Princess at Sea (5 page)

“Yes, he does,” I answered. “That's why he teases you.”

“Well, I don't like him.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I love Thadd.”

Oooooooh,
I thought, eyebrows rising and my fingers faltering as I finally understood the unending arguments of the last three weeks. Contessa liked him, and she had taken to being disagreeable in order to remain true to her first, childhood love.

Deep in thought, I pulled her braid up and around, weaving it through the rings to secure it. I couldn't bear it if Contessa's and Alex's paths turned against each other when there was the chance for a real marriage, not snatches of comfort taken from someone else in palace corners amid shame and fear of gossiping tongues. A royal marriage bound by love could create an empire. It
had
created an empire. And it could easily be sundered by the love of another man.

My throat tightened in the memory of my parents. Forcing the lump down, I dropped my hands from her hair to arrange the lace about her collar. “Alex came into this knowing it was a marriage of convenience,” I said cautiously. “That you have no affection for him. Has he . . . Has he touched you? Is that why you're so disagreeable with him?”

Contessa flushed a red to rival the sunset. “No.”

I remained silent for a moment, hearing the lack of completeness in her confession. “Do you want him to?” I finally asked.

“No!” she said, a shade too quickly. “I love Thadd.”

My jaw tightened at the bitter tinge my thoughts had taken. I, too, had been worried about my husband-to-be when I thought I was Costenopolie's crown princess. And I hadn't the complication of a preexisting relationship to deal with. She had been raised by nuns, never knowing who she was and expecting a provincial life with an apprentice sculptor.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Contessa said abruptly, taking up the mirror and trying to see what I had done with her hair.

“Give him a chance,” I whispered, my hands falling to my side. “He left his mistress behind when no one would have said anything should he have brought her with him. He has stayed silent about you and Thadd though you have shown a callous disregard for Alex's feelings, flaunting your relationship. Alex doesn't want a loveless marriage, and you're trampling his feelings like flowers in the mud, ignoring that he's trying to start a new one with you. He has accepted his loss and is showing more honor than you have a right to expect.”

“I'm aware of that,” she almost snapped, and I knew I had struck a sore spot. The fiery woman sat with a stone-lipped stillness. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. I had only known her for a few months, and I had found that when she turned like this, she could do anything from burst into tears to tackle me and try to tear my hair out. It had happened before.

Slowly, I reached up to my own simple topknot and pricked my finger upon one of the poison darts I had started wearing since hearing Jeck had boarded. The sharp prick of pain was familiar, and I felt my vision lose its focus while my body fought the poison off. It was the same toxin that almost killed Duncan, but Kavenlow had laboriously built my natural immunity to where it became a benefit, not a drawback.

This was what made the game possible. This was how a chancellor, a captain of the guard, or a child taken from the street could secretly manipulate thousands. The toxin slowly built up in the body, imparting some of the magical abilities of the animal it came from.

My slight headache vanished as my magic swung past its usual limits and into a temporary extreme by the dose of venom. I'd need the extra boost to sense Contessa's emotions. Giving oneself a dose of venom to increase one's magic wasn't advisable since it also put one closer to death until it wore off, but I was reasonably secure. Jeck was more likely to steal my limited stash of venom than try to kill me with an overdose of his—Kavenlow would be furious. Building an apprentice's tolerance to venom was expensive and risky, but he'd be angry because he loved me as the child the venom prevented him from having.

A flush of warmth from the poison swirled through me, and I sent my thoughts out to find Contessa's current state of emotion. This was a magic I had found on my own, completely by accident and shocking Kavenlow speechless.

We had been building my ability to find a rival player when he or she was trying to avoid detection, an extreme game of palacewide hide-and-seek. It wasn't taking me nearly as long to find him as it should, and when I innocently told him that I was following his emotions of tension and anticipation, he had stared at me for a good fifteen seconds, which may not sound like much, but it's an eternity when you think you've done something wrong.

Rubbing his hands together in delight, he immediately sent me to find Jeck. That was harder, but after a week's practice, I was able to find him as easily as anyone else unless he was sleeping or intentionally keeping his emotions quiet. Kavenlow said sensing people's feelings was probably born from my uncanny ability to manipulate animals by finding their emotions and playing upon them. I just thought it was fun to sneak up on Jeck, catching the young, stoic man doing something scholarly like reading a book or penning a letter. He would much rather I think of him a muscle-dense lout who got his position by strength not cleverness. I had quickly run out of excuses for stumbling in on him, and I think he suspected I had been using him to hone my skills when he stopped trying to hide from me, making it harder to stretch my abilities. By comparison, finding Contessa's emotions was easy.

Slowly our breathing synchronized as Contessa's emotions mingled with mine. It wasn't a pleasant sensation, and I searched my feelings, finding the ones that didn't fit. Overwhelming, almost debilitating worry crashed through me, and I held my breath, dealing with it.

Pulse pounding, I turned to shake out Contessa's drying dress and the underthings strewn about. Contessa was worried. Worried about Thadd. Worried about the bed she slept in and the hammock that Alex had voluntarily consigned himself to, waiting until he thought her asleep before even entering their small cabin. Worried that she might like the clever, fun-loving man who could make her laugh as easily as frown. Worried that she was an inconstant woman and weak of will if she found herself attracted to him as well as her slow, predictable Thadd.

