I didn’t realize he’d be up here.
Sometimes I think back to my moments with Karri when we worked for Mistress Solomon, when I’d sigh over thoughts of Weston Lark. She used to warn me about how outlaws were just looking to string girls along.
In a way, I guess she was right. He was tricking me.
For a moment, I wonder if Corrick is going to remain by the railing with Rocco, to avoid any uncomfortable conflict after last night.
I should know better. Corrick’s whole life is conflict.
He strides across the short span of deck, then extends a hand to me. “Miss Cade. I trust you’ve put your needles away?”
I ignore his hand and step onto the deck on my own. “I’m sure I can find another one.”
It’s the type of sharp banter I’ve grown accustomed to exchanging with him—whether we’re working in accord or not. I expect the usual flare of challenge to light in his eyes, but … it doesn’t. He meets my gaze and holds it.
“Why are you so angry with me?” he says.
His voice isn’t loud, but Corrick never is. What he lacks in volume, he makes up for with intensity. The question
nearly hits me like a fist.
“You know my reputation,” he continues. “You knew my reputation. Better than anyone, in fact.” He pauses. “You know what I’ve done. From both sides.” Another pause. “It’s discouraging to think that you would allow a few insults from Lochlan to sway your opinion of me so dramatically. I thought your character was a bit more resilient than that. Perhaps I was wrong.”
No, wait. Those words hit me like a fist.
“It’s not just Lochlan,” I say, and I have to will strength into my voice.
“Then what?” he says.
Wind carries off the sea to tug at our clothes and hair. I study him, those vibrant blue eyes that I know so well, and I refuse to look away. “It’s discouraging to think that you would climb onto a ship that’s out of the public eye and see it as an opportunity to get under my skirts.”
I expect him to flinch, but he doesn’t. “Is that truly what you think?”
“It’s exactly what you did, Corrick.”
“I’ll grant you that the action is true.” He takes a step closer to me. “Yet not the motivation.”
He’s so close that I can feel his warmth. My emotions are all tangled up.
He takes advantage of my indecision to move a step closer. When he speaks, his voice is low and sure. “I’m going to say something that could sound very arrogant, and very cruel,” he says. “So before I do, I want to make sure you understand that I am speaking them as … as a truth. As a statement of fact.” He brushes a lock of hair out of my eyes. “Not a means to cause harm.”
I swallow, but he waits until I nod. I have to brace myself. “Go ahead.”
He leans in to whisper, so there’s no chance of our words being overheard by anyone but the wind and sky. “You’ve known me for a long time. There have been many nights between us. Many times we were alone. Out of the public eye, as you say.”
His voice is low and husky and familiar, and I shiver even as my cheeks catch on fire.
Then he adds, “If all I wanted was to get under your skirts, I could have had you, ready and willing, at any moment of my choosing.”
I jerk back so sharply that I almost lose my balance. I’m flushed, gasping with sudden fury. My fingernails are curled into my palms so hard that I’m in danger of drawing blood.
I can’t decide if I hate him, or if I just hate that he’s
right.
“I warned you,” he says. “So gallant,” I say, seething.
“Gallant?” His eyebrows go up. “Do forgive me if my ideas of gallantry do not align with your own. Would you rather I had made better use of our table in the workshop? I seem to recall you throwing yourself at me on more than one occasion.”
I must be so red I could be a beacon. There’s a good chance I’m going to punch him in the crotch again, or possibly draw that dagger that’s belted to his hip. Or maybe I’ll just smack him square in the face. All three. All at once. Rocco’s going to have to drag me off him.
But Rian speaks from behind me. “Problems, Miss Cade?”
“No,” I grind out.
“Miss Cade was having a difficult time remembering the intricacies of our past interactions,” says Corrick. “I simply offered a reminder.”
“Did she want one?”
“I rather doubt it’s any of your business,” Corrick says, and his voice has gone a bit dry, “but she quite clearly offered me an invitation.” He says it like he’s implying something else.
That’s it. I swing a fist.
Rian steps in front of Corrick, deflecting my strike a bit, but I wasn’t expecting it, and I catch the captain in the shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I gasp.
He takes hold of my wrist gently, but his voice is firm. “Don’t hit him.”
