City in Ruins (9 page)

“Resume,” Cadeyrn commanded.

He nodded, acknowledging the show of respect. A
stocky, balding man with brawny arms and fierce tattoos approached
the prince. He had a harsh demeanor broken strangely by a dainty
pair of gold spectacles on his nose. The sharp contrast was
startling.

The men clasped hands, their heads bent in
abrupt discussion.

“That’s SeeVan, the
Beatrice
’s Quartermaster.
Better known as V. He’s sailed with the prince for years,” Reenah
informed us, approaching from the side of the deck.

Coils of rope and other supplies littered the
wood. Crew men scurried to move provisions below deck while
securing necessary equipment above.

“I’ve never seen spectacles before,” I
replied.

Reenah laughed, the tinkling sound
drawing attention from some of the men, Daegan included.
“You
would
notice
that. They’re only made and sold in the Guarda markets, though how
they’re produced is beyond me.”

“They’re convex-shaped glass used to magnify
images,” I breathed, my gaze studying the frames.

Reenah chuckled. “I’ll take your word for
it.”

My fingers itched for a quill, parchment, and
ink to make notes and sketches, to record this moment on the sea,
to draw a ferocious-looking man with slim eyeglasses.

“I’m dying,” Maeve moaned, drawing our
attention to her hunched form.

Seagulls dove, their wings
fluttering over Maeve’s miserable head.
“What did the dying man say to his son?”
a seagull yelled.

“Rest in peace?”
another asked.

“Oh,” Oran grumbled, his paws
rubbing at his ears, “now
I’m
dying.”

The seagulls laughed.

Prince Cadeyrn glanced up from his discussion
with SeeVan, his gaze passing over the ship, his eyes skirting mine
as he perused the men on deck.

“He’s the captain of the
Beatrice
,” Reenah
announced.

My eyes widened. “The prince?”

She smiled. “He commandeered her from a group
of smugglers off the coast of Dearn when he was eighteen turns.
She’s seen a name change and plenty of improvements since
then.”

My curiosity got the better of me. “What was
she called before?”

Reenah’s eyes twinkled. “The
Vixen.
We’re quite suited
for this vessel I think, you and I.” She winked.

Mortals gave other mortals roles, titles, and
expectations. Once you filled one of those roles, it didn’t matter
if it didn’t suit you, you were mired in rumors and innuendos.
Words are power. Humanity, however, didn’t always translate words
wisely. In the wrong hands, words could destroy lives. It wasn’t
words that shouldn’t be trusted. It was the people who said
them.

“Yes,” I agreed, “I rather think we
are.”

Daegan stumbled next to us, his gaze passing
from my face to Reenah’s. “Just so you know, I think the consort
system is entirely unfair. What if a man wanted to be a consort? I
could think of worse ways to spend my time.”

Coming from anyone else, the words would have
been an insult. With Daegan, he was all seriousness, his eyes full
of glowing amusement.

Reenah slapped at him, and he inhaled sharply,
his hand falling to his stomach. “Maybe I should save the teasing
for when my stomach doesn’t feel like someone removed it, shook it,
and then replaced it wrong,” he gasped.

This time when Reenah laughed, I joined
her.

Chapter 11

The ship’s sails were open, the
vessel digging through the waves when the
Beatrice’s
Quartermaster came to me. I
was standing on the deck facing the sea, letting the spray from the
ocean wet my cheeks when his lumbering form settled next to mine, a
leatherbound book held gingerly in his big hands. SeeVan looked
even more terrifying up close, his face lined by time and the
elements, his gaze shrewd.

“The cap’n mentioned ye be a scribe,” he
said.

I glanced at him, focusing on his spectacles.
Evading intimidation meant looking at the small things, the things
that made a person human. To look beyond the outer exterior of a
person to the man or woman beneath.

Smiling, I nodded.

