15. Adelina #3
The image strikes too hard. My mouth closes.
She softens her voice. “We’re arranging transport across the Celestial Sea, but it can’t be through a public port. Not now. The ports are watched, the official ferries are compromised, and the smuggling routes are suddenly full of men who’ve remembered their loyalty to gold.”
“So there’s no way.”
“I didn’t say that.”
I look at her. Nara rises and crosses to a small table near the window.
There’s a map spread over it, weighed down by shells and knives, the coast drawn in more detail than any map Freya showed me.
Tiny coves mark this stretch of the western coast. Hidden inlets.
Old fishing paths. A broken line across the water toward an island chain, then beyond that, the sacred shore where the Sea Temple waits.
Nara points to a cove south of the nearest port. “There may be a way from here.”
“May be?”
“The tide has to be right. The patrols have to shift. The boat has to be small enough to slip through the rocks and strong enough to cross open water before dawn.”
“Who is taking me?”
“If he stops arguing, a man named Oren.”
“Does he know who I am?”
“Yes.”
“What is he arguing about?”
“He argues with weather, fish, rope, gulls, and any poor bastard who breathes too loudly near his boat. It doesn’t mean he’ll refuse.”
Some of the panic loosens despite myself. Only a little. Enough to breathe.
Nara turns from the map. “But we can’t move you tonight.”
“What?”
“Your fever only broke this morning. Your foot is swollen. The magic you used nearly emptied you. If we move you too soon, you may die on the crossing.”
“I’d rather die crossing than be taken back.”
Nara looks at me for a long moment. When she speaks, her voice is quieter. “I know.”
I believe her. That is the strange part. She may not know the feel of Varek’s hand beneath my chin or the burn of the whip that leaves no wound, but enough. Freya’s people know enough to open doors. To hide me. To risk soldiers at their hearths and worse for my sake.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“For bringing this to you.”
“You didn’t bring it.” She gestures toward the window, toward the sea, toward the kingdom beyond. “It has been here for years.”
I look down at my bandaged foot. “What happens if the prince finds this place?”
Nara is silent.
My stomach turns. “He’s close.”
“We know.”
“You said the Elyrian prince was still hunting me.”
“The prince is not a fool. He’ll keep moving west.”
The thread in my chest tightens at that. I press one hand to my sternum.
Nara notices. “The pull?”
My head jerks up. “You know about that?”
“I know enough to recognize the face of someone trying not to feel what she feels.”
Heat rises to my cheeks despite everything. “It’s nothing.”
“Perhaps.”
“It’s magic from the contract.”
“No contract does that. You have been raised behind walls. There are things you were not taught.”
I look away. I can’t talk about this. Not now. Maybe not ever.
The pull has been there since the meeting chamber, quiet at first. Then sharper in the forest when he found me.
When his fingers touched my cloak, it became fire.
For one impossible second, before the moonlight took me, I felt him.
Not as a prince. Not as a threat. As something terrifyingly near, something my own body recognized against my will.
Then he commanded me. And whatever that feeling was shattered beneath fear.
I don’t know what to do with that. Both things were real. I can’t make them fit together, and I’m too tired to try.
Nara doesn’t press. Instead, she returns to the bed and checks the wrap around my foot, fingers gentle and efficient. “You need food. More tea. Then sleep again.”
“I’ve slept for a whole day.”
“You were unconscious for a day. That’s not the same as resting.”
“I can’t keep sleeping while everyone is risking themselves for me.”
“You have to keep living while everyone is risking themselves for you.”
I close my mouth.
She gives the bandage one final adjustment and tucks the blanket over my legs. “That’s the bargain, Princess. We hide you. You live long enough to make it matter.”
I look toward the window again. The glass is too warped to show the sea clearly, but I can hear it, a deep, constant sound beneath the wind. The water is close. The temple is closer than it has ever been.
But soldiers fill the ports. My brother is searching. The prince is coming.
And I have lost precious time.
My hand closes around my mother’s necklace, and for the first time since the moonlight took me, I let myself whisper the truth. “I’m so tired.”
Nara’s face softens. “I know.”
“If they come...”
“They’ll have to come through us.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
She does not answer with easy comfort. I’m grateful for that.
Beyond the window, the sea continues its endless breathing, close enough to promise sanctuary and far enough to be cruel. I close my eyes. The room is warm, my foot is wrapped, the pain is dulled, and for the moment, no one is dragging me back.
For the moment, I’m still ahead of them.
For the moment, I’m still free.