Shezar clasped her hand as he removed it from his face and said, “Tempting, but I am bound by duty.”
“Pity,” she said. Then, her demeanor changed, and she waved as if tossing the invitation away. “It is no matter. There are plenty of men to be had.” She turned back to Yserria and said, “I will need to inspect the ship.”
“Our king demands diplomatic immunity for his quarters and those of the strikers and myself, but you may examine the rest.”
The woman tapped her lip thoughtfully and then spoke to her assistants. “Send a missive to the dock mistress for permission to grant diplomatic immunity.” To Yserria, she said, “I doubt you will receive it.”
One of the men scribbled a message on his tablet, bowed, and then handed the quill to the minister. After signing the document, the man departed, and she said, “Let us get on with this. Guide the way.”
Yserria showed the woman around the deck and then took her below to examine the other rooms and cargo. By the time they were finished, the dock mistress had arrived to personally assess the situation. She was an older woman with greying hair tied in an intricate braid atop her head. She wore a stern countenance. Her figure was fit, although her skin was darkened and leathery from too many years spent in the sun.
“I hear we have an errant king aboard,” said the dock mistress as Yserria and the minister approached. “It seems this one has been making waves across the Souelian. I have heard of this new king, but I will see him before I make my decision.”
The minister’s eyes widened as Dark Tidings appeared behind the dock mistress. The older woman turned and jumped as he looked down at her. She was petite beside the towering wraith, and she was wary despite her sour visage.
“I am the one you seek,” said the unsettling voice.
The woman lifted her chin and said, “Is that so?”
Yserria moved to Rezkin’s side. Her voice was sharp as she addressed the dock mistress. “This is the King of Cael, True King of Ashai. You will show him proper respect.”
The woman appeared uncertain but ultimately decided to adhere to diplomatic formalities. She crossed her arms in front of her, palms facing outward, and then touched her forehead to her wrists. The minister followed the dock mistress’s example.
“I do not wish to be kept waiting,” said Dark Tidings.
The woman pursed her lips. “Word has been sent to the palace of your arrival. You are not in your kingdom,” she said. “You will be apprised of the pertinent laws and customs while we wait.”
“That is not necessary,” Dark Tidings said. “I am familiar with your laws. My entourage is entirely female, except for the journeyman mage and the priest of the Maker.”
He nodded toward Minder Finwy and Wesson, who was doing his best to appear puny and insignificant. The woman scowled and sniffed disdainfully.
“Are you sure he is not a girl?” she said.
Dark Tidings tilted his head as he made a show of examining the mage. He replied, “No, I am not.”
The dock mistress dismissed Wesson and said, “If you are granted a visit with the queen, I will approve your diplomatic immunity. If not, you will be subject to the same search as every other vessel, or you will leave port.”
“Dock Mistress, how long have you held your position?” said Dark Tidings.
“I acquired my position after my predecessor’s downfall five years ago.”
He said, “How many foreign rulers have called to this port in that time?”
“Well, none that I recall.”
“No, and I am certain you would remember such an encounter. You need to revisit your lessons in etiquette lest you meet your predecessor’s fate.”
The minister who stood a step behind the dock mistress eyed her superior hungrily, as if considering how she might make that happen.
The dock mistress granted him an insincere smile and said, “I will take your suggestion under advisement. You should expect to receive word within the hour. I will return if you are approved.”
The woman bowed slightly and then strode from the deck down the gangplank, followed by her remaining assistant and the minister. The minister marched imperiously past Shezar, not even glancing his way.
Once they were gone, Shezar turned to Rezkin and said, “The Leréshi do not take rejection kindly.”
Rezkin nodded. “It is something to keep in mind.”
They finished gathering their belongings while they waited. Frisha approached Rezkin when he was finally alone in his cabin, although she had to enlist Xa’s assistance in circumventing Malcius to get to him.
“What are you looking at?” she asked. “Surely you have read all of your papers a million times by now.”
“I took these off the dock mistress,” he said absently as he read.
“But I never saw you get close to her, and I was watching from the doorway the entire time.”
“You were supposed to be in your cabin.”
Frisha cleared her throat to get his attention and said, “I think I should go.”
Without the slightest hesitation, he said, “No.”
“But Reaylin is going—”
With the look he gave her, she did not bother to finish the thought. She bit her bottom lip and then started, “The Adana’Ro …”
He glanced up, his gaze sharpening as he waited for her to finish.
“They … um … they offered to teach me. They said I could join them.”
“No,” he said again.
With an embittered expression, she crossed her arms and huffed. “Why not? You said I can choose what I want to be. You don’t even discuss it. You just say No.”
“You are not a warrior, Frisha. You have said as much.”
“I could be. I am not weak, you know.” She lifted her chin. “I can be just as strong as Yserria.”
Rezkin rounded the desk and leaned against it as he gave her his full attention. “No one said you are not strong. You do not have to be a warrior to be strong.”
“If I were a warrior, I would be someone you could … respect.”
“I do respect you,” he said.
Frisha huffed again. “The Adana’Ro protect the innocent. It seems like a worthy cause.”
Rezkin rose quickly and was in front of her before she could blink. He captivated her with his crystal blue gaze. “Do not deceive yourself. The Adana’Ro live in darkness. They do dark things to protect the light. You may choose your path, Frisha. If it is what you wish, I will not stop you.” He traced a finger over her cheek. “I did not understand why outworlders would choose to remain oblivious, vulnerable, but you have shown me something I had never seen—something of value. If you choose this path, the world will be a darker place.”
Frisha blinked away tears and murmured, “You say such things …”
Rezkin dropped his hand and went back to his papers. “You should go. It is not appropriate for you to be in here alone with me.” She turned to leave, and he said, “Frisha.”
“Yes?”
“Please remain on the ship. We were lucky no one died when the Adana’Ro took you.”
Frisha inhaled and straightened her spine. She looked him in the eyes and said, “I’m going with you.”
When he answered, his voice held a hard edge she was not used to hearing directed at her. “If you are taken again, I will slaughter all in my path to retrieve you.”
The dark certainty in his gaze sent a chill up Frisha’s spine as she was once again reminded that he was Dark Tidings, the Rez, and the Raven. Her mind, fears, and moral fortitude were at war with her heart, but when she remembered him saying that he could never love her, her heart lost.
Frisha left the cabin and was immediately reprimanded by Malcius who had managed to work his way past Xa without getting stabbed.
“Every time you speak to him, you end up crying,” Malcius said. “Why do you not tell him you have changed your mind?”
Frisha stared past the still, grey water near the dock to the darker blue of the ocean afar.
“Because I have not,” she said. “It cannot be, Malcius. I am sorry.” As she pushed past him, she added, “Perhaps you would be better to push Shiela on him after all. She would not care if he has no feelings.”