Chapter 22
Roderick Bryson
Three days.
Three days Roderick wrestled for control of his mind.
He begged the Divine for relief. For silence.
For anything but the sickening twist in his stomach and cold sweat dripping down his back.
His flight with Yomira had only granted him temporary relief.
Once he’d hidden away in his cabin, the last of his courage vanished.
He didn’t have the guts to face any of the crew again.
Yomira would occasionally tap his porthole with her tail.
Twice he saw her tumble off the side of the deck trying to reach his porthole with her snout, then fly back up and try again.
Guilt gnawed at his bones, but it wasn’t enough to get him up.
The thought of contending with these voices with anyone around made him retreat further into himself.
Soon, he feared he would truly let go, that he would go up to the deck in the dead of night, tie the anchor around his ankle and be done with it. The cold waters promised to numb his pain and silence the voices.
Worthless, the voices hissed. You’re just slowing the expedition down. Yelling, screaming, threatening the Princess while children’s lives hang in the balance. You’re disgusting. And now look at you.
“No!” he screamed into his pillow, summoning the last of his defiance. “I want to help them. No one else can die…no one else can die…”
Great job you did protecting Millicent. That cane is a testament to your failure, and she lives with it every day. If you’d worked harder, been better, gained that title sooner, she would have never joined the Hounds.
How putrid must you be for her to have taken such a step to avoid your arms? Being with you was truly a fate worse than death. Torturing her with your advances, your touches—you truly are a rake.
How could you ever think Anya, a princess, would return your feelings? You trampled her during the evacuation. You embarrassed her in front of the Council. You screamed at her for all to hear.
And your precious “mystery maiden”?
The only reason she entertained you was the mask you wore; the shadow that concealed your wretched heart.
The hunger that built as the hours wore on was almost gratifying. Every pang in his stomach made him feel closer to his kind than ever—to the suffering they endured while his plate was always full. His grandfather may be dead because of him, but at least both his parents were alive.
Ellis and Millie’s adopted daughter had been through far more than him, yet she embraced them as her new family. She smiled through her sickness. She kept going despite it all.
So why couldn’t he do the same anymore? He’d done it for so long, even in the face of evacuation.
The door rattled as someone tried the handle, then knocked. The near hourly check-ins were beginning to grate his nerves.
“Roderick,” Octavio called. “You have to come out. You have to eat something.”
The knight should know by now that he wasn’t going to answer. Opening his mouth could unleash poison-tongued words he could never take back.
The door creaked and bowed as dark claws and ebony fingers shoved between the slivers on each side of the door. Roderick bolted upright as a fierce growl emanated through, then shot to his feet as the door was torn off its hinges with a deafening crack. The bar lock thudded to the floor.
Ornella’s braids flew behind her as she stormed in and yanked him by the collar.
“You are going to eat,” she growled, wolfish eyes glinting mad. “Now.”
That wasn’t a question.
Ornella kept him prisoner in her unnervingly strong yet motherly grip, wolfish eyes locked dead ahead. Octavio was nearly at his heel as they walked toward the galley.
Roderick gulped. This wasn’t just a dinner. Ornella was the first mate. Had Anya ordered her to fetch him so she could punish him publicly? Hear him out for show and then throw him in the brig?
It hardly mattered. He deserved either or both.
Octavio shut the door as they crossed the threshold. That wasn’t a good sign.
Roderick parried his eyes around the galley.
It was long past dinner. The moon was casting silver light on the rolling waves.
Bernard leaned against the wall with a mug in hand.
Annette was wiping tables clean from the last group of sailors.
A cup of water, bowl of stew, and a buttery-looking roll were neatly arranged at the spot Roderick always sat.
His stomach twinged, mouth watering at the sight.
Pathetic. It’s only been three days.
“Eat,” Ornella commanded, pointing to the stew.
It would be more pathetic to refuse like a petulant child.
He took a seat, alternating small bites of the roll and stew.
Octavio sat across from him, quietly flipping through a beaten-up tome titled Mid-Level Magic.
The knight wasn’t exactly a learned man, having joined the squires at sixteen to help keep a roof over his family’s head.
Roderick chewed slowly, watching Octavio run a finger along the same sentence over and over.
When had he taken up such an interest, and why?
