Chapter eight
TAVRIC
My mother’s words sat heavy on my heart. I hated that she had no confidence in my ability to rule on my own. The idea that my family needed to parade young women in front of me in the hopes that they could help me rule was humiliating. I’d get used to ruling. I didn’t have a choice.
So the very next day, I told myself that I would buckle down and accept my obligations with more grace and less trepidation. I could do this. I didn’t need to rope a young woman into marriage to hide my weaknesses.
But it didn’t matter how long I sat there, listening to advisors and trying to tell myself I was born for this—I didn’t get used to it.
It didn’t get easier. My panic and discomfort never ebbed, and instead I felt as if I were crawling out of my own skin, needing to escape the constant chaos and energy of so many people.
I wanted to be out on the water by myself, searching for Melody.
Or… Was that what I wanted? Yes, I wanted to escape, but was searching for Melody just an excuse?
Once all the petitioning nobles and clerics had been heard, I left the grand hall and retreated to my room, where I took off the stuffy formal robes and sat down.
My elbows dug into my knees as I pressed my hands to my face, trying to regain my composure as I forced myself to be honest about Melody.
I was immeasurably grateful that my life had been saved that night on the water.
I believed a mermaid had been the one to save it, and I would have appreciated the chance to thank her.
But did I actually need to find her?
No.
Did I even want to find her? There was a time when I had, but now I wasn’t certain. I wanted to sate my curiosity, and I wanted to get away from all the noise and people, but there were so many more important things I should be doing.
Either way, I had to do something, something other than sitting with the council like I was supposed to this afternoon.
The council would have to wait for another day, another time, and if my lack of tolerance for people and chaos was going to prevent me from being competent at my own duties, then I could at least fulfill a promise to Lyri and make my mother happy.
I’d promised Lyrielle I would show her more of the kingdom, and Mama wanted me to get to know her.
If I were honest, the idea of escaping out on the water with Lyri was not only strangely welcome, but it would also give me a chance to return her necklace. Was she royalty as I suspected?
I supposed I would find out. Yet even the idea of discovering she was royalty didn’t sound as exciting as simply watching her experience the ocean in daylight.
Less than an hour later, I found her helping a laundress hang clothes on a line, her braid draped over one shoulder.
She noticed me approaching and gave a small wave, which was all the encouragement I needed.
I walked up to her, nervous energy coursing through me, and blurted the words before I could think better of it.
“Come sailing with me.”
Her mouth fell open into a little O and her eyes widened.
“You want to see the ocean, don’t you?” It was one of the things she’d named that first day when I asked her what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go.
“I…” She looked over at her friend.
The laundress shook her head with a chuckle. “Don’t let me keep you. It’s a fine day for sailing, I’d imagine.”
“Very well.” She finished draping the fabric in her hands over the line and then turned to me.
“Wait,” the laundress called. She grabbed a finely woven shawl from a different line and tossed it to Lyri. “Take that. It’s windy on the water.”
Lyri caught it with a smile and wrapped it around her shoulders as she joined me.
Since I’d sent Harlan ahead to ready and stock my boat, it was only a matter of leaving the palace grounds and walking down the hill on the backside of the palace. A narrow path bent this way and that down the hill, and I had to slow my hurried steps to be certain that Lyri could keep up with me.
I stepped out onto the small dock and leapt onto my one-man skiff, my body adjusting easily to the swaying boat.
It was the only vessel I kept in this bay.
My other ships, including the galleon I’d been on when I found Lyri, were safely anchored in port.
Relieved to finally be free, I reached back a hand to Lyrielle with a pleased smile.
I was rarely happier than when I was on the water.
Unfortunately, Lyri didn’t seem to share my enthusiasm. She hadn’t even stepped onto the dock, but still stood on shore, as though uncertain she wanted to get close to the water. Both of her hands were wrapped around her braid, twisting it in agitation.
Fool, I berated myself. She’d nearly drowned last time she was near water. “I’m sorry,” I said, immediately returning to the dock and carefully approaching her. “I wasn’t thinking. You probably have no wish to be on another boat.”
