Chapter Eleven
Rafe’s idea of ‘somewhere to talk’ apparently meant a brothel.
Two ladies stood outside of The Crimson Dream draped in silks and laces of various colors.
The fabric swathed their curves and brightened their pale skin.
They unashamedly called out to passersby, sometimes cupping their breasts to better display their assets.
As Rafe approached, the sales pitch quieted and the girl on the right greeted them with a more genuine smile. “Visiting Lady Carmine again?” she asked with a suggestive wink.
“The one and only,” Rafe replied, grinning as they tugged Emmaline into the brothel.
Without the scar and eyepatch, their smile seemed more genuine and cheerful.
It was like the air of mischief and mystery had been wiped clean from their face, leaving a blank slate that only raised more questions for Emmaline.
An older woman stood behind a counter near the front door. Her white hair shimmered under the golden candlelight and delicate wrinkles accentuated her shapely lips and bright eyes. As soon as she saw Rafe, she held out a key to them and an empty palm.
Rafe dropped a few coins into her palm and snatched up the key. “My guest and I will need absolute privacy.”
“Of course,” the madam replied, her voice low and sultry. “Lady Carmine always gives her clients her full attention.” Her eyes slid over Emmaline without sticking before she turned her attention back to the door.
“You’ve brought me to your mistress?” Emmaline hissed.
“Safest place on the island.”
“But the whole crew knows you frequent her! This is the first place they’ll look!”
Rafe ignored her as they guided her all the way up to the third floor, to a single locked door.
They unlocked it to reveal a room decorated in red silks and dark velvets.
The center of the room had a sitting area that could comfortably entertain four or five guests.
The far-left corner had a large wardrobe and a dressing screen with black silhouettes painted on each panel.
The silhouettes were of a man and a woman dancing toward each other until they kissed in the middle panel.
The right corner of the room held a massive four-poster bed, the red curtains hiding what lay beyond.
Emmaline kept her eyes on those curtains, expecting Lady Carmine to emerge from them in an artful state of disarray.
Rafe never bothered to look at the bed as they closed the door. They flipped the lock shut again and walked around the room like they owned the place, heading straight for the wardrobe and rifling through its contents.
A few minutes passed. Emmaline looked between the locked door, Rafe, and the bed. Since they seemed preoccupied and not ready to talk, she approached the bed and peeked behind the curtain.
It was empty. Apparently, Lady Carmine wasn’t in residence.
Since they were alone, it should be safe to talk.
“Who are you really?” As Emmaline asked the question, she turned to look at Rafe, only to find them stripping out of their clothes.
Their back was to Emmaline so all she could see were their bare shoulders and narrow waist. They kicked off their trousers and stepped into a red dress puddled at their feet, then quickly pulled the bodice up to cover their chest. Though the dress looked expensive and complicated, the simple style of the buttons allowed Rafe to fasten them alone.
“I’ll explain once it’s safe,” they said, their voice changing once again to a musical lilt. When they turned around, a beautiful woman stood in their place with long red hair cascading down her shoulders. Large breasts that were certainly not there before spilled out of her bodice.
Emmaline’s eyes locked on the generously exposed cleavage. Do they feel real? Heat burned her cheeks at her inappropriate thoughts.
“Get on the bed,” Rafe demanded.
Emmaline gaped at him—them—her. “Excuse me?”
A distant bang made her whirl around to face the door. Shouting came from downstairs as a newcomer argued with the girls.
Rafe grabbed Emmaline’s shoulders and walked her backwards until her knees hit the edge of the bed and she fell onto it. It bounced with her weight before settling into a soft indent cocooning her body.
Then Rafe climbed on top of Emmaline, one knee straddling each side of her hips, and spread her skirts out around them.
“Rafe!”
“Lady Carmine,” she corrected. She leaned forward, covering most of Emmaline’s body with her own. Her breasts pressed against Emmaline, who discovered that they did, in fact, feel soft and plush and very, very real.
Footsteps banged up the stairs. A moment later, the door burst open. “Where are they—” Nico’s voice cut off.
Lady Carmine looked over her shoulder, her sultry lips pursed in a pout. “Excuse you, sir. I’m with a client and she did not pay for additional guests. You’ll have to wait your turn.”
Nico ignored her and stomped toward the bed, thrusting the curtains open the rest of the way.
He scanned Emmaline’s face and her heart pounded as she waited for him to recognize her.
But the glamour did its job, and his eyes slid right past her.
He took in her sprawled position and her hands—which had somehow ended up cupping Lady Carmine’s breasts—and quickly dismissed her as a customer.
He bent over to check under the bed, then searched behind the dressing screen and inside the wardrobe on the other side of the room.
Last, he tried to check the window, grunting, and straining against it as he failed to pry it open.
“It’s painted shut, I’m afraid,” Lady Carmine replied, standing up and fixing her dress. She stood in front of Emmaline to offer her ‘client’ more privacy. “May I ask who you’re looking for so frantically?”
Even the cadence of her voice and her vocabulary had changed.
If Emmaline hadn’t watched Rafe transform into Lady Carmine, she would never believe they were the same person.
That type of skilled glamour was exactly how Niall fooled everyone at Causley Estate.
Dread raised gooseflesh over Emmaline’s skin, and she scooted further back on the bed.
“Raphael Hackett,” Nico snapped. “I know he came here after he ran off with the captain’s daughter.”