A twinge of guilt nipped at him. He’d been so caught in the thorny thicket of his mind, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a normal conversation with Octavio. How was his family? Was he still interested in Lady Rowan? Was she the reason he was studying magic?
Roderick’s appetite roared to life with each swallow. Soon, he was wiping the bowl clean with the last piece of the roll.
“There. I ate.” He swiped a hand across his mouth and stood, scraping the chair on the boards. “I’ll be going now.”
Before I do something else I regret.
“No.” Octavio slapped the book shut. “We’re going to talk about the other day.”
“There’s nothing to speak of. You saw what I did.” He shoved his chair in and made for the door. Annette stood in his path, rag in hand.
“My Lord, we’re worried about you.” She wrung the cloth in her hands. “You didn’t seem like yourself that day. We miss seeing you in the galley, on the deck…” She sniffed.
Bernard slipped an arm around Annette. “Please don’t shut us out. Let us help.”
“Why do you care how I’m doing?” Roderick muttered. “You’re not being paid to care. There is no need to go above and beyond for my sake.”
“This is not about money,” Ornella added, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are a part of our pack.”
He shook his head. “I’m hardly worthy of such a thing.”
“Oh, I see,” Bernard mused. “You come from a perfect family where no one ever fought. No one ever had a bad day.”
He scoffed. “Far from it.”
“Then you understand why we insist it to be true.” Ornella smiled. “We are here for each other despite our mistakes.”
“We won’t ask you to howl with us though. Unless you want to!” Bernard laughed.
“No one wants to hear that, trust me.” Octavio jabbed him in the ribs. “The Commander’s got terrible pipes.”
“How about a pint while we talk?” Annette chirped, whisking to the kitchen before he could protest.
They arranged themselves around a table, shoving extra chairs on the end for Annette and Bernard.
Annette scurried back and forth, bringing two pairs of frothy ales and a cup of tea for herself.
Smiling, she settled into the chair and leaned on Bernard’s shoulder.
The baby squirmed under the wrap on her chest, nursing quietly.
Two lanterns hissed and glowed at both ends of the galley.
The ale in his mug shifted as the ship gently listed side to side.
“To friends, foes, and challenging woes,” Octavio cheered, raising his mug.
Friends. If only.
“Hear hear!” they answered. Roderick joined in quietly.
Octavio guzzled half his ale then wiped his mouth.
“What?” The knight held a hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t believe the week I’ve had without you topside.”
“I’m so sorry,” Roderick choked out, scrubbing his face. “How do I even start?”
“With a sip, perhaps?” Ornella swirled the golden liquid in her mug and took a hearty swig. “Loosen the tongue. Consider it a remedy I have prescribed. But only for tonight,” she said with a wink.
He obliged and took a sip. Memories of Anya’s inebriated kitchen raid slipped in behind the rush of alcohol. Damn it. She was there again. He’d holed himself up and she still managed to stick her muzzle into his mind.
Anya.
“Has An—” He caught himself. He was hardly qualified to use her name anymore. “Has Her Highness come out of her cabin?”
“Yes. Though she’s in and out constantly,” Annette said softly. Her tapered ears fell back.
He took another sip. “Why?”
She was normally damn near dormant when he was awake.
Bernard tapped his mug down. “Without you, all issues affecting route and speed had to go through her. There were more icebergs too. And with the star charting, she’s hardly slept a wink.”
“We offered to ask you those questions. We were sure you would not ignore a matter of duty, even if you did not come out,” Ornella added, “but she refused. We are bound to obey her command. But we are not asking those questions now, so we are not disobeying. We are just having a meal.”
Octavio drained the last of his ale with a satisfied smack of his lips. “Long story short, she’s been running herself ragged so you wouldn’t be disturbed.”
Even after what he did to her?
“You need to take over my duties, Octavio. Here and in Petorus.”
Octavio shook his head, blinking fast. “What? Why?”
The words rushed out of him. “My actions were not befitting of a knight. And if Her Highness does not strip my title, the Duke surely will.” A strange wash of relief followed the admission.
Octavio blinked again, then spoke. “Why would he do that? You saved his life. That’s ridiculous.”
“He told me as much before we left for Eteross—that I’d been spending far too much time away from Petorus. He ordered me to return after the Council’s final session.”
“But you were ordered to go on the expedition. The Duke cannot overrule the Crown, right?” Bernard asked.