When I was in the palace, it was never easy to be the King’s Justice, but I could count the minutes of my day, knowing eventually the clock hands would crawl toward the early morning hours when I could escape into the Wilds with Tessa.
Even once the ruse was over—because Tessa was in the palace and we were working toward a new solution—I could reassure myself that we were bringing about change. That things would be different. That we would work together to make things better.
But as the days passed, true change began to feel slow and ineffective. Potentially impossible. Like that meeting that ended with Lochlan diving across a table at Consul Sallister. At least in the Wilds I could see medicine making a difference. As King’s Justice, I only saw my failures.
Now I’m on this ship, and with every censorious glance Tessa throws my way, I feel like more of a monster than I ever was.
She wants me to get along with Lochlan. He’s out on the deck, gutting fish with other men from the crew. The low sound of their voices hardly carries over the wind, but I can
tell he’s found a place among them. There’s a part of me that envies the simplicity of it.
When I walk across the deck with Tessa, he stops talking, and his eyes follow me. He leans toward the man beside him, saying something too low for me to hear, then uses his knife to rip a fish in half.
No subtlety there. He wants me to have a reaction. I ignore him.
The captain is in his stateroom with Gwyn and Sablo, but when Tessa and I enter with Kilbourne at our backs, it’s obvious that the room isn’t quite large enough to fit six people. The work table takes up a good deal of room, and the burning stove blocks a whole corner. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at the maps, but I can’t get close to the table. Tessa takes a stool to sit in front of Sablo, who’s holding a bandaged arm to his chest. He looks a bit alarmed at the sudden crowd.
Tessa glances up at the rest of us, but it feels more pointed when her eyes find me. “Maybe you all could give us some privacy.”
Fine. But I’m not being evicted by myself.
“Captain,” I say. “I understand you’ve offered my guardsman a tour of the ship. I wouldn’t mind the same.” I pause. “If you have the time.”
He surprises me by saying, “Sure.” He extends a hand toward the door. “After you.”
We step out into the wind, the sails snapping overhead. The blue sky stretches on ahead for miles, but gray clouds still crowd the sky behind us. I’ve been on the deck three times now, but both times I was focused on what was in front of me: Tessa. Now, I inhale the sea air and look beyond the masts. The scent of fish is thick in the air, but it’s not overpowering thanks to the wind. I’ve sailed the Queen’s River before, but never quite like this. Our parents
only boarded the finest ships, wide vessels with servants and attendants and liveried officers. The Dawn Chaser is a decent ship, but it’s not built for royalty. When we were boys, Harristan and I were always cloistered away, kept out of the wind, far from any railings. My brother never really took to travel by sea, so once he was king, he never asked for it. Our journeys to other sectors are almost always by land.
But now, feeling the wind bite at my cheeks and tug at my clothes, I find myself wishing I’d done this more often. There’s a part of me that wants to lean over the railing just because I can.
The thought feels juvenile, and I shove it away.
Lochlan would probably take a chance to pitch me overboard anyway.
When I glance over, I find Rian studying me. “First time at sea, Your Highness?”
I can’t tell if the question is meant to be condescending, but he sounds forthright, so I am, too.
“No,” I say. “Not really. But it’s been ages.” I step past him, toward the railing, because the lure is just too great. Beneath us, the water rushes past alarmingly fast, waves slapping at the hull. It’s a bit dizzying, but I like it.
“We’re making good time,” Rian says. “It was a boon to get ahead of the storm. Good winds should have us in the ocean south of Sunkeep by tomorrow night. The following day at the latest.”
That is good time, and I wonder if it’s too good.
Once we pass Port Karenin, I’ll be truly on my own.
I have to tamp down the lick of fear that loops around my spine, and I straighten, moving away from the railing. The captain extends a hand, and we walk, heading toward the bow of the ship.
“I heard Lochlan started a fight already,” I say.
“Not a fight,” he says. “Just a bit of wounded pride between men.” He pauses, and one of those tiny barbs finds his voice. “You understand, I’m sure.”
“You really don’t like me, do you?”
He smiles, but it’s more cunning than it is friendly. “Do I give that impression? I believe the king was assured we’d be old friends by the time you return.”
“Don’t be contemptuous, Captain. It doesn’t suit you.” His smile widens. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Another barb, but I don’t take the bait. A gust of cold wind sweeps across the deck, tugging at my jacket, and I tuck my hands in my pockets. “You’re judging me by rumor and opinion,” I say.
“Perhaps I am,” he says equably.
We’ve reached the bow of his ship, and from here, I see nothing but open water and distant ships, the wind in my face and the sky stretching on forever.
“Was death truly the penalty for stealing Moonflower?” he says.
“Yes,” I say. “It was well known throughout Kandala.”
“And as King’s Justice, you were in charge of determining the method of punishment?”
“I was.”
“These punishments,” he says. “They were public?”
“Sometimes,” I say. I hear him trying to trap me, so I turn and look at him. “You were not here in the beginning, when people were quite literally fighting to the death over access to medicine. My brother had an entire country to consider. He ordered me to take action, and so I did.”
