Her eyes flooded, though no tears escaped. “You’re an idiot.” Then she flung her arms around his middle, squeezing him hard before twisting away. “Jor, take care of him.”
The old Ithicanian exhaled a long breath after she’d left, then turned to Keris. “Want me to find you something stiff to drink so you have an excuse for doing something stupid?”
“Yes,” Keris answered. “Though I suspect it will take more than one drink.”
ZARRAH STOOD AT the rail, watching the coast of Valcotta grow on the horizon, both counting down the minutes until she could start on the path to ridding her nation of a tyrant and wishing that time would stand still.
The ship cautiously maneuvered its way closer to shore, eventually dropping anchor in a small cove with a rocky beach, steep hills covered in pine trees rising up from the water. There was no reason to linger and every reason to rush, yet Zarrah found herself frozen by the rail.
Lara and Aren approached where she stood, Aren giving orders to his crew to ready a longboat.
Zarrah chewed the insides of her cheeks, then asked, “Is he awake?”
Ithicana’s queen gave a short nod. “Awake and on his feet. He knows your plans. Knows you are leaving.”
Yet hadn’t come up to say goodbye.
It’s for the best, she reminded herself even as she stood motionless. You need to focus on Valcotta.
He needs to return to Maridrina. Everything that needs to be said can be communicated through messengers.
No, her heart whispered. Not everything. You need to say goodbye.
Against her will, Zarrah turned to look at the door to the captain’s cabin. He deserves acknowledgement, she told herself as she waited. Deserves a thank you for everything he’s done.
Deserves …
“Damn it,” she said between her teeth, struggling to breathe, for it felt like a vise had formed around her chest. If she went into that room, words would pour from her lips that would give life to what was between them. Would give hope. And that was crueler than not saying goodbye, because no matter how much her heart might wish otherwise, there was no future between them.
Valcotta couldn’t afford it.
Slinging a leg over the edge, she climbed down the ladder into the longboat, Aren following. “We need to hurry,” she said to him. “The navy patrols for smugglers, and that’s how this will appear.”
“You have everything you need?”
“Yes.”
A lie, for she found herself looking back at the ship. Hoping to see him on the deck. Through a window.
Nothing.
The boat reached the shallows, the Ithicanians leaping out and cursing the frigid water as they pulled it onto the beach.
“Feels like the last time we parted ways,” Aren muttered, eyeing the dense forest. “Watch your back.”
Zarrah stepped onto the slick rocks of the beach, patting her bag full of coin and supplies. “Thank you.”
Aren hesitated, then said, “I wish there was more I could do for you, Zarrah, but I need to be back in Ithicana.”
She smiled. “I appreciate the sentiment, but this is my fight.”
Every minute they lingered put them at risk, but Zarrah’s eyes still drifted to the ship, searching for Keris’s familiar golden hair.
Nothing.
“Goodbye, Your Grace,” she said to Ithicana’s king, then stood watching as the Ithicanians rowed him back to the ship. Only then did she start walking. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but Zarrah didn’t look back as she climbed the narrow path up the hill, the scent of pine thick in her nose. Up and up, not pausing until she broke out of the trees. There, she stopped to look out over the sea, watching the ship sail toward the horizon.
It’s over, she chanted to herself. It’s over.
It would never be over.
“Don’t shed too many tears over their departure,” a voice said from behind her. “For all his protests to the contrary, I expect that Aren will be unable to resist sticking his nose into this rebellion.
He really does not like your aunt.”
Zarrah spun, pulling loose the sword buckled at her waist, the familiar velvet tones of Keris’s voice registering a heartbeat before her eyes latched upon him. He sat on a rock, a half-empty bottle of wine and a selection of cheese sitting beside him, a wineglass in one hand.
“What are you doing here?” she shouted before whirling back to the sea. But the ship was too far You need to focus on Valcotta. gone to signal. “They’re going to think you fell overboard!”
“I doubt it,” Keris answered, sipping at his wine. “Was Jor who rowed me to shore, and it was Aren who took his time dropping anchor to give us the time to do so.”
An unjust sense of betrayal filled her that Aren had known and said nothing. “Why? Why the fuck are you here, Keris?”
“Because you and I need to have a conversation.”
“Then we should’ve had it on the ship,” she shouted. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me, Keris. Truly, I am. But this is my fight. I need to focus on Valcotta. You need to go back to Maridrina.”
Keris took a sip of his wine, then set the delicate glass on the rock next to the cheese. “Are those your orders?”
She didn’t answer.
Rising to his feet, Keris walked toward her, the intensity in his azure eyes causing Zarrah’s stomach to flip.
He stopped in front of her, and she swayed, uncertain of whether she wanted to step forward or back. Whether she needed to attack or retreat.
“I can be reasoned with. Convinced. Persuaded.” He leaned closer, his voice low as he said, “But when it comes to matters of my family, my people, or my kingdom, I will not be ordered.”
Zarrah lifted her chin, meeting his stare unblinking. “You presume to—”
“I’m not finished.” His breath was warm, scented faintly with the wine he’d been drinking. “The reigning empress of Valcotta has her sights trained on my back. Wants to destroy me, my family, and my people. Wants to burn Maridrina to ash, yet you have the audacity to tell me that this is not my fight. To tell me to go back to Vencia to wait for your instructions like I’m one of your soldiers and beholden to your orders. I am not.”
“You think—” She cut off as his head tilted, eyes narrowing.
“And this isn’t the first time. Despite the fact your plots with Ithicana had a catastrophic impact on my kingdom and people, you didn’t involve me. Instead you came to the dam in Nerastis for the sole purpose of telling me how it was going to be.” He leaned closer still. “You had no right.”
Her heart was throbbing with such intensity that Zarrah swore it might burst from her chest.
Countless emotions filled her, but she clung to the one that always served her best. Anger. “But you had the right? You betrayed my confidence and used the information I trusted you with to make your own plans, then stood on Southwatch Island and told me how it was going to be. For you to stand here and berate me is hypocrisy. Worse than hypocrisy, because at least I didn’t betray you.”
“Didn’t you?” His voice was cool, but the pulse at his throat was rapid. “We planned together how didn’t look back as she climbed the narrow path up the hill, the scent of pine thick in her nose. Up and we’d end the war. How we’d build a peace between our kingdoms so future generations might grow up without the cloud of violence over their heads. If I’d stood aside and done nothing, if you’d taken your ships into legitimate battle to expel my father from Ithicana, it would have been oil on the flames of the Endless War. Not that you’d have lived to see it, because if you didn’t manage to martyr yourself in battle, you’d have been executed as a traitor for having failed to follow Petra’s orders. I’d have been left alive with a shattered heart in the ashes of a future that you burned, and I challenge you protests to the contrary, I expect that Aren will be unable to resist sticking his nose into this rebellion. to tell me that’s not a fucking betrayal, Valcotta.”