“I don’t need you to defend me,” says Corrick, and that’s probably true. Rocco has moved closer, and it’s clear he’s paying close attention to this interaction.
“I’m not defending you,” says Rian.
“No one fights on your ship,” I say hollowly. “Again, I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t worried about the fighting. I wasn’t sure what the response would be if you’d landed that punch.”
That thought sends a chill up my spine. I take a step back, and I have to rub at my arms to shake off the shiver.
Corrick watches the motion. “Your concerns are misplaced, Captain. Tessa has struck me before. I’ve never retaliated.” He pauses. “Perhaps a reminder of that is in order as well, Miss Cade.”
Also true.
I don’t know how we got here. It’s like Weston Lark and Prince Corrick have split into two different people again, as if the friendly, roguish outlaw really is a man who was killed by the cruel prince in front of me.
But they’re not, and it takes more effort to remember that than it should. I have to take a deep breath. “He’s right,” I say to Rian. “He wouldn’t hurt me.” I sound like I need to convince myself, and I hate it. I turn a glare on
Corrick. “Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to hit you.” My cheeks redden again, completely against my will. “But you shouldn’t have said … that.”
Rian looks between the two of us. “What did he say?”
“That is a private matter between us, Captain,” Corrick says. “Surely you have duties that we’re preventing you from completing.”
“I’m completing them right now. Gwyn told me you don’t want to dock in Port Karenin anymore.”
“I’m not having you return to Ostriary with stories of how the king’s brother was intractable and obstinate.”
Rian folds his arms. “You think he won’t figure it out on his own?”
“I got on the ship with you,” Corrick says. “Rather quickly, in fact, and at no small expense. I’m continuing the journey, despite your refusal to be forthright with me about what you might have on board this vessel. My people have caused no trouble, and you’ve made great use of my apothecary for your own needs, finding no objection from me.” Corrick takes a step forward, and the air crackles with animosity. “I am not a pretentious man, Captain. I should hope that’s rather obvious. But I am the King’s Justice, and I am second in line to the throne of Kandala. You may not agree with our laws, and you may not agree with my judgments, but I have brought no harm to your ship or your crew. I am not a criminal, and I am rather done being treated as one.”
Rian stares back at him, and I wonder if this tension is
finally going to snap and one of them is going to throw a punch.
But Rian sighs and uncrosses his arms. “Fine.” Corrick’s eyebrows go up. “Fine?”
“Yes. Fine. You’re not a criminal. You boarded the ship to do right by your people. You agreed to my terms. You
haven’t caused harm.” Rian runs a hand through his hair, and I can’t tell if he’s exasperated—or just exhausted by this whole conversation. I know I am. “You were right,” he continues. “I do have duties that require my attention.” He takes a very deliberate pause. “Your Highness.” He offers me a nod. “Miss Cade.”
Then he turns away.
Whoa. I let out a breath through my teeth.
But Corrick’s not done. He turns that belligerent gaze on me. “You can be angry at my words, and you can take issue with my actions. Hate me if you like, but you know I’m right. I have never harmed you, and I’ve never taken advantage of you. When you snuck into the palace, I did everything I could to keep you safe—including offering you the opportunity to leave. I put a bag of silver in your hands, Tessa. A dagger right off my belt.”
All true. I swallow. “Corrick …”
“I’m not done. Any distance between us at court was because I respect your work and I value your intelligence, and I did not want to give anyone cause to doubt the integrity of either.” His voice is so low, but so intense, lending weight to every single word. Every syllable. “I resent that a man with questionable motives has instilled such … misgivings in you.”
“Oh, stop being so cynical!” I snap. “Rian doesn’t have questionable motives.”
That draws him up short, but I’m not entirely sure why.
Corrick stares back at me, but he says nothing.
After a moment, the tension is just too great. I can’t take it. “What?” I demand.
“I wasn’t talking about Rian,” he says slowly. “I was talking about Lochlan.”
Oh. I take a step back.
“Our captain has instilled misgivings?” Corrick says. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I do feel as though I need an explanation.”
I’m unsure how to proceed again.
Corrick’s eyes narrow. “Maybe I don’t need an explanation. Maybe I’ve already seen the effects. He arrives at court with an attitude full of censure for how Kandala has fared—for how we’ve maintained order—and you agree with every word he says.”