SeeVan thrust the book in my direction. “It’s
the ship’s ledger. There be two of ‘em. The cap’n ledger and the
ship. If ye look at what’s been recorded, it’s pretty
self-explanatory. We’ve not had a scribe on board in a bit. While I
know my letters, I’m not good at scribin’. Got a hard time seein’
the words, I do. Cap’n says ye may be interested in taking a look.
Might make ye feel useful and all.”

My brows rose, amusement rising in me.
“Useful?”

I accepted the book, and he shoved his hands
into the pockets of his loose breeches. “I’ll warn ye, miss. Ye got
a lot of men on board lookin’ at ye like ye’ll be something good to
eat knowin’ you’re a consort. Dragon whore or not. Reenah’s
protected by the royals, but ye ain’t.”

His blunt words crashed over me, my face
heating. “The captain has told you everything then?”

SeeVan inclined his head. “I’m the
Quartermaster, miss. It’s my duty to know what’s going on aboard
this ship and what kind of problems it could cause. Being a consort
of the dragons, ye’ve thrown away your right to Sadeemian
protection. Your protection depends on the dragon, and he isn’t
always on board.”

“He’d hear me if I called,” I
protested.

“Nevertheless,” SeeVan said, “the
cap’n wants ye to scribe for the
Beatrice
. Your bow and arrows aren’t
as useful on ship as they’d be on land. If ye have a job on board,
a title, then the cap’n is obligated to protect ye.”

A slow warmth developed in the pit of my
stomach. “This was the captain’s idea then?” My fingers pressed
against the tome, drawing strength from the leather and parchment.
Escreet’s presence was much stronger here than Silveet’s. The ocean
sang, the sound rising until it was a steady chorus around
us.

“He be a good leader, miss. He’s saved my life
a time or two.”

My gaze found his, peering past the harsh lines
to what he must have looked like as a boy. “What may I call you,
sir?” I asked.

For a moment, his eyes widened, my respectful
address unexpected.

“I go by V on the
Beatrice
,” he
replied.

Smiling softly, I inquired, “From where do you
hail, V? You don’t have Sadeemian features, and your dialect is
different.”

When he’d approached me, I’d noticed the black
tufts of hair that remained on his head, his eyes so dark they were
almost black. He was a head taller than me, but not as tall as most
Sadeemian men. He also sported loose breeches and a strange,
colorful sleeveless tunic.

SeeVan studied me. “Ye be an observant one. I
hail from the wilds of Yorbrook.”

“Yorbrook!” I exclaimed, delighted. “I would be
honored if you told me about your country one day, Mr.
V.”

The man flushed. “Just V, miss. Cap’n told me
ye were an inquisitive wench.” He scowled and stepped away from me.
“I might have time to tell ye a little about the wilds if ye ever
feel the need to visit the deck most evenings after ye sup. I do
some mendin’ on the lines durin’ my watch.”

My heart was light. I’d spent the past two
years embroiled in war and rebellion. I’d forgotten what it felt
like to converse with a stranger about something other than
politics. Strangely enough, SeeVan reminded me of the scribes I’d
visited and worked with at Forticry growing up. I’d enjoyed
watching them scribble on parchment while they told me
stories.

“I’d like that, V,” I replied, holding up the
book, “and I’ll take the position. You can tell your captain I did
not refuse.”

Inclining his head, he backed away before
turning, his feet thudding across the deck.

“You make friends in odd places, rebel,” a
female voice called.

Glancing up, I found Princess
Catriona waddling toward me, her
herrnos
guards flanking
her.

She stopped at the ship’s railing, her fiery
hair flying away from her face as she inhaled the breeze. “I was
worried the baby wouldn’t take well to the sea, that I’d be as sick
as your rebel friends, but he seems to be thriving so far. Only a
half day out, but that’s a good sign.”

I clutched the ship’s ledger, my nails digging
into the leather. “He?”

Catriona grinned. “It’s customary to hope for a
boy when you’re a royal. Mayhap it’s a girl, but words carry
weight, so it’d be nice if the fates listened.” She
winked.

