Defend the Dawn (Defy the Night #2)(109)

One of the crewmen pours a bucket of water across the deck, and it’s like ice when it hits my knees. My eyes snap open, glaring, and I find Tor shoving filthy water across the deck with a broom.

He sees my look and shrugs. “Can’t help it. Orders are orders.”

Nearby, a woman moans, and I jerk my head around, worried it’s Tessa.

No, it’s the blond woman who’s all but lying in a heap against the mast beside Rocco. Her hair is a wild mess of tangles, and her clothes are loose and ill fitting. Her skin is the color of wet sand, her eyes so dark they could be black. She’s so thin that I can’t tell how old she is. Not much older than Tessa, surely.

She uses her bindings to lever herself upright, then blinks at the sun. She cranes her neck around to see Rocco, then me, then the crew.

Tor gives her a grin. “Looking bright this morning, Bella.”

She inhales deeply and coughs—then spits at him. “Make a meal of your own entrails, Tor.”

He laughs and sweeps another bucketful of water away. “Always a lady.”

She’s wheezing a bit, but she looks at me. “Which one are you?”

I’m not sure if my titles would be a good thing or a bad thing to this woman, and I’m hopeful she’ll give me more information than the captain is willing to share.

“My name is Corrick,” I say.

“The prince.” She sneers. “You’re the one who’s stupid enough to give him steel.”

No, I’m the one who was stupid enough to get on this ship at all. “He has me tied to the mast,” I say. “I don’t think I’ll be giving him much of anything.” I pause. “Who are you?”

She evaluates me like she’s also wondering how much to share. But she works her fingers against the bindings, then must realize secrets don’t matter. “I’m Bella,” she says. “Rian’s keeping me for leverage.”

“That makes two of us. Why are you leverage?”

“So my father doesn’t blow this ship out of the water.” She coughs again, then wheezes. She turns her head to yell at Gwyn. “But he should. I hope he does. I don’t care if I drown. I’ll scream it to him the whole—”

She breaks off coughing again, then wheezes, trying to catch her breath.

Her fractured breathing doesn’t just remind me of Harristan’s lingering illness. It sounds so much of the fever sickness—which Rian said wasn’t prevalent in Ostriary. Did she catch it from us somehow? Or was he lying?

Or do they simply have so much Moonflower that no one ever gets sick? Has he been withholding medicine from her? Is that why she was locked in that room?

But then I realize what Bella said. “Why would your father blow him out of the water?” I say. I consider all the political ramifications here, and I straighten. “Is your father the king? Is that why he’s holding you—”

She bursts out laughing, a sound bordering on hysteria. “My father is Oren Crane, and he should be king. If he were, Rian would’ve been dead a year ago.” She sobers quickly, her eyes a little wild. She screams at the stateroom. “He should have slit your throat, Rian. He should’ve drowned your brat, Gwyn. He should’ve—”

Rian steps out on the deck. “That’s enough, Bella.”

“Or what?” she demands. “You’ll lock me back in that room? You’ll keep feeding me poison? Go ahead.” Rian starts walking toward her, but she keeps going. “They already know who you are, you lying, conniving son of a—”

“I don’t,” I say quickly, worried Rian is going to shut her up and I’ll learn nothing new. “Tell me.”

She looks at me. “You don’t know who he is?”

Rian is striding across the deck now.

“He said he was a spy sent by Kandala,” I say in a rush. “He said he wanted to introduce me to the king of Ostriary with the goal of negotiating for steel. He was willing to liaise with the royal court—”

She bursts out laughing again. “Liaise with the royal court.” Her laughter ends with choked coughing. Rocco meets my eyes with concern.

“Bella,” Rian says sharply.

I look from him to her. I’m still not fully sure what’s happening here. “There’s no royal court?”

“Oh no. There is.” She spits at Rian’s boots, then glares up at him, a trail of saliva clinging to her chin. “But you don’t need a liaison. You could negotiate with the king right now.”

My thoughts are spinning, but on that sentence, they go still. Even my heart seems to pause. The crew is paying attention now. Brooms have stopped. Chatter has gone silent.

I look up at Rian, backed by the sun. The wind tugs at his clothes and sparks color in his cheeks, but he’s staring back at me implacably.

I’m not loyal to Kandala. I never was.

“Go ahead, Your Majesty,” says Bella, choking on laughter again. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Harristan

I’m alone in the workshop for what feels like an hour, but is probably less than half. It’s not until Quint and Thorin are gone that I wonder if I should have had them wait until Saeth returned.

I’m not sure what good that would’ve done, though. Right now, time is our enemy. I’m terrified the night patrol will come crashing through the woods at any moment, waiting to drag me back to face whoever is willing to stand against me.