Rycroft’s eyes fill with a calculating lust. He blinks at her, then turns to me. “Are you gonna tell me the reason for your visit?” he asks. “Or shall we keep playing this game?”
There was never an option to stop playing. String him along and let his suspicions get the better of him. Let him think that I’m up to no good while Lira plays to his ego and swoons on his every senseless word. Let him think that he needs to watch my every move and scour the docks where my crew waits. Let his attention be on everything but the newly demure Lira. The harmless arm piece I’m flaunting in front of him like the jackass prince I am.
“Actually,” I say, swirling the goblet of rum, “there is something.”
Rycroft leans back and hoists his feet onto the table. “Spit it out,” he says. “If it’s a trade you want, we can come to an agreement.”
His eyes flicker to Lira and she smiles coyly. I didn’t realize she was capable of looking coy, but it seems I’ve underestimated her skills of deceit. She wraps a winding piece of hair around her finger, so convincing that I have to do a double take to catch the clamped fist she’s concealing under the table. Her face betrays nothing of it.
“A yellow sapphire amulet disappeared from the Midasan royal vaults,” I say, recalling the lie verbatim as we practiced. “I was hoping you might know something.”
Rycroft’s strange features fill with delight. He arches his arms behind his head. “So you’ve come slinging accusations?” He looks far too pleased by it.
“It’s precious to me,” I tell him. “If it were to suddenly reappear or if you caught word of where it might be, the information would be very valuable. Priceless, one might say.”
I can almost see Rycroft weigh the options of whether he should pretend he has something of mine, just to watch me squirm, or offer to help me find it for a fee as large as he would like.
“I don’t have it,” Rycroft tells me, like a moth to the flame. “But I’ve heard whispers.”
Lies, I think. Such bullshit lies.
“It’s possible I know where it is.”
I swallow my smirk and feign intrigue at the chance that he could have the location of my imaginary Midasan heirloom. “What would that information cost me?”
“Time,” he says. “For me to check my sources are correct.” For him to actually gather sources. “And I think I’d also like your ship.”
I knew it was coming. For every unpredictable thing Rycroft did, there were a hundred more easily guessed. What better way to make a prince suffer than to take away his favorite toy?
I let a flicker of practiced irritation cross over my features. “Not going to happen.”
“It’s your ship or your amulet,” Rycroft says. “You have to decide.”
“And how do I know you’re not the one who has it?” I time my anger in perfect pulses. “I’m not paying you to give me back something you’ve already stolen.”
Rycroft’s eyes go dark at the insinuation. “I told you I didn’t have it.”
“I’m not going to take your word for it.”
“So, what, you want me to take you belowdecks and let your sneaky shit fingers trawl through my treasure?” he asks.
Which is exactly what I want. The entire reason we came here and talked our way onto his ship was to get a look at his spoils and confirm that Sakura’s necklace is among them.
“If you think that’s happening,” Rycroft says, “then you’re stupider than you look.”
“Fine.” I glare. Spoiled, impatient. Playing my part just as he would expect. I wave a dismissive hand over to Lira. “Let her look instead. I don’t care either way, but unless one of us has a peek at the unmentionables you’re hiding, you can keep your ship and watch the Saad sail off into the sunset without you.”
It was always going to be Lira, of course. I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell Rycroft would let the captain of the Saad into his treasure trove. But to let one of the Midasan prince’s captivating floozies take a quick look around? Maybe.
“Her,” Rycroft repeats with a snake smile. “How will she know what she’s looking for?”
“It’s yellow sapphire,” I tell him. “She’s not a complete idiot.”
Lira kicks me under the table, hard. Rycroft shoots her a devil’s smile and turns to one of his approaching shadows. The man is older than I am, his skin brandished by the sun, and I can’t help but think he looks familiar. A cleaver is sheathed to his belt, and large earrings stretch chasms into his lobes. When he leans down to whisper into Rycroft’s ear, he sweeps a long velvet coat out of the way.
I straighten, knowing where I’ve seen him before. The man from the Golden Goose. The one who started this quest by pointing me in the direction of the Sea Queens’s weakness.
He’s one of the Xaprár.
It was Rycroft who sent me after the crystal.
“I have a new bargain for you,” Rycroft says, all teeth. “Now that my men have sights on your crew, how about we both be a little more honest? Your guys are good at hiding, but they’re not Xaprár. What they are, is screwed. And they’ll be dead if you don’t tell me exactly how you plan to get the Crystal of Keto.”
I don’t blink. “Never heard of it.”
“Whose life should I bring you to get your memory going?” Rycroft slides his finger across the rim of his goblet. “The tattooed bitch with the gun? Or maybe I’ll slice the giant a new smile? Pick a person and I’ll pick the body part.”
I arch an eyebrow. “That’s very dramatic.”
“I like dramatic,” he says. “How about Kye’s head on a platter?”
“How about me killing you before your crew can even blink?”
Rycroft smiles. “But then where would your friends be?” He gestures to one of the Xaprár, who pours him another measure of rum.
“So you kill me as a trade for their lives?” I ask.
Rycroft throws his head back. “Now who’s dramatic? I wouldn’t risk starting a war with your daddy.” He waves a hand. “Just tell me what I want to know.”
“How about you tell me why you’re suddenly so interested in the crystal?”
Rycroft leans back in his chair, letting his gold teeth track to a lazy smile. “I’ve had my sights on it for a while. Every pirate likes hunting for lost treasure, and the more elusive it is the better. You know that, don’t you, Your Highness?” Rycroft pulls aside his collar. The necklace is not quite like it was in the stories. The stone is not a stone, but a droplet of blue that teeters from the chain like it’s ready to fall. Each fragment of it dances as though it’s made of water, with small ornate fangs latching around the diamond.
The lost Págese necklace. I was right. Rycroft does have it.
“I got my hands on this straight after hearing it was the key,” Rycroft says, folding his collar back over to hide the necklace.
“How did you even find out about that?”
No way had Rycroft gotten the information easily when I had to sell my country – and my damn soul – for it.