Her confusion was deep, directed inward by a wedge of shame. There was no anger at Alex or me. Relieved she wasn't upset with me, I let my shoulders slump, surprised when Contessa's did the same. A flash of worry pulled me upright. There was the potential here to direct her emotions, to manipulate her by making her feel things she really didn't, and the idea that I could twist her so easily left me with a strong feeling of wrongness.

Immediately I worked to find the emotions that were entirely mine, separating myself from my sister. We simultaneously took a cleansing breath, and I wished Kavenlow were here.

“You like Duncan,” she said softly—as if the thought had just occurred to her.

My mouth dropped open. She met my startled gaze, and I wondered if she was commenting on the obvious camaraderie between us or if she had picked the more-certain emotion from my thoughts. Had she seen a smidgen into my feelings as I had seen into hers but labeled it intuition?
What have I accidentally learned to do?

She met my worried smile with the confidence of shared secrets between sisters. A tap at the door startled us both, and I ran my hand down the dress I had thrown on so I wouldn't be running about in my underthings. “Come in,” we said together, me sounding relieved.

It was Duncan, his gangly frame halting in the door. Contessa saw my flush, her smile going knowing. “Water's hot again,” he said, his expression unbothered.

“Thank you,” I said, hoping he hadn't been eavesdropping. Eyes down, I edged about the chair to get to the door. I was so desperate for a bath that I would have taken it cold, but I had to get Contessa presentable first. And water was easier to heat when we were stalled in the sea. Through the deck came the call for sails to go up. Even fainter came the signal horns from the two warships. Though we weren't actually moving, we were under way. It was going to be harder to wash up, now, but I'd done it before.

“Thank you, Tess,” Contessa said, when I reached the door, her voice precise, every syllable carefully pronounced as she adopted a formal air in the presence of someone besides the two of us. “You may go tidy yourself.”

I jerked to a stop, her altered tone reminding me of our public relationship. Duncan grinned, catching a glimpse of my frustration before I hid it. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” I murmured, managing to elbow Duncan in the ribs as I curtsied in the doorway.

“Would you please see that Jy is given an extra ration of grain tonight,” she added. “And have Captain Borlett free enough water from the cisterns to rinse his coat.”

“Thank you, Contessa,” I added, grateful she had remembered my horse. I'd been planning to use all my wiles to get Jy something. Now all I would have to do was say Contessa wished it.

The young woman met my smile with her own, reminding me that for all the temper and the provincial fishwife at her core, she was an intelligent woman who naturally thought more of others than herself.
Perhaps,
I mused as I shut the door behind me and followed Duncan through the boat,
I should remember that more often.

The wind from the nearing storm had become aggressive, but
it felt wonderful in my curls, a few brown strands pulled from my topknot to blow artfully about my shoulder while they finished drying. My bath had been short since the waves had grown higher, but the salt was gone, and there was no better feeling than standing at the rail of a ship with the wind in your hair, the balance of power between the wind and waves vibrating up through your feet. I didn't care that the crew members were surly and bad-tempered. None of it was my fault.

Because of Alex's dumping Contessa overboard, we weren't going to make the next harbor before twilight. Normally it wouldn't matter since Captain Borlett and the captains upon the two accompanying warships could sail at night as well as day, but the approaching storm had added a dimension of uncertainty. I knew everyone was blaming me for the delay through some twisted male logic. They couldn't blame Alex, and because women were bad luck on ships, the thought to toss her over had probably occurred to every one of them at some point or other. I had even overheard Haron grumble, “Our first mistake was goin' back for 'em.”

My fingers upon the railing tensed when the wind gusted and the light boat slowly heeled. Hair blowing into my face, I turned to look behind me to Haron at the wheel, his feet spread wide so his short stature could better control the boat. His bearded features were lost in the gathering dusk, but his stance said he was glad to be moving again. Near to him were Captain Borlett, Duncan, and Jeck.

A frown pinched my brow. They looked deep in discussion, and immediately I headed over. My stomach clenched as I snuck glances at Jeck. He stood a head above everyone else and looked trim and elegant in his tidy Misdev uniform of black and green. The wind tugged his severely black, gently curling hair about his small ears. He had taken recently to shaving, and his cheeks had tanned to the same dark, well-oiled wood sheen the rest of him had.

The black-silk sash about his waist was the only sign of his higher rank since the official, overdone hat with the drooping feather had gone over the side the first day out. I knew Jeck had lost it on purpose, rightly thinking it looked ridiculous on him. He was not much older than I, his hidden status of player having pulled him higher in rank faster than was customary. But with his square jaw and muscular arms, it was obvious it wasn't just his status of player that had gotten him his captain's appointment. The man had enough muscles to force what he wanted when his magic failed him. It was this last I didn't trust.

The sword hanging from his belt was different, and I imagined Alex had Jeck's best blade, now. Jeck saw my eyes on the new hilt as I approached, and he moved his powerful shoulders in a small shrug. There was a wisp of amusement in his brown eyes directed at me even while he discussed something with Captain Borlett. He thought it had been funny. Contessa's almost death had been funny to him. What a chu slinger.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” I said, boldly interrupting them by forcing myself between Captain Borlett and Duncan. I touched my still-damp topknot to reassure myself my darts were there where they would stay as long as Jeck was on board.

“Ma'am,” the squat captain of the
Sandpiper
said, accepting my presence as an equal. It was refreshing, and my bother eased.

“Hey, Tess. You look good,” Duncan said, making a show of taking in the dress I wore when we were in harbor, where impressions were important. I knew I was embarrassingly overdressed, but it was the only clean, dry thing I had to put on.