Her nervous eyes darted to me. “No, I do.”
The sincere response surprised me. “You do?”
“Yes, but I just wasn’t expecting…this kind of unease. I don’t know why…”
I snorted. “I know why. It’s completely natural to be wary of water when it’s nearly killed you.” Even I had avoided the ocean for a few days after Melody had dragged me from its depths, and the water and I were longtime friends.
I watched her swallow before looking up at me with curiosity in her eyes. “Do you speak from experience?”
“I do.” I looked at her and then back at the boat, wondering what to do.
Now that we were away from the bustle of the castle, the humming panic in my chest had eased and my urgent need to be out on the water had abated.
“We could stay here if you prefer. It would afford us a lovely view of the ocean.”
She cast her eyes out at the horizon instead of fixing them on the water that lapped at the shore, and I watched the tension in her shoulders ease. “It’s enormous…unfathomable.”
“That’s what I love about it.”
After several moments, her eyes returned to the skiff. “Is it safe?”
“Perfectly. I promise you won’t fall overboard. Not on my watch.”
She took a deep breath, then nodded and reached for my hand. “Just don’t let me fall in.”
I took hold of her hand, surprised by how small it was compared to my own, and carefully led her down the dock until we came alongside the boat.
“Stay right there,” I said before releasing her hand and once again boarding my skiff.
Lyri still looked unsure, so instead of asking her to take the one precarious step into the boat, I simply reached out, wrapped my arm around her waist, and lifted her into the boat.
Her fingers dug into my arms and her breath caught. I looked at her face and realized just how close I’d brought her. As soon as her feet found purchase, I loosened my hold, my heart pounding strangely. There was something undeniably pleasant about having her pressed close to me.
When I encouraged her to sit on the bench at the front of the boat, she did so and was able to let go of my arms. She was a brave little thing, I’d give her that.
I looked around the little boat as it rocked in the shallows, the smell of pitch rising from the planks, and noted the supplies Harlan had left. Then I took up my position at the stern and gave Lyri an encouraging smile. “Are you ready for a little sailing adventure?”
She nodded, her face a wonderful combination of nerves and excitement.
My own shot of nerves ran through my chest as I waited to see if she would love this as much as I did.
Would she understand the draw of the ocean swells and the joy of feeling a salt breeze in her face?
It shocked me how viscerally I wanted just that.
I shoved the mast into its socket, then hauled the square of linen upward. “Hold tight,” I said, just before the sail caught the afternoon breeze with a snap.
Lyri made a little noise of alarm as she grabbed at the sides of the skiff. “You’re certain I won’t fall overboard?”
“I promise,” I reassured her. “I’m very good at this, and I would never do anything to put you in danger.”
As the wind pulled us along, I aimed for a tiny island close by, a spot where Lyri could look for seashells and play in the waves.
It was amazing how calm I felt in this tiny boat with her sitting across from me.
Usually, a day like today would have driven me to seek complete isolation, but something about Lyri made her presence comfortable. Being around her didn’t feel like work.
“Why did you invite me to come with you?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of the wind and waves.
“You haven’t seen much of the world, and this is something everyone should get a chance to experience,” I said, keeping my eyes on the horizon.
“But you’d rather be by yourself.”
That pronouncement forced me to look at her. She said it with such conviction. “Why do you say that?”
“You have a lot of places where you go to be alone.”
I chuckled. “Yes, I do.”
She shook her head, turning to look out at the water with a little smile on her lips. “I don’t understand that.”
“Understand what?”
“Wanting to be alone.”
The wistful expression layered over her melancholy sobered me. “I suppose you wouldn’t. You’ve been denied company and companionship for so long. It makes sense that you would resist solitude now.”
“I hate solitude.” There was a dark ferocity in her voice that surprised me, and my imagination once again reached for an explanation of what her life had been before she fell into my ocean.
“Was there no one who knew you were being kept in that tower?” I asked.
Her chin pulled back and her brow lowered in confusion as she looked back at me. “Everyone knew.”
A startled breath hissed through my lips. Each time I believed I could not be more surprised, I was proven wrong. “What do you mean everyone?”