Chapter 24
CHAPTER
That evening, Lord Karev called upon Vaasa to come into the city, saying he’d agreed to visit some of the local merchants who regularly traveled through his territory. You are the perfect accompaniment, he’d written in his note. They will be so thrilled at their heiress’s attention.
Roman and a line of sentinels followed their carriage on horseback.
As they rode through the streets, Vaasa pulled back the curtain to gaze out the window, and just as importantly to give the crowds an opportunity to see her with Lord Karev.
Vaasa’s heart reached north, begging for Mireh.
Begging to dance in the Lower Garden and get lost in the stacks of the sodality.
To view paintings and eat upon a patio. To be comfortable in a crowd.
She craved the sound of laughter and the conditions it needed to bloom.
Cold air stung Vaasa’s nose as she left the carriage, the rancid smell of the port only mildly smothered by the crispness of the air.
Cold waves battered against the docks, and Vaasa searched the docks with a keen eye, taking note of every ship that waited there, every channel one could take to leave it, and the precise location of the berths that could bring a hub like this to a screaming halt.
The ships in the harbor were mostly the same—unmarked, sails of different colors, constructed with the same Asteryan design that she had grown up around.
Some were smaller and more adept at navigating the pirate-infested waters, while the other, larger ships likely took the longer path that hugged the coastline.
A group of fishers tossed their catch down to waiting buckets, others lugging the buckets up to the fish market.
All work stopped when people caught sight of them, though.
Voices rose at the swaths of Asteryan sentinels surrounding Vaasa, and Lord Karev approached, possessively placing his hand on her lower back.
Vaasa fought the instinct to arch away from him.
With his chin held high and a confident grin, he looked just as bold and arrogant as he had when he’d first arrived at the fortress.
Just as charming, too, which she knew to be nothing but a facade.
“Shall we?” he beckoned her, letting the world’s attention follow them as he extended her his arm once again, much to Vaasa’s chagrin.
She demurely lifted her thick skirts from the wet dock and kept walking, Roman and his sentinels about ten paces behind them.
Lord Karev led them to the main square near the fish market, where bustles of crowds floated to and fro.
Roman closed in, the rest of the sentinels and Lord Karev’s guard following suit.
Being the central market of Mekes, it was the loudest and most populated area, though Lord Karev quickly ducked into an empty, narrow street.
“You and the others can wait here,” Lord Karev instructed Roman, who looked upon the lord like he couldn’t ascertain why a command for Vaasa’s lead sentinel had just come out of his mouth.
Roman gripped the pommel of his sword. “Where the heiress goes, I go.”
Karev grinned wickedly, and Vaasa knew he meant his next words with each ounce of condescension she perceived. “She is with me, Sentinel. I’ll keep her safe. Hold your post.”
Roman met Vaasa’s gaze, but her stomach tightened. “Hold your post,” she told the group of sentinels, stepping closer to Lord Karev. “I’m safe.”
Everything that left her lips now was a lie.
Without holding Roman’s gaze for too long, she followed Lord Karev down the street.
Still within their sights, the lord turned to face her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She wanted to recoil. His gaze darkened with wicked triumph.
His voice came low, meant for only her ears, as he stepped fully into her space.
“I thought you had let the poor sentinel loose.”
“I have,” she assured him.
“And yet you keep him in your employ?”
Vaasa continued to force a tone of nonchalance. “He earned his title fairly; it felt too cruel to steal that from him, too.”
A muscle flickered in Karev’s jaw. “There must not be any doubt that my children are my own.”
Vaasa wanted to hurl a knife at him. She bared her teeth, though to the world it looked like a perfect smile. “There will be no question as to the parentage of our heirs.”
Lord Karev merely stared down at her, unconvinced. “There will be if he does not temper his reactions.”
Vaasa shrugged, trying to make the entire conversation seem lighter than it was. “It’s a fresh rejection. I’ll speak to him.”
“Sooner rather than later,” he said. An order.
Vaasa nodded, lowering her eyes in an attempt to indicate submission. The more power she allowed this man to believe he had, the more secure she made him feel, the more likely she could bend him when necessary.
Lord Karev must have accepted her response, because he continued into a fabric shop. Vaasa paused, gazing around, Reid’s words about where they were hiding coming to the forefront of her mind.
