Defend the Dawn (Defy the Night #2)(57)

Someone else laughs.

Rian smiles. “My crew is awake.”

I flush, realizing just how closely we were suspended together. “I suppose we should get down.”

He nods, but he makes no move to descend. “I’m usually the first one on deck, Miss Cade.” He pauses. “If you’d like to help me check the rigging tomorrow.”

I take a deep breath and look into his eyes. “Of course, Captain Blakemore. I’m happy to help.”





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Corrick

When I wake for the second time, light streams through the window over my bed. I can’t see the sun from the porthole, but the sky is bright, the shore so distant it could be an illusion. Waves glisten in the sunlight, the ship rocking along. I rub at my eyes and hope that my middle-of-the-night conversation with Rocco was all a dream, that I’ve slept straight through.

But it wasn’t.

How long was my brother suspicious of me?

Only these last few months.

Months. And Harristan never said a word.

I shouldn’t be so upset about it. Honestly, he should have been suspicious of me for years.

He left me in the Hold for an entire day. It makes me wonder if he’s put me on this ship to get me out of the way as efficiently as he did with Lochlan.

But he snuck into my carriage before I left. He all but threatened the captain.

He sent this jacket. I slide a finger along the lapel.

I wish I could talk to my brother. My throat threatens to tighten, but I breathe through it. I’m being ridiculous. I’m not a little boy.

I want to talk to Tessa—but the irony is that I’ve closed that door, too.

My joints are sore from a poor night of sleep. Or maybe I truly am hungover this time. I should just go pick a fight with Lochlan and get it over with. Or that captain. Surely he’s around here somewhere. That might be more satisfying.

Perhaps I’m just hungry.

All of these options require leaving my quarters. I find my pocket watch and discover it’s past midmorning. Very late for me. I should have asked one of the guards to wake me.

I wash my face, then take a good look in the mirror and realize I should spare a few minutes to shave, too. It’s my first morning on board the ship. No sense looking how I feel.

I consider leaving that jacket in the trunk, but something about it keeps calling to me, so I buckle it into place again. By the time I emerge from my quarters, I’m buttoned up and presentable, my tumultuous thoughts locked away. The King’s Justice, Cruel Corrick, ready to face the decisions of the day.

Kilbourne is down the hallway a bit, near the staircase, but he heads my way when he sees me. “Your Highness.”

“Kilbourne.” I have no doubt that the guards have discussed every second of what has transpired over the last twelve hours, but they’re too well disciplined to mention any of it to my face. Even still, as Kilbourne strides toward me, I remember my early morning conversation with Rocco.

Which one of you had a mark on me?

I wonder if it was Rocco himself.

These thoughts all war with each other as Kilbourne draws close and stands at attention. “I can give you the morning’s accounting,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

“Silas is above board with Lochlan and Tessa. Rocco retired at six. He will relieve one of us at midday, unless you’d rather I call for him sooner.”

Lochlan. I remember the way he was looming over Tessa in the hallway. “Lochlan and Tessa are above board together?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been stationed in the hallway.”

Because I was sleeping. I scowl. I’m hungry and irritated, and I feel like I’ve completely lost control of everything in my life that matters.

And I’m in the middle of the Queen’s River, hurtling toward … who knows what.

“Miss Tessa awoke before Lochlan,” Kilbourne continues. “I was able to see a bit of the main deck from the stairwell. She was climbing the rigging with Captain Blakemore early this morning, but now it seems most of the crew is awake. I don’t think she’s in danger from Lochlan.”

“Wait—did you say she was climbing the rigging?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” He pauses. “They seemed to be in good spirits.”

I scowl. I want to storm onto the deck and demand answers, but I know that will only reinforce the illusion that I’m bothered by any of this.

What did Rocco say last night? Do your best to enjoy the journey. The longer they believe we are willing passengers, the more we can learn.

Fine. Kandala is most important. I can lock away my feelings. I’ve been doing it for years.

I tug my jacket straight and look at Kilbourne. I keep my voice light, as though I don’t have a care in the world. “Surely there’s a kitchen on this ship. Do you know the way?”

“I do.”

“Good. Have you eaten? I’m famished.”



The kitchen is at the front of the ship, directly opposite our cabins and one deck lower. There’s an undercurrent of smoked fish and sour ale in the air as we approach, but above all that is the sweet warm scent of something baking. When we step through the doorway, I discover the “kitchen” to be not much more than a set of ovens built into one wall, and a wide stove set into the other. No windows, so the space is overly warm, and sweat finds my brow almost immediately. Pots and pans and utensils are hung everywhere there’s room, including over the tables and benches bolted to the floor.