“But why is that a surprise?” I demand. “Of course I agree with him! When you were Wes, you would have agreed—”
“But you know the truth, Tessa. We pored over maps, and I told you that it’s not as simple as taking every petal of Moonflower Kandala has to offer. If it were, we wouldn’t be locked in tense meetings with the rebels. We wouldn’t have faced a revolution at all.” He looks truly angry now. “If it were simple, I would not be on this ship.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do. I think you’ve realized that Wes never existed, could never exist, and you’ll never have our adventures back. I think you’ve met a man who could offer more than endless debates in stuffy conference rooms, and you’ve leapt at a new chance to make a difference, because my way was too slow and boring.”
“Please stop. That’s not it at all—”
“Oh, it’s not? Because I realize that it may seem appealing to follow a man with clear ideals, but you haven’t been to Ostriary yet. You haven’t dealt with their king, and you haven’t seen what awaits us there. You accuse me of being cynical, but you stood right there and said that Rian doesn’t have questionable motives. Maybe I should find Lochlan and befriend him, because on this, we would agree: you are naive—”
“Don’t you dare,” I snap. “Just because I know more about medicine than I do about ruling a country doesn’t mean I’m some clueless idiot. Just because you believe the worst of everyone doesn’t mean that there aren’t good people in this world.”
“It’s kept me alive, Tessa. It’s kept my brother alive. And now I’m trying to keep you alive. You question my motives, but you don’t question the captain’s. I would ask why he claimed the political climate of Ostriary was stable when we were seated at dinner—yet now tells stories of pirates who may lie in wait. I would question why he feels the need to keep a room on this ship locked away. It’s no surprise to me that we’ve been on the ship for a matter of two days, and he’s already worked to sow discord between us.”
“He’s not the one sowing discord,” I say.
Corrick grits his teeth. “I would question which kingdom truly has his loyalty, because right now, it’s rather clear it’s not Kandala.”
“Your Highness.” Rocco has stepped close, and his voice is low, but urgent enough to cut through Corrick’s tirade. He gives a deliberate glance past us, at the main deck, where more members of Rian’s crew have begun to appear. No one is directly staring at us, but it’s clear we’re the center of attention. Again.
I sigh and take a step back. Close quarters don’t keep secrets well at all.
I stare up at Corrick, whose jaw is tight. I hate that he’s right about so much of it.
But not all of it. I take a long breath, then tuck a loose tendril of hair behind my ear.
An unintelligible shout rings out near the rear of the ship, and it takes a moment for me to realize it’s Sablo, standing at the helm. When I step around Corrick to look, I
see that he’s got a spyglass in his hands, and he’s calling for the captain. Rian joins him, taking the spyglass himself.
I see two ships in the distance, but they’re too far to see too much detail. At my side, Corrick has gone very still. I look at him, wondering if he’s seen.
As soon as I meet his eyes, despite everything between us, I can tell that he has, and something about the ships is important.
His gaze shifts to the captain again. “Are we in danger?” I whisper.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Rocco spotted them, too.” “Would Harristan have sent them?”
“If he did, he made no mention of it.” He pauses, and I can tell he’s truly considering this. “Even if my brother did decide to break his word, there’s absolutely no strategic advantage to keeping that knowledge from me.” He turns to look directly at the helm, then raises his voice to call, “Is there a problem, Captain?”
Rian slowly lowers the spyglass. He’s quiet for a moment, then calls back, “No problem. Sablo spotted some brigantines on the horizon.”
Corrick looks back at me. His voice is a little mocking as he says, “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”
“I do,” I say, but for the first time, I’m not sure.
“Maybe you could find out for sure,” Corrick says. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Well, I’m not the only one who enjoys spending time with you.” I bristle, but his voice isn’t arrogant anymore. It’s evenly assessing. “Not just Captain Blakemore either. It seems everyone is willing to share a bit of information with the apothecary. Even Lochlan.” He pauses. “It’s exactly what stopped the rebels in the woods. It’s what stopped the revolution. People like you. People trust you.”
I open my mouth again, but his eyes bore into mine. “Like it or not, the captain is hiding something on board,” he says. “And now we’ve got two ships in a place they’re not supposed to be.” He pauses. “It’s time to think about your own loyalties, Miss Cade. You said you’re not naive. Prove it.”
