The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

Owen had never been to sea before. He had worried, based on the experiences of others, that he would be greensick like poor Justine, who spent nearly all her time aboard crouched over a bucket. She looked a miserable creature, and even had vomit in her hair. Evie was immune to the effects; she walked from one end of the ship to the other, asking questions and learning about the nautical terms, and basically charming the captain and his entire crew with her intense interest and curiosity. Owen walked in her shadow, a hand on his sword, and felt the salty breeze in his hair. He could almost feel the ocean beneath his boots, and the rhythmic sway was as gentle to him as a mother’s lullaby.

They followed the coast of Ceredigion up to East Stowe before plunging into the open sea separating the two kingdoms, which were adjacent to each other. Sailors were always nervous being in open waters, but it was not a lengthy voyage. Land was sighted on schedule, and the weather, according to the captain, had been surprisingly calm compared to the previous fortnight. Upon reaching the coast of Atabyrion, they took the eastern approach to reach Edonburick on the other side of the island. There would be no hiding the fleet, and Owen knew word of their imminent arrival would precede them to Iago Llewellyn’s court. The navigator was from the merchant fleet and knew the way to distinguish the fjords and rocks and how to maneuver the ship safely through them.

After nightfall, Owen found himself standing at the prow of the ship with Evie. She leaned over the railing, her hair whipping around as the wind caught it. She was beaming, her face soft as they faced the purple sky, the sun setting far behind them. Many in the crew had gathered to the stern to watch the sunset, as was their ritual, but Evie had wanted to face forward, toward their destination.

“Where is Justine?” Owen asked, joining her at the rail and planting his elbows next to her.

“In the cabin,” Evie said, cocking her head at Owen. She shivered with delight, her eyes glowing. “I’ve never been at sea before. I could get used to this. I would love to visit each of the kingdoms and learn about them firsthand. Books are lovely, of course, but seeing Atabyrion fills me with anticipation. Look at those mountains! They are hauntingly beautiful.”

“You wish to stay here then?” Owen asked a bit too snidely.

She gave him an annoyed look. “You don’t understand. I love traveling and visiting new places. I don’t want to come here to stay. I want to see Occitania, Genevar, and Pisan too. I want to see all the places I’ve only read about.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and leaned forward against the rail, breathing it all in. He was tempted, for just a moment, to grab her waist and startle her.

He looked around, saw that no one was looking their way, and succumbed to it.

She gasped with surprise and shock and then turned and hit him on the arm. “That wasn’t kind!” she said. “I thought I was falling!”

Owen was trying to control his laughter, which only made it worse, and she hit him again. “Stop it. You’re such a boy. We’re not eight anymore, you know. What if I had fallen in?”

He had to wipe the tears out of his eyes. “You always said you fancied to know what it would be like falling off a waterfall. It isn’t even that far down.”

“You are contemptible,” she chided, but there was her smile again, a warm knowing smile that went straight through his heart like a ballista bolt. She leaned back against the railing, her hands behind her, her head cocked to one side. The sun had set and darkness was settling in all around them, lowering like a bank of clouds preceding a storm.

Owen leaned his elbows against the rail again, inhaling the salty smell of the air.

“Why won’t you kiss me, Owen Kiskaddon?” Evie asked in a small voice, only loud enough for him to hear her. It was almost a whisper. “I’ve tried to make it obvious enough, but you are either being stubborn or you don’t want to.”

He felt a blush rise to his cheeks and his stomach flipped around like a fish on the deck.

“You don’t know how much I want to,” he said, unable to stop the words from spilling out.

“That’s comforting,” she said dryly. “At least it’s not because you don’t want to. Why haven’t you then?”

“Why are we talking about this?” he asked her.

“Because I’m a girl, and girls like to talk about kissing,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me for years and you never have. I’ve almost kissed you first a thousand times, but I always wanted you to be the one to start it. Justine is vomiting in a bucket in my room. The crew is watching the sunset over there. And your thought was to startle me by pretending to push me overboard.” She sighed with exasperation. “Sometimes I can’t figure out how your mind even works.”

Owen could hardly make sense of his churning emotions. They were a mix of delight, mortification, embarrassment, eagerness, wariness, and giddiness.

He hung his head and chuckled. She had the ability to talk about the most ridiculous things with candor. She was so open, so assured of herself. He envied her that. He was constantly riddled with worries and doubts.

“Sometimes I can’t figure it out myself,” he said honestly. “It was a perfect moment and I ruined it.”

“Yes . . . you did.” She reached over and touched his arm. When he looked up at her face, he saw tenderness there. A feeling of protectiveness came over him.

She clucked her tongue in regret. “Well, here comes the captain. Tomorrow we’ll be in Atabyrion, in front of strangers who abide by savage customs. People there eat with their hands and throw cups of wine and scream at each other during meals.” She wrinkled her nose. “They also start fights rather rashly. As one of my knights, I’m depending on you to defend my honor.” She gave him an arch look.

Owen rose and bowed to her formally. “I will defend it with my life, my lady.”

She pursed her lips at his gallant comment and then gave him a dismissing nod as the captain approached.

Later, after midnight, Owen was pacing the corridor outside her room, rebuking himself for having missed the perfect opportunity to kiss her. His conflicting emotions stymied him. He wanted to show her how he felt, to pledge his heart to her in a meaningful way. But to do so would feel disloyal to the king. This was a test, he tried to reassure himself. It was only a test. Part of him believed it, but a nagging voice in his head insisted the intended alliance with Atabyrion was real. If so, kissing her now would make things worse for them in the future. It could even damage their friendship.

He had promised Clark he would awaken him after midnight, but Owen did not know if he would even be able to sleep.