My heart leaps as I feel his breath there.
“Your enchantments last long after your song fades.” His voice takes on a huskier tone, and my senses sharpen with it. His lips brush my neck as he starts kissing his way up to my hairline. My body shudders, an uncontrollable reaction to him. He smiles against my skin, pleased by the response.
I swallow. “I thought we weren’t supposed to be kissing anymore.”
“We are not kissing,” he whispers. “I’m kissing you.” His free hand slides around my waist, pressing me into him. “Your skin tastes so good.” His teeth nip at my neck, and an excited gasp leaves my mouth.
I’m about to round on him, possibly to demand a kiss or fifty from him, but then Mandsy arrives with her kit.
“I’ve got everything,” she says brightly. “I’ll have you patched up in no time.”
Riden doesn’t move. I’m still facing the window, so I can’t begin to imagine the look on her face.
“Or I could come back later,” she says in the same chipper tone of voice. Nothing fazes her.
“No,” Riden says. “The captain needs treating now. I’ll leave you to it.” His warm arms leave me, and his footsteps retreat until they’re cut off completely by the door shutting.
What the hell just happened?
Does he think I’ve forgotten how he reacted to my saving him from drowning? He can’t just make everything disappear by touching me!
Although, apparently, he can, since I forgot completely about it in the moment.
I shake my head and turn toward Mandsy. She doesn’t look as though she saw anything of note. She’s smiling, but she always smiles.
“Have a seat, Captain.” She points toward the bed.
I don’t realize how warm I am until Mandsy touches a cool cloth to my blood-streaked face. Its weight is a comfort, unlike everything else.
Lotiya is dead. My father is almost upon us. My mother is probably swimming somewhere without a care in the world. My muscles sag from the fighting and running and heavy lifting. And I can’t even begin to figure Riden out.
It just keeps piling up, and I don’t want to deal with any of it.
“What took you so long?” I ask Mandsy to distract myself.
“Took me a while to get a barrel of freshwater opened.”
Her response is far too hasty. She’s meddling again, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“Oh, all right. So I thought the two of you could have a nice moment together. The least he could have done was help you out of your clothes so I could better—”
“Mandsy!”
She holds up her hands in defense. “I’m just saying—”
“Well, stop just saying.”
“Sure thing, Captain.”
She stays silent, but a knowing smile won’t leave her face.
*
Mandsy has me cleaned in no time. I didn’t need stitches, although I’ll likely have that man’s canines printed into my flesh forever.
By the time I leave my rooms, the mast is cut to scale, and the crew carefully lowers it into the space left by the previous one. It’s a balancing act, raising such a massive piece of wood without tipping over the ship. They’ve attached pulleys to the foremast and mizzenmast to get the trunk upright, and I jump in to help. After that’s done, we have to attach the crossbeams and fasten Roslyn’s crow’s nest up top. The sails are attached next.
As soon as the mast is functional, we set sail again. Radita is a little put out at not being able to polish out all the flaws, but it’s vital that we get sailing again. The crew whoops as the sails fill with wind. We begin moving at our usual quick pace once again. I look over my back at the horizon; no sign of the fleet yet.
At night we light the lanterns. We let the remains of Lotiya’s body drift off to sea, buried with the fallen pirates before her. When her soul departs from her body, it will follow the lantern light and find the water’s surface. From there, it will be able to see the stars and fly up to the heavens. Every soul parted from this world is a star in the sky. They live in peace, reunited with lost loved ones at last.
Deshel is silent through the whole affair, never taking her eyes off the water, as if willing her sister to return to life. My own heart aches at the loss. Deshel may blame me, but I blame the man who forced me into this course of action. My father is at fault. No one else.
*
After another week at sea and no signs of the fleet, I relax. We’ve put some more distance between us, and I don’t feel the need to look over my shoulder every hour.
My wound is healing nicely, and everyone is in better spirits. I finally have the time to deal with other things.
With Riden things.
I find him belowdecks, sitting in a bunk opposite Deshel, both of their faces somber. He puts a consoling hand on her shoulder. I wonder if he’s feeling guilty for all the complaints he made against the sisters. Trying to make up for it somehow.
As I watch him comfort her, I’m struck with the thought of how good he is. I mock his attempts at being honorable, but in this moment, it’s so easy to see that he truly is a generous and thoughtful person. I’m sure he imagines how he would feel if he were to lose his brother. He has so much kindness to offer a woman he usually can’t stand.
And yet, when a woman he does like saves his life, he has nothing but contempt. And then he has the audacity to touch me, to whisper tantalizing thoughts in my ear, to kiss my skin. As though nothing happened.
The anger rippling through me could make the sea boil.
I approach the two.
“I forget she’s gone sometimes,” Deshel says. “I catch myself looking for her, calling out her name, even. And then I remember.… That’s the worst part. Realizing it over and over again. There’s a constant ache, too, but then it will really slam into me all of the sudden.”
“There were times I would forget my father was dead,” Riden says, “but I always felt relief when I remembered. I can’t imagine what it would be like in your situation. I’m so sorry. I’m here whenever you’d like to talk.”
“Thank you. I think I’d like to be alone now, though.”
Deshel looks up, noticing me. “Captain.” She stands, takes a step toward me. “About before, I’m sorry for what I said. I do not blame you. I was hurting—am hurting—more than I ever have before.”
“It’s already forgotten,” I tell her.
She nods once before lying back down in her bunk.
“I need to see you in my quarters,” I say to Riden.
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
I don’t answer him. I turn for the stairs leading above, expecting him to follow. I relax slightly when I hear his steps behind me. But I’m still worried over the conversation ahead. I don’t know how it will go. If it will only make things worse.
Riden shuts the door behind himself as he steps into my rooms. Natural light pours in from the portholes, illuminating his even features.
He leans against a wall, crossing his arms lazily over his chest. “What have I done?”
“I’m ready for your apology,” I tell him.