Lady Carmine arched a brow and pouted her luscious scarlet lips.
“Are you saying he’s found someone else to shower his affection upon?
Pity, I did enjoy his company. Unfortunately, he hasn’t seen fit to introduce us yet, which I fear may mean I’ve lost a valued customer.
” She cupped her cheek with a graceful hand and sighed dramatically, breasts heaving.
Nico rolled his eyes but finally decided there was nowhere else for Rafe to hide. “If you see him, tell him he’d better return to the ship on his own before the captain finds him.” He cast one last glance at Emmaline before storming out of the room and down the stairs.
Emmaline sat up on the bed, waiting to speak until they knew he was gone for good.
Lady Carmine closed the door and leaned against it in a distinctly inelegant slump. “Never did like the prick.”
“Who are you?” Emmaline demanded again.
“Right, time for proper introductions.” Lady Carmine returned to the wardrobe for a new outfit.
This time, she chose to change clothes behind the dressing screen.
The person who stepped out from behind it was the same androgynous version they’d become after removing their eyepatch.
“My friends call me Echo; my real captain calls me a pain in the ass.” They offered a cheeky grin and a hand to Emmaline.
She blinked and shook their hand in a daze. Several questions flitted through her mind at once but the first one she blurted out was: “So, you really are a mage?”
“Not classically trained,” Echo replied, dropping onto one of the nearby couches.
They spread their arms over the back and rested one foot on the other knee.
“I don’t have a mentor, and I didn’t spend decades studying from dusty books if that’s what you’re thinking.
I know a few tricks, mostly glamours and the like. They come in handy for the job.”
“And your job is …”
“Top secret,” they replied with a wink. They didn’t even let the joke sit before bursting into laughter and explaining, “I’m the first mate of Captain Moira Rhosyn of The Queen’s Garden.
Also known as Everett’s biggest rival. They’ve been fighting over territory for years: trade routes, fences, hideouts, everything they can squabble over. ”
“So you don’t really work for … Everett.” Emmaline wasn’t sure how to refer to the man, but after witnessing him bargaining with Varro, she didn’t want to call him ‘father.’
“Rafe Hackett does,” Echo replied with a shrug. “Unfortunately for Everett, Rafe only exists in this eyepatch.” They pulled the black circle from their pocket and tossed it onto the table in front of them. “Worked for that prick for almost two years before I got the good dirt on him.”
“The good dirt?” Emmaline echoed.
“His relationship with Varro. Y’see, some of our mutual clients are legitimate.
They don’t mind working with pirates, but they do mind pissing off the government.
Once the Bellacosta Coup failed, my captain cut ties with anyone named as traitors.
All those old council members who betrayed the king?
Our captain’s ordered us to drown ‘em, skewer ‘em, what have you, then delivery their heads to the king.”
Emmaline’s lips parted in shock. “Did Silas really order their deaths?” It shouldn’t have surprised her—the traitors had tried to kill him more than once.
He deserved to take whatever measures he deemed necessary to protect himself and his country.
But she remembered the man who had mourned the death of the soldiers sent to drag him back to Alistair.
Remembered his anger and sorrow, how he defended them even as he acknowledged the danger they posed.
That didn’t seem like a man who would hire pirates to kill for him.
“Silas?” Echo repeated. Then they sat up straighter, eyes narrowing on Emmaline. “Wait, you’re on first name basis with the king?”
“I—” Emmaline shrank back, startled by their sudden enthusiasm.
Sensing her hesitancy, Echo settled against the back of the couch and held up their hands in a gesture of peace. “Sorry, sorry, just wasn’t expecting that.”
How would they react if they knew about Emmaline’s close friendship with Archer? She decided to keep that bit of information to herself. “He’s my friend,” she whispered softly.
“Captain’ll be thrilled, honestly. She’s been looking for an in with Bellacosta for years. When she finally found one, he was on shaky terms with the king at best, but wait until I tell her you’re an actual, genuine friend.”
Emmaline did not particularly want to meet another pirate captain, and she still didn’t trust the shapeshifter who had first kidnapped her.
But the problem with being stuck on an island was that she could only leave it on someone else’s ship.
She didn’t have the funds to pay for her passage, and she wasn’t prepared to tuck her tail between her legs and seek out her father.
Although she would like to hear an explanation about his relationship with Varro, she didn’t know him enough to parse out the truth from lies.
Whatever trust they’d built during her stay on his ship had already snapped like the thinnest twig.
Her best chance to get off the island would be on Echo’s ship.
“When we met, you said you could send a magical message. Was that a lie?”
“Oh, that?” Echo scratched their chin, eyes downcast. “That uh … I’m still learning that trick.”
Disappointment coursed through her, but she quickly shook it off. Regardless of their ability to send a message, her goals remained the same. “Can your captain get us off the island?”
“Yes! She’s got a sloop waiting at the docks for us as soon as its safe.”
“Were you already planning to leave the Eyolf?”
“Sort of. We try to meet up wherever the Eyolf docks in case I need a fast getaway.”
Emmaline nodded. “Good. If I arrange a meeting with Silas, will your captain promise to take me to Litus?” At this point, she didn’t trust anyone outside of her personal circle to help save her mother.
Echo’s eyes lit up. “I can’t speak for her of course, but if I had to guess … absolutely she would.”
Finally, it seemed like Emmaline’s luck was turning for the better.