Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
HOOK
When Manuel and I enter the Portage Hall, Roc is already there.
A ribbon of smoke snakes from the end of his lit cigarette. He’s sitting at one of the porter desks, the chair rocked back, his boots crossed and propped on the edge of the desk.
“Finally,” he says, his head lulled back, his eyes on me.
I shiver despite the heat in the room.
It’s been hot these last few days with barely any wind and no rain in sight.
The worst possible conditions for a shipping route through the sirens’ mating territory. Heat agitates them and with a lack of wind, ships are at their mercy.
“Why are you here?” I ask Roc, trying not to sound accusatory. After all, he’s the interim leader of Darkland and soon-to-be official leader. He can go where he pleases.
“Are you not happy to see me, Captain?” The chair thuds forward when his boots drop from the desk. Ash falls from his cigarette onto the marble floor.
“That’s beside the point,” I say with a grumble.
He winks at me and takes a long hit from his cigarette. When he exhales smoke, he says, “I heard the awful news about Yal’s ship and came at once.”
I’ll just bet he did.
“What’s the word?” I ask the crew.
There are several pages, along with Manuel, and two young men from the telegrapher’s office as indicated by the circular patch on their uniforms.
The shorter of the two men steps forward and removes his hat, breaking the brim in his anxious hands. “We got word just an hour ago that Yal Mertz’s ship went down taking the entire crew with it.”
“I hate to say ‘I told you so…’” Roc says. “Well…Mertz isn’t here anyway, so I guess that is moot.”
“Roc.” I shoot him a chastising look, but he just rolls his eyes.
“We did warn him, Captain.”
“I warned him.”
“So you did.”
“And you sent him off anyway.”
Roc waves me away. “That’s what he gets for being a massive prick.”
The entire room has gone silent, watching this exchange. I’m the newcomer here. An outlier. The boyfriend of the future king. I barely hold weight. And yet, there is the sensation of held breath, as if they are all waiting for me to say something.
“We lower the flags to half mast,” I order.
“Right away,” one of the pages says, a young woman with dark hair pinned up in a bun. She scurries off.
“Send someone to Mertz’s house to inform his wife.”
“I’m on it,” another page says and disappears through the nearest exit.
“Let’s cross-check the cargo list on Mertz’s ship,” I go on. “And make sure we have adequate insurance to replace what the merchants lost.”
“Landee and I will work on that,” Manuel says, nodding at the young woman with the desk beside his.
“Looks like we have a new portage minister,” Roc says.
I come to a stop. “That’s not—no. It should go to—”
Manuel interrupts me. “Beg your pardon, Your Grace. But can you have the council assembled tonight? If so, I can draft the articles of induction so he can be sworn in immediately.”
“Yes,” Roc answers and smiles at me.
“Absolutely not! There is a hierarchy here and it must be adhered to and—”
“Yes,” Manuel says, his silver pen in hand. “There is a hierarchy, and the future king of Darkland has made a demand. We are meant to follow it.”
I glance at Roc, now leaning against the desk, arms crossed over his chest, his spent cigarette still smoldering in the nearby crystal ashtray. His smile widens, all teeth.
I don’t bother asking him if this was his plan all along.
I already know the answer.
Within a few hours, I’m in the high chamber with Roc and his council members. In order to be inducted onto the council, we need a majority approval first. That means four yays.
Roc stands at the head of the room, slightly hunched, his hands on the table, veins swirling over his knuckles. His jacket is off, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing all of the ink on his skin.
Looking at him, one would not automatically see a king. But I think that’s exactly why he makes such an impressive one, or soon-to-be. He doesn’t fit the mold.
In a chair on his left, I have a clear view of the entire council and despite the late hour, they are all put together, like they belong here, like they were born to lead a country.
I don’t really know any of these people, not personally.
I’ve avoided the council and the high chamber up until this point, telling myself that Roc and I were too busy for such frivolity. But sitting here now at the long, rectangular chamber table topped in gleaming marble, I realize that was an excuse to avoid feeling like an impostor.
I shift on the edge of my chair. The movement causes my hook to hit the marble and the metal lets out a loud ting.
Several councilmembers glance at me.
I just want this to be over.
This is a bad fucking idea.
I should just get up right now and tell Roc he needs to find someone else.
“Thank you all for reporting on such short notice.” Roc straightens and crosses his arms over his chest. All of the muscles in his forearms twine and dance.
“We just learned Mertz’s ship went down.
As you can imagine, I don’t want to leave his seat open for too long.
Imports and exports are some of our most important assets. ”
“But do you think it’s such a good idea to be nominating your boyfriend?”
That from a man down the table. I think that’s Kahl Evvie II, the merchant minister. I suppose he, more than anyone, should have an opinion on who the portage minister is, since much of what he oversees comes in through the harbor.
“Do you know who warned Mertz about the siren mating territories? The one who urged him to shift the shipping lanes?” Roc asks the council.
Of course they don’t know. They all remain silent.
“Captain James Hook,” Roc tells them.
I can feel them reassessing me.
“He has more experience on the seas than half the Seven Isles. He knows every season, every sea creature. He may be my boyfriend, but there is no one more qualified.”
Am I blushing? I am blushing.
I do not take compliments well and praise is even harder. Especially professional praise.
I’m a pirate. Not a businessman.
And yet my back straightens and my shoulders level out as if Roc’s words have filled my spine with steel.
“Very well,” one of the councilmembers says.
“I have no objections,” the woman down on the left says.
“To a vote,” Roc says. “All those in favor of Captain James Hook being inducted to the High Chamber as Portage Minister, say aye.”
All seven councilmembers say, “Aye,” in unison.
And so it is done.