She made it.” Farah’s voice came low beside her, but Chloe could hear the thread of relief woven tightly beneath it.
Chloe nodded once, though her chest remained tight. “She always does.”
Footsteps echoed behind them across the stone terrace, measured and deliberate. Chloe didn’t need to turn to know who approached. Her aunt had even more of a presence now than when they first arrived in Hespali. She would almost miss it. Almost.
The queen moved like winter itself—silent, inevitable, and cold in a way that seeped beneath skin and into bone. Halius followed at her side, ever the shadow carved from stone, while Acacius lingered just behind them, his presence quieter today, though no less watchful.
“Your captain has arrived,” Avra said, her voice carrying easily over the wind.
Chloe finally turned, meeting her aunt’s gaze. There was no warmth there—only calculation, sharp and precise. “She has. And she didn’t come alone.”
Avra’s eyes flicked briefly toward the fleet below. “Ten ships,” she noted. “Impressive.”
“Necessary,” Farah interjected, stepping forward just slightly. “If what we felt at the ball was any indication, Hades is not waiting for us to be ready.”
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Avra’s face at the name, but it vanished just as quickly. “No,” she said quietly. “He is not.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the crash of waves against rock far below. Then Chloe straightened, forcing her voice into something steady, something royal. “As promised, we will need the support of your full fleet.”
Avra studied her for a long moment, as if weighing not just the request, but the girl making it. Then she turned slightly, her gaze drifting once more to the ships waiting below.
“I will not strip Hespali bare,” she said at last.
Chloe’s jaw tightened. “If Nexos falls, it will not matter how many ships you have left to defend these shores.”
“And if I give you everything,” Avra countered smoothly, “and Hades turns his attention here instead, what then? Do I sacrifice my people for yours?”
The words struck, not because they were cruel—but because they were logical. Tactical,
Chloe stepped forward. “This isn’t just Nexos. If he rises fully, there will be no ‘your people’ or ‘mine.’ There will only be what’s left.”
The wind howled between them, tugging at Chloe’s cloak as if urging her forward.
Avra exhaled slowly, then lifted her hand. “Five ships,” she said.
Farah stilled beside Chloe.
“Five now,” Avra continued, her tone final. “They will sail with your captain and reinforce your fleet immediately.”
Chloe’s fingers curled at her sides. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. “And the rest?” she pressed.
Avra’s gaze sharpened. For a moment, something almost dangerous flickered beneath her composed exterior. “The rest,” she said, “will remain here.”
Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but Avra raised a single hand.
“You will take this.” From within her cloak, she withdrew a sealed letter, pressed with the royal sigil of Hespali.
The wax gleamed darkly in the gray light.
“My sister, Giselle, will understand what it means,” Avra said, extending it toward Chloe.
“If the war reaches Nexos—if it becomes clear that Hades has set his sights beyond these waters—I will send everything I have.”
Chloe hesitated only a moment before taking it. The parchment felt heavier than it should. A promise. Or possibly a threat.
“I’ll make sure she receives it,” Chloe said quietly.
Avra’s lips curved faintly, though there was no humor in it. “See that you do.”
Silence settled again, heavier this time, until Acacius finally stepped forward. “I’ll go with them.”
Both Chloe and Farah turned toward him and Farah let out a snort.
Avra’s head tilted slightly. “Will you?”
“There’s too much at stake,” he replied, his tone calm but unyielding. “Plus, I’ve quite liked training beside Farah these past weeks. Besides, wouldn’t you like an extra set of eyes on the state of Nexos?”
Chloe watched him carefully. There was something else beneath his words—something unspoken, something tied to everything he had warned Farah about.
Avra studied her son for a long moment, then inclined her head once.
“Very well,” she said. “You will act as liaison between Hespali and Nexos.”
Acacius bowed slightly. “Perfect.”
The docks were chaos. Crewmembers shouted orders across the decks, ropes were hauled, sails adjusted, crates loaded with practiced urgency. The air buzzed with movement, tension, anticipation.
Kire stood at the base of the gangplank of the Parataxis, arms crossed as she watched them approach. Her dark hair whipped wildly in the wind, a grin already tugging at her lips.
“Took you long enough,” she called.
Chloe couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at her own mouth. “You brought half the eastern waters with you.”
Kire’s grin widened. “Only the ones worth having.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Acacius, assessing, calculating. “This one?” she asked.
“An ally,” Chloe said simply. “For now”
Kire hummed, unconvinced but willing to accept it.
Behind them, footsteps approached once more. Chloe turned as Marokos came to a stop before them, a glimmer of respect and dare she say relief flooding his eyes.
“You survived, remember that, Chloe” he said, putting his hands on either of her shoulders.
“Barely,” Chloe replied, with a light chuckle.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “That is the only way anyone ever does.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Markos took her further into an embrace. “You are ready,” he said quietly. “Whether you believe it or not.”
Chloe swallowed, nodding once. “Thank you,” she said.
He inclined his head, then stepped back, his gaze shifting briefly to Farah, then to Acacius. Avra and Halius remained further up the dock, watching from a distance—untouchable, unmoving, as if carved from the very stone of Hespali.
No grand farewell.
No ceremony like in Nexos to bless the Grechi for a safe journey.
Only the quiet understanding that whatever came next would change everything.
“Alright,” Kire called sharply, clapping her hands once. “If you’re all done with your sentimental goodbyes—get on the ship.”
Chloe huffed softly and turned, stepping onto the gangplank. Farah followed close behind, her shoulder brushing Chloe’s as they boarded. This time, she didn’t lean away.
Once aboard, Kire turned to face them fully, her expression shifting—less amused now, more serious.
“You should know something,” she said.
Chloe crossed her arms. “That sounds ominous.”
Kire’s grin returned, sharp as a blade. “The crews on the other ships? They’re not soldiers. Not nobles. Not anything you’re used to.”
Farah raised a brow. “Then what are they?”
Kire’s eyes gleamed. “They’re mine. A league of pirates,” she continued, almost proudly. “The kind that don’t answer to crowns or courts. They’re here because I asked—and because they’d like nothing more than to watch the world burn if it comes to it.”
“Then we’ll try to stay out of their way,” she said dryly.
Kire laughed, loud and unrestrained. “You’d better.” She turned sharply, shouting orders to the crew as the sails began to unfurl above them, snapping in the wind.
The ropes were cast off.
The Parataxis lurched forward.
And slowly, steadily, Hespali began to fade behind them.