Sea Witch

“I suppose that’s why he’s named ‘king,’ Cousin.”

Iker grins and claps Nik on the shoulder. “We are a slippery lot, aren’t we? Always running to and from the call of duty.”

“And you are forever running late in both directions.”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed with a grand entrance and a daring story.”

I raise a brow. “That certainly is your life’s motto.” The words come out harder than I’d planned, and his smile stiffens in answer.

“I’d say it’s worked well for me so far.”

“You would,” Nik says. He’s now standing next to Annemette’s chair, his hand grazing her shoulder. “But let it be, Cousin. I’d like you to meet Friherrinde Annemette.”

Annemette stands and steps toward Iker. She holds out her hand like she’s done this hundreds of times before. He takes her fingers in his and kisses them. “Lovely to meet you, Annemette. I daresay I would’ve remembered such a gorgeous girl from my travels in the ?resund. Tell me, where did you wash up from?”

My heart in my throat, I meet Annemette’s eyes. He’s just being kind, I know he is, but still.

“Odense,” she says, clearly comfortable despite my heart flaring out my nostrils. “Evie and I met yesterday, and she agreed to show me around. Nik was game enough to join us.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” he replies. “I’d say yes in an instant.” Iker smiles at her, but there’s suspicion in his eyes. It’s just a flash, but it’s there—he doesn’t even try to hide it. Nik and I both notice it before his cultivated manners return and he bows at Annemette. “I’ve traveled everywhere, and there are no two prettier girls in all the world than on this balcony.”

Both Annemette and I immediately flush scarlet, the compliment the perfect Iker level of grandness. And, when I glance over, Nik is fiercely blushing too—his eyes have never left Annemette.

Iker’s attention spins across the three of us.

“What?” I ask.

Then he shakes his head. “The lot of you won’t survive your youth if you don’t learn to take a compliment or ask for what you want.”

Iker turns to Nik. “Cousin, clearly you can’t keep your eyes off the girl. Why don’t you ask the fine friherrinde to accompany you as you explore today’s festivities? I’m sure there is plenty to learn about her.”

Annemette turns to him, a lock of blond hair twisted around her finger. Nik lets out a nervous laugh.

Iker, not paying attention, goes on. “While you’re doing that, Evie and I can walk through the gardens.”

“Really?” I say. “Don’t you think you should ask me first?”

“Forgive me, Evelyn. Would you do me the honor?”

I should say no. After all, what is the point? In a day’s time, he’ll be dancing with half the komtesses invited to the ball, one of whom will surely become his bride. But I can’t help wanting what I want. I look up at Annemette, whose eyes are urging me to go. She needs this time too. Two magical creatures and two princes. I want to laugh. Maybe it’s time I stopped accepting what all of Havnestad has deemed appropriate for a girl like me and started acting like the girl they already think I am.

“It would be my pleasure, Iker,” I say, getting up from my chair.

Nik suddenly stands, looking very uncomfortable, ears turning red too. “Iker, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

Iker’s eyes brighten and then drop into the same suspicious glance he gave Annemette. He reads his cousin’s face and posture, clearly trying to discern if this is about him being alone with me or about Nik being alone with Annemette or something else altogether. His words from the ship ring in my ears: I don’t like to step on my cousin’s toes.

“I’m not going to defile the girl, cousin, we’re just going to have a kiss and catch up.” Nik practically scoffs, but Iker just smiles. “Nothing we haven’t done before.”

Nik’s eyes shoot to mine, and I know he knows. It doesn’t take much for him to picture all of it—to picture me kissing Iker like all the other girls he leaves in his wake.

I glance down—I wish it wasn’t like this. I just can’t take Nik looking so hurt.

Iker makes it a point to raise his brows at Annemette, everything in the move suggesting Nik take his girl and be fine with it. A hope I have as well. The girl only has three days. Iker’s arm slinks from my waist and hooks about my elbow. He leads me toward the door.

“Follow my lead, Cousin, but don’t follow my footsteps.”

The late morning light is blinding when we step out of the shadow of the castle and into the queen’s tulip garden. We blink ourselves down the stone path, stumbling a bit until our eyes adjust, arms and legs momentarily touching—whether by accident or on purpose, only Urda knows.

It’s sinking in. Iker is here.

He came back. And he immediately wanted to be with me.

All the disappointment and fears about what was keeping him seem to drain from my body. I try to push thoughts of Annemette to the side, too. Not everyone is your responsibility, Evie—Tante Hansa has told me this a thousand times. Annemette is alone with her prince, and I’m with mine.

After years of daydreams, my childhood fantasy is somehow now my reality: holding hands in a garden with Iker. Despite my status. Despite his. Despite the lives that are meant for us. A flash of heat runs up my neck, and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Iker can never know how often I’ve thought of this.

But is this real? Am I stuck in dream? Or have I lost my mind completely, and Annemette is a figment of my imagination? Iker, too?

I wouldn’t think him real at all if his arm weren’t still slung about my waist, drawing me toward him, the two of us walking toward a stone bench beneath a shady oak.

Stop questioning, Evie.

Enjoy the spell while it lasts.

He smells of the sea. Of escape. And I want to be there with him, watching his skin go pink and then brown, whales in our sights and free wind in our hair. He turns to me, both hands about my waist now, face angled down toward mine. A smile curves at his lips as he reads my eyes.

“You were worried I wouldn’t come,” he says, and brushes a curl from my cheek.

I don’t deny it.

“I ran into a problem of sorts,” he says, eyes in the middle distance, voice softening. “I lost one of my men. The sea snatched him overboard in broad daylight after we docked in Kal?. Spent the rest of the day and much of the next searching.”

My breath catches. It’s awful, though not unexpected on a whaling expedition. The resolute set to Iker’s jaw mirrors that—disappointment but also acceptance. But then his gaze brightens and he goes on. “Eventually, we found him, floating unconscious between two rocks. Can you believe it? Barely breathing and beaten up, but alive. It was so strange, finding something you doubted could be possible.”

A teasing note then enters his voice. “Just like you shouldn’t have doubted me.”

“I didn’t doubt you. I doubted my expectations.”

Iker raises a brow and his eyes are on my mouth. “And what were your expectations?”

“That you wanted to be here as much as I wanted you to be here.”

At this, he draws me in until his chest touches my bodice and I can feel his legs through the layers of my dress.

“Don’t doubt this.”

He presses his mouth to mine, stealing my breath. He is gentle in that first moment, but then sweeps us down onto the bench.

The scent of salt and limes swirls about me as my heart begins to pound hard enough that I’m sure he can feel it through my bodice and his shirt.

His hands move to my face, thumbs sweeping the curve of my jaw. He holds me there for a second before gently pulling away.

“Proof enough, Evelyn.”

He says it as a statement, not a question, a sly little grin returning.

I purse my lips in thought. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve had a large enough sampling to be certain.”

Iker’s face breaks that sly little grin into something toothy and wolfish.

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