The fates were the Henderonian gods, a group of
female and male deities who controlled Henderonian lives. There
were more gods in Henderonia than there were in
Medeisia.

“Aside from your gods, do you want a boy?” I
asked.

She glanced at me. “It would make my life
easier,” she answered.

I fell quiet, my gaze following hers to the
sea. The waves were rough but not vicious, the grey skies from
earlier slowly melting away, sending occasional patches of light
down to the ship’s deck.

“Your curiosity makes you good with people,”
Catriona blurted. My gaze swung to her profile. She was watching
me, occasional glances thrown in my direction. “SeeVan has been
Cadeyrn’s Quartermaster since before my sister’s death,” she
revealed, shrugging. “Beatrice wasn’t always warm with him. He
intimidated her, and the fear made her coarse.”

This was the first time I’d heard anything
unfavorable about Cadeyrn’s deceased wife, and I leaned against the
railing, weighing my words. My flaws were many, and knowing
Beatrice had them, too, created a kinship with her. It made her
more human, more accessible rather than a paragon. It made me
understand Cadeyrn and her better. Because love couldn’t exist
without flaws. Flaws gave a person a chance to prove they loved
someone, that being with them wasn’t about them being
perfect.

“Fear makes us do and say things we wouldn’t
otherwise say or do,” I said finally, smiling.

“Fear doesn’t do that to everyone,” Catriona
murmured. Catching my eye, she gestured at me. “Are you in love
with my husband, rebel?”

Her question threw me, and I inhaled, my gaze
flying to the sea. We’d had a similar conversation months before,
but things had changed drastically since then. The pregnancy for
one. Even if she didn’t love Cadeyrn, she was tied to him now. She
was tied to him by the child and by alliances.

I chose my words carefully. “I respect
him.”

Her eyes narrowed, her head lifting.
“Things are awkward between us now, aren’t they?” she asked, her
hand dropping to her rounded belly. She was dressed in a
lightweight blue gown, the material suited for the heat.
“
This
,” she rubbed
her stomach, “makes things awkward. I never wanted that. The
Medeisians fascinated me.
You
fascinate me; your spirit, your powers, and your
choices. I admit, I am more selfish than you.”

Her words stunned me, robbing me of
speech.

Catriona chuckled. “I rather enjoy surprising
you.” She glanced over her shoulder at the deck, at the crew as
they scurried about. Across the expanse, Cadeyrn stood with SeeVan
and Gryphon, their gazes on a map held by my brother. “I want
love,” the princess whispered. “I don’t want the delegated
strictures of marriage. I could care less about alliances. Those
were Beatrice’s responsibilities. I want freedom.”

Reaching out, I touched her, my hand squeezing
her shoulder. “Those are treasonous words, Your Majesty. Those in
power often have to make sacrifices for duty, for the safety of
their people.”

Catriona snorted. “That’s why you would have
made a better queen, rebel. You believe in that. You believe in
giving up things to make the whole better.”

I frowned. “I do believe in that, but everyone
is a little selfish. Everyone wishes for individual happiness away
from duty. The question isn’t what you want. It’s what you’re
willing to face to get it. It’s the consequences you’re willing to
suffer.”

The princess sighed, her gaze flicking from the
group of men and the sea. “It’s funny to me,” she breathed, “how
much some men love the ocean and how they refer to it and their
ships as women. The ocean is a bitter mistress, always
unpredictable and moody. How is it they can love the sea, but not
love the same thing in a bride?”

My brows furrowed. “Are we talking about Prince
Cadeyrn?” I asked.

Catriona straightened, a faraway look in her
eyes. “I’m sorry, rebel. I’ve been a little under the weather.” She
bowed her head, the Medeisian gesture a kind farewell. “Thank you
for speaking with me.”

I bowed my head in return, unease swirling in
my gut. I felt like I was missing something. “Your Majesty,” I
called as she walked away. She paused. “Just remember that forked
paths are dangerous ones. If you choose the wrong one, there isn’t
a guarantee you’ll return,” I told her.