Their eyes locked, realization striking at the same time, though it was Lara who spoke. “When we were surveying the pier, did anyone see them making an effort to prevent driftwood from entering the channel into the island?”
Aren frowned, then shook his head. “No.”
“If a prisoner is able to pass down the channel, is there any reason a sizable piece of driftwood wouldn’t be able to do the same?”
Keris tensed, his heart latching on to this bit of hope even as his head screamed that the solution couldn’t be so simple.
“Lunacy,” Jor interjected. “Even if you aren’t turned to pulp against the channel walls, this isn’t Ithicana—the water is freezing. It’s snowing, for God’s sake.”
Lara shrugged. “I didn’t ask if it would be easy, only if it would be possible to get past the guards on the pier using driftwood as cover.”
“Maybe.” Aren rubbed his chin. “I’ve not ever seen anything like it, but the island draws the current into that channel, along with everything in it. The guards would constantly see driftwood pass
—likely enough so that they barely notice it. In the dark, if you kept low, they wouldn’t see you.”
“You aren’t actually considering going in totally blind?” Jor demanded, then threw up his hands in disgust. “All that will happen is whoever goes in will end up as much a captive as Zarrah. This is a prison—the way out is the problem.”
“Because you’re a woman?” Keris huffed out an amused breath, then pressed a hand to his stomach
“But not the most urgent problem,” Keris snapped. “You heard Bermin’s soldiers—Zarrah’s in the hands of cannibals. Rescuing her from them is the foremost concern; getting out of the prison itself is secondary. We wait any longer and all we might rescue is bones! Even if I have to do it alone, I’m going now!”
“Then go,” Jor shouted at him. “But don’t expect a rescue!”
Bermin has confirmed our biggest uncertainty but also our greatest fear. Zarrah is alive, but very much
“It’s not your call, Jor,” Aren said, then jerked his chin at the rest of the crew who were present.
“After dark, we’ll get as close as we can. The Valcottans won’t buy another excuse for us lingering another day in these waters, so we need to move now. Let’s go catch ourselves some driftwood.”
The other king stood, as did the rest of the Ithicanians, all of them filing out of the room until only Lara and Keris remained.
Lara was quiet, fussing with the buckle on her sword belt. Then she said, “Even if you free her, Zarrah may not be grateful. Aren certainly wasn’t. His anger at seeing me came close to hindering our escape more than once.”
“I don’t expect gratitude. I …” Keris scrubbed a hand over his hair. “I … I just don’t want her to be punished for making the mistake of choosing me.”
Silence stretched between them, and he could feel his sister’s scrutiny. Then she said, “It wasn’t a mistake.”
Surprise froze his tongue, and Keris lifted his head to meet her gaze, waiting for the axe to fall.
Because Lara disliked him and there wasn’t a chance that—
“You are an irritating, egotistical prick.” Her breath caught. “But the only flaw in Zarrah’s choice in you was that all the world was against it. They never gave you a chance.”
Emotion twisted his stomach because what she was saying … it wasn’t just about his relationship with Zarrah. It was about his relationship with her. His sister, who’d been stolen as a child, only to be found, lost again to Ithicana, and then again to the consequences of his actions. Lara’s words weren’t quite forgiveness, but … they were something. A candle in the night. “Lara, I—”
The color in Lara’s cheeks abruptly disappeared. “What’s that godawful smell?”
Sniffing the air, Keris started to say, “It’s”—then Lara lurched and puked on his boots—“dinner.”
“Oh, God.” She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry. Normally the
seasickness eases after this long on the water, but I can’t seem to shake it this time.”
More confirmation of what he’d already suspected, so he said, “Congratulations,” hating the selfish part of him that wondered how this would affect Aren’s choice to help him with the rescue.
She gaped at him. “What?”
“Congratulations on your pregnancy. I’ve lost count of my nieces and nephews, but this one will be special.”
“No … no, I’m not …”
“You most definitely are,” he said. “I grew up in the harem, sister. You’re not the first pregnant woman I’ve seen vomit over the smell of cooking.”
Silence.
“How is this possible?” she finally whispered, turning away from Keris to stare out the window.
The question wasn’t directed at him, but he didn’t like seeing her this … rattled. So he said, “I’m not really the ideal messenger for this information, but when a man and a woman—”
“I know how babies are made, Keris!”
He shrugged. “Just checking. There was the possibility that all your training was dedicated to learning how to poke holes into a man and not learning what happens when a man pokes you in—”
“If you say it, I’ll stab you in the face.”
The unease in his guts faded in the face of her anger, and Keris rocked on his heels, eyeing his sister for a long moment before asking, “You don’t want a child?”
“No. Yes.” Lara pressed her hands to her face, then dropped them to meet his eyes. “We were taking precautions.”
“I’ve been told the only certain method is abstinence, though I’m not one to judge.”
Lara glared at him. “The Ithicanians are going to think I got pregnant to protect myself. To earn their favor.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Yes!” Lara paced the room. “To use a child as a shield to protect myself is selfish and disgusting.
They already hate me. No need to make it worse.”
Keris hesitated, uncertain of whether this was a conversation that he should involve himself in. But Zarrah may not be grateful. Aren certainly wasn’t. His anger at seeing me came close to hindering our he was so weary of good things being soured by circumstances. “And you think not having a child is going to change the way they feel?”
Lara went still, her cheeks sucking in as though she were biting them.
“You’re the queen,” he said. “Which means the vast majority of your subjects don’t see you as a person. What you think, how you feel, how you suffer? They don’t give a shit. All they care about is how the choices you make affect their lives. Putting yourself through hell will change nothing for Lara the queen and destroy everything for Lara the woman.”
Her eyes went distant as his words sank into her thoughts, likely nothing Aren hadn’t already said to her a hundred times before. He watched her see the logic and reject it, frustration building in his stomach because this had nothing to do with what Ithicana thought of her and everything to do with how she felt about herself. “You deserve to be happy, Lara. If this is what you want, please don’t allow the joy of it to be destroyed by individuals who don’t care about you.”
Silence stretched between them, and he didn’t break it.
“It’s not your problem,” she finally said. “Though I’d ask you to keep this development to yourself.
Aren needs to be focused on finding a way to get you out once you’re in, not on my … condition.”
Deception had been her downfall, yet it remained burned into his sister’s soul. She’d been raised on it, learned to live and breathe it, and though she had to know that it did her no favors, Keris could still see Lara clinging to it like an old friend. “Except it’s not just you anymore, is it?”
More confirmation of what he’d already suspected, so he said, “Congratulations,” hating the selfish Lara’s gaze sharpened. “Pregnant or not, I’m the one who will figure out a way to extricate you and Zarrah.”
He did need her. But that didn’t mean he was willing to be used as a tool for her self-destruction.