There, leaning against the counter with her light-red hair braided over her shoulder, was Sachia.
Despite the beauty of the woman’s face, she had dropped the facade of a merchant’s daughter; tight leather breeches and the knife strapped at her waist immediately summoned suspicion.
She looked like the kind of woman capable of throwing Lord Vlacik from a window.
Pirates.
That was how Lord Karev was able to fund his ample army; he was leveraging illicit trade to do it. Vaasa’s heart pounded, though she kept her face frozen. She barely held herself from searching madly around the store for Reid.
“I thought you were lying when you said you’d bring the heiress,” Sachia said. The woman carried an accent—not quite Icrurian, though familiar. It was from one of the long-conquered northern Asteryan provinces.
“I don’t lie,” Karev told the pirate. His eyes narrowed. “And she speaks fluent Icrurian, so there won’t be any miscommunication.”
Distrust pulsed between Sachia and Lord Karev, but the pirate didn’t respond to the insult he’d just thrown her way. Instead, she stepped forward, inspecting eyes dragging along Vaasa’s body. “So quick to jump to business.” She extended her arm in greeting. “It’s lovely to see you again, Heiress.”
Her arm. Her entire arm, not just a hand.
Vaasa reached out and gripped the woman’s arm in the formal Icrurian gesture.
Sachia wrapped her fingers around Vaasa’s forearm, squeezing tightly.
One shake between them and the pirate dropped it, moving down a walkway lined with spools of silks that were stacked like towers upon the walls.
It had been the smallest of gestures, but one that made Vaasa settle more comfortably into Sachia’s presence.
It was a symbol of friendship, of trust.
Vaasa inspected the spools of fabric, pretending to be interested, the corner of her gaze always watching Lord Karev.
He walked with the same commanding stature as he did everywhere, and with each step he took, Vaasa inched farther and farther away.
Distracted by the fabrics, or so it seemed, she wound her way to the farthest rows of the shop.
Every shade of purple was here, the stacks of it so high that Vaasa could no longer see Lord Karev and Sachia.
A body came up behind hers, and Vaasa spun.
Reid stood there, a finger over his lips, indicating a need for silence that Vaasa already knew.
He was dressed in warm breeches and a thick wool shirt, which was a little tight on his shoulders and arms. Though likely borrowed, it was a harrowing sight to view the Wolf of Mireh in simple Asteryan fashion.
But he was here. He was inches from her.
She paused and took a deep breath. Just one. A single moment where her composure cracked. She silently choked, hand going over her mouth to keep the sound of an impending sob from breaking out. Her chest rattled with the pressure of keeping everything in.
Lord Karev and Sachia’s voices drifted from the other side of the purple fabric stacks, still far enough away that she was hidden.
Reid reached for her, his fingers landing beneath her chin, his thumb sweeping over her cheekbone to wipe away a stray tear.
“We’ll have none of that, Wild One,” he whispered.
“Heiress,” Lord Karev called, voice coming closer.
She turned the opposite way, blinking tears out of her eyes and gazing at the fabric as she walked without a hurry. When she looked back, Reid was gone.
“I’m over here,” she replied, her heart in her throat.
Lord Karev came around the corner just then, gray eyes surveying the fabric she touched.
“Come,” he said, gesturing to the back of the shop. She followed him through the winding maze of fabric until they reached a small door that had been left ajar. It led to a set of steep stairs that emptied out into a dim, lantern-lit basement room that Vaasa couldn’t entirely see.
Her heart thudded wildly in her chest. Where had Reid gone?
This could just as easily be a trap. Sachia ducked into the stairwell, and Lord Karev gestured for Vaasa to follow.
And for a moment, Vaasa paused. But Sachia had given her a handshake only an Icrurian would understand. And Reid had said they could trust her.
Vaasa bit the inside of her cheek. No matter what, she didn’t really have a choice.
Vaasa ducked through the door, eyes scanning her surroundings as she prepared to fight if necessary. Her winter boots thudded against the floor, and Vaasa looked up to find two men sitting at a table.
Koen… and Reid.
Everything centered on where Reid sat. His face didn’t break at her entrance, no ounce of familiarity on his sternly taut mouth, but his eyes softened ever so slightly as he perceived her. To the left, there was another door. It must have been what he’d snuck through.