8 Theodore
Theodore
There had been no one at my door, but I took the opportunity to leave and cut my way across the quiet deck, from the stern to the bow.
I had the mad impulse to throw myself over the rail, to let myself sink through the open water, in some overdramatic bid to feel like the walls of the ship and the weight of my crown had not turned crushing.
Not a trace of the ceremony remained. No vines encircled the masts; the altar was gone.
But the blood-coated ring Halla had given me still sat upon my finger.
I stood alone on the forecastle, with nothing but glittering darkness above and below me, and worked the ring back and forth until it slipped free.
I stared at it. I could still feel the disturbingly gentle press of Halla’s mouth on mine.
The stain of her skin on my fingertips, the bumps of those strange scars.
It was clear she’d not given all of them to herself, not with how exact and encompassing they were. They stretched around her back, toward her spine. After days of combing through those books on magic, I knew the purpose of every mark etched into her body.
Each strip of flesh had paid for a spell.
The knot in my stomach only tightened as my understanding of Halla—and her diabolical, tenacious mother—grew. I set my forearms against the rail, holding Halla’s ring between my fingers. Then I let it go.
Armor clattered up the ladder behind me. The quick footsteps spoke of purpose. I kept my back to them, eyes on the bowsprit, and cleared my throat. “Not now.”
But the guard came to stand beside me.
“I said—”
“Just a quick word, Your Majesty.”
I jolted at that gruff voice. Whirled toward it. “Lach—you fucking bastard.” I reared back a fist and sent it right into his chin.
He took the hit well, snapping his head to the side, gripping the rail tightly with one hand. It gave me no satisfaction at all.
“I already apologized to you,” he finally said.
“That’s not enough.” I shook out my fist. “The council proscribed her because of you.”
Slowly, he straightened and dared to meet my eye. “I didn’t vote, Theo.”
“Precisely,” I spat. “A nay vote would have kept it even. Your silence broke the Godsdamned tie.”
Lachlan looked at the deck between us, somber.
“And I’m sorry for it. I didn’t want to see her proscribed, Theo—for your sake—but she’s not…
” He gave a guilty shake of his head. “Her presence was affecting you. And Eftan was trying to claim you were unfit to rule because of it—I thought no action was the best action.”
I swiped a hand down my face. “I find that hard to believe. Considering how you burst into my locked chambers and threatened me with a council-led unbinding.”
Lachlan’s eyes fell shut. “I apologize for that too.”
I glared out at the expansive darkness, defeat swallowing me up. “What in the hell are you doing here, Lach? You were supposed to stay back at the palace.”
He gave me a level look. “I’ve come to reroute the ship.”
“Reroute the—” I gave an angry, disbelieving huff. “Reroute it to where?”
“Anthemoessa.”
My hand curled once more into a fist.
“That’s where your new mother-in-law took Agatha,” he said, sounding bleak. “To feed to Eusia.”
“Agatha.” A shock of cold raced through my chest. “You said you couldn’t find her…
She’s with the empress?” A woman who had done a host of despicable things in service of her saint.
I looked down over the main deck, making certain we were still alone.
“Eusia is on Anthemoessa? How do you know this?”
Lachlan’s mouth pursed awkwardly. “I have a source.” He rubbed at his jaw where I’d hit him. “I wouldn’t call it an overwhelmingly reliable source, but in this, I trust it.”
“Rerouting the ship is pointless if we can’t get onto the island.”
“You know me better than that, Theo,” he said.
“Nothing I do is pointless.” He made for the forecastle ladder.
“I thought you might have some misgivings, so I’ve taken Halla.
Figured that would make the council angry enough for you to relent—if they find out.
You’ll get her back once you’ve ordered the captain to reroute the ship. ”
“Fuck.” I rubbed at my brow. “Brilliant. You’ve stolen and likely terrified the one person I need to keep placated—”
“Reroute the Godsdamned ship, Theo.”
“Do you think doing so will make my council think I’m more or less fit to rule?” I took a threatening step toward him. “The irony isn’t lost on me that you’ve chosen to commit treason for the woman you love. I’ll tell you again, and I’m sorry for it, but we cannot get onto Anthemoessa—”
“We have a way.”
I stilled at the way he held my stare, suspicion carving through me. “We?”
Lachlan erred toward passivity in many things, and while he could be tactical when necessary, this was the first I could recall him scheming for something that was just for him.
“Yes,” he said, gaze tinged with desperation. “We.”
