It’s the tricorne he gifted me our first day at sea.
“How did you …？”
“I snagged it before Vengeance went down. I hoped you might accept it eventually.”
“Where have you been keeping it all this time?”
“Close to my heart.”
The answer is ridiculous, but I adore it anyway. He reaches his hand out and puts the tricorne on my head. It gets caught on my ponytail, so I undo it and regather my hair closer to my neck.
“I like you,” I say, even though the words are as sharp to my consciousness as any blade is to my body.
“I like you more,” he says.
“That may have been true once. I don’t think so anymore.”
“No?”
I step closer, so we’re sharing the same breath.
“No.”
And I finally take the kiss I want.
Or rather, we share it.
Chapter 26
IT’S NOT AT ALL like the last few times.
Then I was changed by the panaceum or weakened with an injury or high off the thrill of victory and covered in blood.
But now? Now I’m fully myself.
And he kisses me in the way a pirate assassin ought to be kissed.
With fervor.
His arms wrap around me, trapping me against him. One lands on the small of my back while the other presses between my shoulder blades. At first, I worry about what to do with my arms, but they find the most natural position around his neck. All the better to keep his mouth fused to mine.
He smells of salt and leather and soap. He tastes like water. He feels like death.
Yes, death. That sweet, sweet moment just before I end someone. When I know I’m relishing in vengeance yet again. He is that feeling magnified by a hundred. A sense of accomplishment and rightness and mine.
He is mine just as much as those lives I take.
But he burns with life. I feel the heat of him from my head to my toes. It’s more effective than any fire. Makes me feel alive in a way temperature can only hint at.
This is a dance I enthusiastically take part in. The dance of our lips to the music of our rapid breathing.
I know how to issue out threats with the merest of gestures, but I didn’t realize how my blood could pump faster when he moves his hands to my waist, moves his thumbs along the straight line of my stomach.
And when he lifts me onto the desk, I suck in a breath of air before he captures my lips again. His hands are on my legs now, widening them so he can slip between and press our bodies together once more.
That’s when I finally uncoil my arms from around him so I can do some exploring of my own. I wrap my hands around his biceps to feel the strength of his arms from atop his clothes. I clasp my ankles together behind his back, pull him flush against me, let my fingers roam up and down his back.
That night, no more knocks come to the door. No, everyone lets their captain get her rest.
Except that night, I get none.
I’m too busy kissing the man who loves me.
THE DRIFTA LOWER NETS into the water to catch food for everyone during the journey. The Islanders crew the ship. Everyone does their part to help us reach home.
The below-freezing temperatures drift away until it’s only the normal cold of the north. We are close to reaching the Seventeen Isles. Perhaps only a day or two’s sail now.
The entire journey has been smooth and quick. Not a single skirmish to be found on or off the ship.
And then, “Ships on the horizon!” Roslyn’s shout rouses the whole crew to full alertness.
I join her up in the crow’s nest, Dimella’s spyglass in tow.
What I find brings a smile to my lips.
“Who is it?” Roslyn asks.
“It’s the queen. She came for us.”
“Looks like we didn’t need her help after all.”
“Nope. We saved ourselves in the end, but it’ll be nice to explain the situation to her sooner rather than later.”
Roslyn nods. “Do you think my papa is with her?”
“Only death would have stopped him from being on that ship.”
Roslyn thinks on this. “Suppose I best work on my apology, then.”
“You’ve had months to do so,” I point out.
“Aye, and I haven’t thought of anything yet.”
“Just try for honesty and sincerity.”
“Sincerity?”
“Don’t fake anything.”
“Oh.”
I leave her to think on that and slide back down to the deck.
“It’s Alosa,” I say to Dimella and those near her. “The Ava-lee leads five ships toward us.”
“Thank the stars!” Enwen says.
“Aye. You might be meeting them soon if we can’t find a way to let her know it’s us. Don’t forget, we’re on a foreign ship now.”
Dimella says, “We haven’t our colors. They went down with the ship.”
“We’ll need something the queen will recognize,” Kearan puts in.
And as I eye him, I know just what to do.
“Your coat,” I say, gesturing to Kearan. Alosa is all too familiar with it. “Off with it, and we’ll hoist it high.”
By the time we’re close enough to the pirate queen’s fleet to make out the flags on all her ships, Kearan’s coat is strung high, flapping in the breeze. We’ve explained the situation to the Drifta, and they grow slightly on edge. I don’t blame them. They’re about to meet a foreign monarch. No one would expect the likes of Alosa.
A few hours pass before we’re finally upon each other. Alosa surrounds us with her ships before lining up the Ava-lee with our vessel. A gangplank is lowered, and the queen treads across the distance between the two ships with all the grace and beauty one would expect from a half siren. Two men walk just behind her. The first is, of course, the frantic Wallov, whose eyes scan the ship in search of his daughter. The other is Riden, the queen’s consort.
Alosa’s crew follows after them. They fan out along the edges of the ship, as is protocol when boarding a captured vessel.
Alosa scans the entirety of the ship, taking the measure of all the unfamiliar faces. When her gaze lands on me, she strides forward and embraces me. In my ear, she asks, “Roslyn?”
“Alive and well. She’s at her usual post.”
Alosa claps me on the back before turning to Wallov. “I think you’ll find your daughter up in the crow’s nest.”
He takes off toward the mainmast. I look up at the top, where just Roslyn’s eyes are peeking over, watching her papa advance with a desperation that almost tears at my heart.
To me, the queen says, “I see you’ve brought back with you more than I sent you out for.”
“Aye, Captain. There were lots of folks that needed saving.”
“From?”
“A siren artifact and a man’s greed.”
At that, Dynkinar steps forward, her little translator in tow. It makes sense that she would rather one of her own speak for her than have me be the go-between. She bows her head in a sign of respect, and Alosa does the same.
“I am Dynkinar, last surviving Speaker for my people,” the boy translates. “We are blessed to meet you, Queen Alosa. Captain Sorinda has told us much about you and your greatness.”
“Greetings, Dynkinar. Perhaps we’d better find a place to talk so you can both tell me the whole story?”