She was right, but there was too much to do. “I need to speak to Zarrah.”
His sister looked away, her jaw tightening. “I don’t think that’s wise. Better to leave her be.”
Keris shoved away the bowl of broth she’d placed in front of him. He realized now that when he’d told Lara that he didn’t expect Zarrah to forgive him, he’d been full of shit. That in his selfish and arrogant core, he’d thought that risking everything to rescue her would matter. That it would earn him, if not another chance, then at least some form of … of … well, he didn’t know exactly what.
The door opened, and Jor stepped inside. “We’ve found ourselves a cove north of Arakis, but we need to be fast. There are patrols, and they’re quick to sink those they believe are attempting to avoid port taxes.” His eyes locked with Keris’s. “The plan is to bring Zarrah to the beach by longboat, then part ways.”
Did she even plan to say goodbye?
He’d sailed half the continent, risked life and limb, to haul her ass out of the worst prison in the known world, and he wasn’t even worth a goddamned goodbye.
“Aren’s asking for you,” Jor said to Lara.
His sister made a face, then said, “Stay with Keris. Make sure he doesn’t do anything that will aggravate that wound.” Then she rounded on him. “You’re Maridrina’s king. Your kingdom is a mess, yet you’ve left it in the hands of a half sister you barely know, all the men and women who run it duped into believing you’re in Ithicana by Ahnna and her forgers, who will have your people convinced you’ve agreed to God knows what. You need to go back, and Zarrah needs to press
forward. She will need your support, but you can only give it from Vencia. You can only give her what she needs if you are Maridrina’s king, and that means you must be apart.”
“If I go back and something happens to her, what then?” he asked. “How long until Petra, her rule secure, marches north? Maridrina doesn’t have the strength to defend Nerastis when she decides to take it. Doesn’t have the strength to stop her if she presses north, taking my territory and slaughtering my people. In going to war with Ithicana, Father played into her plans, because Maridrina is weaker now than it has ever been, and me sitting in his tower in Vencia will not change that. Ensuring Zarrah has the chance to take back the crown will.”
“Never mind that Zarrah’s twice the fighter you are, how do you expect to help her when you’re barely out of your deathbed?” Lara threw up her hands. “She doesn’t even want you with her, Keris.
Getting an elbow under himself, he tried to get upright, but pain turned his vision white. “Fuck,” he She wants to do this alone. So let her.”
Rather than answering, Keris slowly climbed to his feet. “Take care of yourself, Lara.” He caught hold of her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are the queen Ithicana needs, little sister, and in time, it will become the kingdom you deserve.”
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.”
Keris shoved away the bowl of broth she’d placed in front of him. He realized now that when he’d arrogant core, he’d thought that risking everything to rescue her would matter. That it would earn him,
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.