“I see.”
I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. We head along the opposite railing, toward where the men are gutting fish. They keep their eyes on their task, but they’ve
fallen silent. I’m sure the lure of gossip, even on board a ship, is too great to ignore.
Luckily the wind will carry my words away, especially if I keep my voice low. “That’s it?” I say. “I see?”
“Yes,” he says. “Now I can claim to be judging you by fact.”
Maybe I liked it better when he was being contemptuous. “I’ve spent four years being hated by everyone,” I say. “Please don’t think I’ll be very affected by your opinion of me.”
“Of course not.” He glances my way. “I’m just here to sail the ship, Your Highness.”
He’s not quite mocking me, but it’s close. “I do admit to being surprised by your boldness. You’re the one who came begging for steel.”
“Only because you couldn’t manage to reach Ostriary to beg for Moonflower.”
I bristle. Every time I have a conversation with this man, I can’t find my footing. I’m both furious at his impertinence and intrigued by his mettle. “Have I wronged you in some way I’m unaware of, Captain?”
“Not me directly, no. But I was sent to Kandala to see if the new Ostrian king would be able to negotiate for steel so the kingdom can be rebuilt. I expected to find King Lucas, a ruler who was known for fair dealings throughout Kandala. Instead, I’m bringing back a man who put citizens to death after they’d been left desperate, with no means for survival.”
“You weren’t here,” I say roughly. “You don’t know the
circumstances. My father might have been known for fair dealings, but he never had to deal with widespread illness. His consuls had an equitable balance of trade between sectors. But once the Moonflower was determined to cure the fever sickness, it caused a massive shift in which
sectors had money and power—and which ones did not. Suddenly his consuls—our consuls, Captain—held leverage over the throne, while ordinary citizens were quite literally killing each other over medicine. We had terrible choices to make, and we made them.”
“So the choice was to anger your consuls or execute your people?”
“The choice was to restore order by whatever means possible. People were already dying, Captain. The penalties had to be harsh or they wouldn’t have made a difference.”
He’s quiet for a moment, but hostility crackles in the air between us.
“If I locked you in your quarters without food,” Rian finally says, “and if I said you’d be put to death if you tried to escape, how long do you think it would take before you’d risk it anyway?”
My jaw is so tight. I don’t have an answer. Or rather, I do, but I don’t like it.
I don’t think it would take very long at all.
“And which is the greater crime?” he says. “Is it the imprisonment? Or the punishment?”
“You’ve made your point.”
“Or does the crime matter?” he continues. “Since the same person is responsible for—”
“I said you’ve made your point.”
I say the words sharply. Most of the men were pretending to ignore me, but my raised voice is enough to draw attention. Even Lochlan is glaring now. Kilbourne must sense trouble, because the guardsman has drawn closer.
“Come along,” says the captain, as if the tension between us isn’t as thick as the scent of fish guts and seawater. “I promised you a tour, Your Highness.” Without waiting, he keeps walking, but he calls back over his
shoulder. “Brock, if you can’t get through that lot, Gwyn and I will help in a bit.”
I follow him. “I sense you’ll be recruiting my guards, next.”
“If they want to work, I wouldn’t turn away the extra hands.”
“Is that why you had Tessa climbing the masts this morning? You needed extra hands?”
“She volunteered.”
“And you thought it was a good idea? Sending my apothecary to the top of the main mast?”
“I thought it would be a poor idea to suggest she couldn’t do it.” He pauses. “Jealous?”
That really does startle a laugh out of me. “No.”
But … maybe. Not just of the time with Tessa. I’ve spent weeks locked in the palace, surrounded by advisers and courtiers and royal demands. I stare up at the miles of rope and sails and rigging that hang suspended above us, and I can’t help the swell of intrigue.
If he weren’t being such an ass, I’d admit it.
Instead, I focus on the matter at hand. I want to review the maps in his stateroom, but that’s going to have to wait until Tessa is done. “For now,” I say, “I’d appreciate seeing the lower decks.”
“Where would you like to start?”
“Rocco said you have cannons on board. I’d like to see your gun deck.”
If he’s surprised, it doesn’t show. “Right this way.”
Once we’re on the steps to the lower levels, I say, “In case there was any uncertainty, I don’t like you much either.”
“Truly? You’ve been incredibly subtle.”
“I’m going to knock you down the stairs.”
He stops and turns, his eyes in shadow now. “Do not pick a fight with me.”
He says it evenly. Coolly. The same way he said, Don’t threaten my crew when we were sitting at dinner.
I stare back at him, and there’s something about his quiet composure that makes me want to throw the first punch. I’m sure he can read it in my gaze, because he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t look away.
Just a bit of wounded pride between men.
Yes. I definitely understand.
But I need him to get us to Ostriary. I’m not failing in this mission over something as frivolous as pride.
“I certainly wouldn’t pick a fight by announcing my first move,” I say, and there isn’t an ounce of tension in my voice. I glance past him as if I’m bored with this delay. “Lead the way, Captain.”