A bolt of lightning shot through my body as I grasped his meaning.
Imogen.
I grabbed hold of the rail. It seemed impossible that she might be this close, when I’d never felt farther from her. “Imogen’s on the ship.” I sounded dazed. “Where? Where is she?” I started for the ladder that led to the main deck.
“Uh-uh.” Lachlan yanked me back by the shoulder. “I’m happy to use her existence to force you to reroute this ship, but… Imogen doesn’t want to see you, just yet.”
I froze. “She doesn’t want…” I replayed his words three times.
Lachlan’s face went stony with discomfort. “It’s likely for the best, Theo,” he said. “But I know this sort of misery. I know how it makes you sick. Help me get to Agatha. Please. And I’ll see what I can do.”
Without hesitation, I yelled out over the deck, to any sailor who could hear. “Wake Captain Doxa and send her to my stateroom.”
One of the crew ran down the far passageway, toward the captain’s cabin, and Lachlan’s entire body went slack with relief. “I’ll speak to the captain with you.”
I nodded, realizing only now that he wore two swords, one at each hip, and they clattered as he started down the ladder, but I remained on the forecastle.
I needed a moment to rein in the overwhelming urge I felt to pummel him further, to use sword and threat to force him to take me to Imogen now.
But both my power and my longing were futile in the face of Imogen’s request.
To not see me.
I knew why. Besides being the most stubborn and determined woman I’d ever met, Imogen thought herself monstrous.
It was the lie Nemea had fed her since the day she was born.
Alongside that, she believed me to be better than I was.
She thought she was corroding the obscene shine of my crown, but in truth, all she had done was make me feel the true weight of it.
Being spurned was like a hot blade to the ribs, but I was buoyed by new hope regardless. I’d get us to Anthemoessa. For Lachan’s and Imogen’s sake. For the sake of the entire realm.
And then, whether Imogen liked it or not, she would learn one new truth: That I was just as stubborn and determined as she was.
There was no trace of Halla in my stateroom, save for her gown strewn across my still-made bed, and her white shift lying in a heap on my floor. One of the aft windows sat wide open to the night sky.
Lachlan paced just inside the door.
“Halla is with Imogen?” I asked, dubiously. “You think that’s wise?”
“Yes.” But he wouldn’t look at me. “Halla is very, very safe.” He opened the door and stuck out his head. “Where’s the bloody captain?”
He reared back when Captain Doxa materialized a moment later from the dark. She was bright eyed and fully uniformed, and came to stand at attention beside the polished center table with her hat tucked beneath her arm. “You called, Your Majesty?”
“I did—”
The closed door flew open once more and in strode Eftan, trailed by Markis, both of whom still wore their sleep clothes. Even my marshal, Aleka, arrived, looking as unruffled as usual. I glowered at the three of them. “I summoned only the captain.”
Eftan stepped forward, adjusting the blue silk robe that was tied neatly around his middle.
His thin hair was ruffled, and deep grooves from his pillow were carved into one of his round cheeks.
“Your Majesty, I heard the sailor’s call for the captain.
As you know, if there is disruption, it is always best to have your council nearby. For support.”
I gave him such a scowl that he blanched and looked to his feet, but I was no longer na?ve enough to believe that he was truly abashed. His every action was akin to a clawed hand, grasping for something that was not his, and now he sought to seize power that belonged to me.
Worse yet, Imogen was within his reach now too, and I had no doubt he would do anything and everything he could to ensure her demise. “There was no need to ruin your sleep, Chancellor.” I kept myself even. “Only Captain Doxa can help me with what I need.”
Eftan gave a curt nod and stepped back, hands flexing frustratedly at his sides, before he offered up a flourishing gesture as if to say Go on.
Markis and Aleka hung back, and I thought to send them all away before I spoke, but something in me wanted to see their reaction.
Perhaps my shock and churning emotions had my blood up.
All I knew for certain was that I wanted to see Eftan flail.
“Captain Doxa,” I said, giving her the full of my attention. “Please reroute the ship for Anthemoessa.”
The captain’s attempt at a lack of reaction was admirable, but she was unable to stop the momentary bulge of her eyes. At the edge of my vision, I watched Eftan choke on his air. Markis guffawed. Aleka’s dark brows rose only slightly. Just as I’d expected.
“Your Majesty,” said Doxa, taking a moment to adjust her hold on her hat. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t warn you of the dangers—”
“I’m aware of the dangers. I remember the history of the blight from my lessons.”