Chapter 3
Lia twirled the stem of the little white clover flower between her thumb and forefinger. At some point during their escape, the princess had handed it to her expecting her to toss it away. Yet, with a thousand thoughts fluttering through her mind, Lia somehow forgot to do so.
“May I speak plainly, princess?” Lia asked, her gaze resting on the twirling white bloom.
Now it was Tavia’s turn to roll her eyes, an act princesses could do as often as they pleased. “Why? I already know exactly what you are going to say.”
“Alright,” Lia growled. “What am I going to say?”
“That Lord Tyrell is a good and worthy man and that I should really give him a chance.”
“So, why don’t you?” Lia huffed. That was precisely what she had wanted to say, but she did not want to tell the princess that. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing is wrong with him . . .” Tavia shrugged. “He’s just not the sort of man I fancy.”
This was an accurate statement, as Tavia only fancied men who had things wrong with them—case in point being Captain Julian.
“The captain . . .” Tavia started. “Well . . . it's there in the title, isn’t it? He’s a captain! He’s seen things, and done things Tyrell couldn’t dream of.”
“Like what?” Lia asked.
“Taken his crew into battle,” Tavia explained.
“When? I don’t remember hearing anything about a naval war recently,” Lia stated flatly.
Tavia furrowed her brow and twisted her lips.
“He’s made a name for himself battling sea monsters.
My father told me all about it. You know, I’m willing to bet that’s why his fiancees left him .
. . they could not bear the idea of losing him to the jaws of a beast!
” She stared off into the distance, looking particularly wistful.
“That can’t be the reason,” Lia objected. “Not for all seven of them.”
Tavia shrugged. “It might be.”
“That seems like something you should find out,” Lia suggested, weighing her words carefully in hopes that the princess would take her seriously. “Before giving your heart to him.”
“He’ll tell me when he’s ready,” Tavia dismissed.
Lia dropped a few steps behind Tavia so she could roll her eyes in peace.
The princess may have been willing to wait to learn such an important detail, but Lia certainly wasn’t.
Perhaps it was silly, but she felt responsible for her princess and could not stand by and let Tavia throw her life away because of some idiotic infatuation.
As she escorted Tavia to the stables, Lia began pondering where she could go to get more information on the mysterious captain.
Who were his former fiancees? Where were they now?
Was there any way to write to them and find out exactly why their engagements were broken?
Did anyone know why Julian had a blue beard?
(Not that there was anything wrong with that.)
King Frederich had arranged a hunt for the visiting nobles.
He said it was an opportunity for everyone to keep their senses sharp, but Lia saw the diversion for what it really was.
This was no afternoon excursion—the ride would take them nearly as far south as the shoreline cliffs—this was intended to be a full day affair.
One of the Iseldan princes had been badly injured in the magical attack at the ball, and King Frederich likely needed to get everyone out of his home for a few hours so he could have some peace and quiet with his family. She did not blame him.
Normally, Tavia had no interest in hunting, or horseback riding, or any kind of sport really, but Captain Julian was still at the castle and would be participating.
The nobles were buzzing with the prospect of seeing the slayer of sea beasts in action.
So of course the princess would be hunting—or, attending the hunt—as well.
The one good thing about the situation was that Tavia had given Lia the day off.
Or, rather, that was a bad thing. Normally, Lia would rejoice at the rare chance to do as she pleased for an entire day but she knew Tavia was up to something, so she was naturally suspicious.
However, she planned on using the day to her own advantage.
It was time to investigate the scoundrel that was Captain Julian Salamar.
And also, but unfortunately, Lia had a pretty good idea of where to start.
Lia supposed that even in the landlocked capital of Iseldis, the visiting sailors needed a place to feel at home.
The Bloody Kraken was just that sort of place.
The kind of place where sailors might go if they wanted to throw each other through the windows.
Lia had glimpsed the place as they rode into the city a week prior and made a mental note to give it a wide berth.
Now, as she stood outside, observing the sparkling shards of glass that littered the road, she could not believe that she was about to walk in of her own free will.
Before leaving the castle, she had carefully brushed out the delicate braids that usually made up her modest hairstyle.
Then, she had very carelessly backbrushed and rebraided the entire length into one long, messy plait and dressed in her simplest gown.
Even with those adjustments, she worried she would stand out.
Yet, it was a blatant fact that the best way to learn about a captain was to talk to the sailors he commanded, and the sailors Captain Julian commanded were probably spending their shore leave at The Bloody Kraken while they waited for their captain to finish consulting on the sea storms or whatever else it was that King Frederich had retained him at the castle for.
Lia took a deep breath. Even from the opposite side of the road she could hear the swearing, the crashing, and the shanties. This was not the kind of place that a royal handmaiden belonged.