The gun deck is exactly as Rocco described: wide and dusty, with the cannons tethered together at opposite ends of the ship. The gun bays are sealed shut, making it very dark down here, but Rian brought a lantern, and he leads me around the space. A large section sits at the front of the ship, with a padlocked door behind the cannons. That must be the armory Rocco mentioned.
“You indicated that it was too costly to remove them?” I say to him.
Rian nods. “They were quite literally built into the ship.” He points to the deck above us. “We’d have to pull apart two decks to get them out. Even then, we’d need a crane. But here, I can offer you more proof about this ship’s origins.” He moves closer to one of the cannons, holding the lantern close to the end.
For a moment, I’m not sure what he’s showing me, but then I see it. The forge mark hammered into the steel at the back of the cannon.
STEEL CITY METAL WORKS
The cannons were forged in Kandala—and if the ship was built around them, that means the ship most likely was, too.
“This mark appears in other spots, too,” Rian says. “Inside the ovens in the galley, on some of the chains along the main mast, on a few of the steel beams along the hull. But this is the most convincing, because there’s truly no way for me to bring these cannons aboard.”
I brush my fingers along the letters. It is pretty
convincing.
I look up, gesturing to the padlocked door. “And your armory? Rocco said your crewman didn’t have a key.”
“I don’t either.”
I don’t believe that for an instant. He’s the captain of the ship. “Surely we can hate each other without having lies between us,” I say.
He smiles, and this time it’s a bit more genuine. “Yes, we can, but this isn’t a lie. I don’t carry the key on me, and I will not be retrieving it for your purposes.”
“You allowed the palace guards to search the armory,” I say. “They reported it was well stocked.”
“And you don’t trust the palace guards?”
No, but I’m not going to admit that. Just the words send a chill down my spine. We already suspected something was amiss with the palace guards, but until this moment, I hadn’t considered that this journey might be part of it.
I shake off the worry before it can manifest in my voice. “Personally,” I say smoothly, “I’d like a little more insight as to what’s inside.”
“No.”
It’s so uncommon for me to run headfirst into a flat refusal that I’m more intrigued than irritated. “No? Why?”
“For the same reason I refused to have sailors on board or ships sailing behind. I’m not giving you or your people access to a room full of weapons that can be used against my crew.”
I stare at him in the flickering lantern light, listening to the splash of water against the hull.
“My guards have weapons,” I say. “I expected them to have weapons.” “Then we don’t need yours.”
“Exactly. The contents of the armory are unnecessary all around.”
His voice is so calm, so reasonable, that it’s making my demands feel unreasonable. I can’t tell if he’s hiding something or if his worries are genuine. I wish I had Rocco at my back right now. Kilbourne will defend me without hesitation, but I’ve learned that Rocco is a good partner from an offensive angle.
But it bothers me that Rian is refusing to open the door to what must be a simple room.
“I demand that you open the door to your armory, Captain Blakemore. That is an order. I am here by the authority of the king.”
He holds up his left hand, and his ring, the one bearing my father’s seal, catches the light. “So am I.”
Fury swells in me, hot and sudden. “My father is dead.
Any power granted by that order is rescinded.”
“No, it’s not. The order is very clear that it’s backed by the Crown, not the man wearing it. King Harristan took no action to rescind my authority. I still bear the ring. I still carry the letter.”
My heart is pounding. I’m thrown, scrambling, trying to find my footing again. Was this an oversight? Did Harristan forget?
I clearly did.
“Turn back,” I say. “Return to Artis. We can resolve this with Harristan right now.”
“I will not sail directly into a storm because you’re in a pique over a locked door,” he says, and his voice is grudgingly tolerant, as if I’m a toddler throwing a tantrum. “If you wish to dock in Sunkeep and send word to your brother, so be it. I will continue on to Ostriary and inform their king that you were belligerent and obstinate, and you delayed negotiations because I wouldn’t give you a key to a room you truly have no need to access.”
My fingernails are biting into my palms. My pulse pounds in my ears now. I’m afraid to move, because I really might throw a punch.
“Captain!” a voice calls from above. “Marchon needs you at the helm.”
Rian takes a step back. “We’ll be nearing Port Karenin in a day or so,” he says. “Inform me of your decision then.” He pauses, then holds out the lantern to my guard. “I’ll leave you with the light, Your Highness.”
I hate him.
The instant I have the thought, I remember how many times Tessa thought those exact same words about me.
“Captain,” I call, when he’s nearly to the stairs.
For an instant, I don’t think he’ll stop, but he does. “Yes?”
“You’ve gotten the wrong impression of me,” I say. “I don’t think I have.”
“Oh, I know what the people say of me. I know the stories you’ve heard, and I see the way your crew looks at me. Rumor may claim that I’m cruel and thoughtless, and my reputation may paint me as impatient and forceful, but you won’t be the first to learn that it’s a misstep to underestimate me.” I take the lantern from Kilbourne and
take a step toward him. “So make no mistake. When I pick a fight, you’ll know it.”