It was then that a few sage words from her grandmother flashed across her mind. “Act like you belong, and nobody will believe you don’t.”
Lia set her jaw, marched across the road, and threw open the door as if she owned the place. The second she entered, a tidal wave of sounds and smells collided with her senses like a battering ram—smoke and singing, yelling, laughing, the clanking of glasses and the crashing of furniture.
A half dozen men were arguing about the results of a card game, others were scattered at tables throughout the room. Cups, mugs, and bottles filled every hand and spare inch of tabletop.
The one good thing about the situation was that Lia’s senses were so overloaded she could not feel her own heart racing. Still, she reached into her pocket and gripped the handle of the knife she had brought just in case.
She marched boldly up to the bar, ignoring the whistle of a grizzly wretch with a mermaid tattoo, threw down a coin, and opened her mouth to demand . . . when she realized she had no idea what to order.
Aside from the occasional glass of wine, Lia did not drink. What exactly was one supposed to order in a place like this anyway? The tavern keeper, a sticky man with a notch on the bridge of his nose, looked up at her expectantly.
“And what can I do for you, miss?” he asked, looking her up and down with an amused half-smile.
Lia thought of her princess, currently on a hunt with the most untrustworthy of men. The thought gave her courage and she gave the tavernkeeper in her most intimidating scowl. Sliding her coin across the counter, she said, “Mead.”
Mead . . . that seemed like a manly drink, right?
She breathed a sigh of relief when Notch-nose went to fetch it without comment.
Returning a moment later with a full glass, he said, “Will that be all, miss?”
Lia, maintaining her scowl, drilled into him with her eyes. “No. I was hoping you could help me with something.”
The sound in the room must have gotten louder, because Notchnose raised a hand to his ear. “I can’t hear you,” he yelled.
“I have a few questions!” Lia yelled. She slid another coin across the counter.
Notchnose raised an eyebrow, his patronizing smirk spreading up the sides of his face. “I might have a few answers.” His naturally loud voice easily carried over the din in the room.
Lia leaned forward, her throat already smarting. “Do you know a Captain Julian Salamar?” she yelled.
The entire tavern went completely silent. The clinking of glasses, the laughing and swearing of men, the shuffling of card decks, all stopped at once. Somewhere in the distance, thunder clapped.
Lia tried not to glance over her shoulders. She knew that every man in that room was staring at her, wondering why she dared ask such a question.
“Ol’ Bluebeard?” Notchnose breathed. “A pretty girl like you, ought not be asking questions about Bluebeard.”
Lia felt a chill run down her spine but managed to keep her composure.
“I’ll ask whatever questions I please,” she stated. “You said you had answers?”
A gaunt man with an eyepatch at the end of the bar, turned toward her and said. “Married, seven times, he was.”
“No, not married,” Notchnose corrected. “. . . they were gone before they ever made it to the aisle, they were.”
Lia leaned in closer.
“What happened to them?” she hissed.
“No one knows for sure,” Notchnose answered. “But ol’ Bluebeard . . . naw, he wouldn’t have ‘em. His only love’s the sea.”
A thousand “ayes” of agreement sounded from various corners of the room. Conversation began to flow again, but the room remained fairly quiet as it felt like most of the sailors were still listening in.
“Who were they?” Lia pressed. “Where can I find them?”
“Let me see now . . .” Notchnose pondered. “The only ones I know of were Jeanie Watertide and Nora Finn. Nice girls, they were. Used to come here all the time.”
Now, Lia did glance over her shoulder taking notice of the few female customers.
Perhaps she hadn’t noticed them before because they were just as grizzled and burly as the men.
One had a skull tattoo on her bare shoulder, the other was missing one of her front teeth—Did Nora and Jeanie have tattoos?
Were they strong enough to snap Tyrell in half with their fists?
“Were?” Lia pressed. “Are they . . . ?” Her heart was pounding so hard now, she hoped the sailors couldn’t hear it.
“No idea,” Notchnose shrugged. “All I know is they sailed off with him some years back, I haven’t seen ‘em since.”
“Well there must be someone who knows what happened to them,” Lia insisted.
She looked around the room, but all the sailors were conspicuously dodging her gaze.
“Some things are better left alone,” Notchnose warned. “Naught good comes from girls who take an interest in ol’ Bluebeard.”
It was at that point, Lia decided she had all the information she needed.
If a tavern full of burly sailors were terrified to even speak about Captain Julian, clearly he wasn’t fit for a princess.
She was going to return immediately and tell Tavia every detail of her adventure in The Bloody Kraken.
Surely, then she would realize nothing good could come of her fascination with the man.
Lia thanked Notchnose calmly and strolled confidently out of the tavern. The second she had crossed the road, her posture deteriorated and she darted home a trembling bundle of nerves.