Defend the Dawn (Defy the Night #2)(77)

“So did Lieutenant Tagas. She asked me to alert her if I’ve made the decision to change course.” I hesitate. “Are we overthinking this?”

“I would feel better if he were more forthright about the contents of the locked room.” He pauses. “He can keep the key hidden, but what’s the risk of allowing you to see the weapons?”

“I agree.”

“And what’s to stop us from breaking in?”

I whip my head around.

“It’s a simple lock.” Rocco shrugs. “They truly are shorthanded. There are one or two watchmen overnight, but during the afternoon, most of the crew is either sleeping or gutting fish.” He pauses. “Of your guards, there are generally only two of us on duty at once.”

While the other is presumably sleeping.

“Do you think you could break the lock?” I say, my voice low. My heart keeps hammering along, torn between relief that the captain probably is as forthright as he seems—and terror that somehow this ship will be overtaken and I’ll be captured by someone worse.

“Breaking it wouldn’t be a problem,” Rocco says. “Leaving evidence would be.” He glances at me. “He’d know it was done by your order—if not done by you yourself.”

I have no idea how Captain Blakemore would react if I broke into that room, but I have no doubt he’d take it personally. That’s not a story I need carried to the king of Ostriary either. Rian can say whatever he wants about my reputation, but my actions in the Royal Sector were to enforce laws that were well known. Breaking into a locked room on this ship would be a lot harder to explain away—and it certainly wouldn’t demonstrate that the king of Kandala and his brother were prepared to negotiate in good faith.

I stare out at the water, at the two distant ships, at the sun that’s beginning to burn a path into dawn.

I wish I could talk to Tessa.

I remember her face when I caught her wrist, when that needle was clutched so precariously against her palm.

I remember Lochlan at my back. Let her go.

As usual, everyone already expects the worst of me. It’s part of the reason I expect the worst of everyone else.

At the opening to the deck, a head appears, peeking above. It’s Tessa, early as usual. She’s looking the other way, so she doesn’t see me. My gut clenches, and I’m tempted to call for a return to port just so I can get off this ship and go back to the way things were.

But if I’ve learned anything, there’s no going back. I can’t undo my mistakes with Tessa. I can’t fix the fever sickness, and I can’t reverse everything Harristan and I have done wrong along the way.

I can’t undo the assassination of my parents.

All I can do is move forward.

I look at Rocco. “Tell Lieutenant Tagas to stay the course. We’ll continue on to Ostriary.”

“And what of the ships?”

Tessa finally turns and spots me. Her mouth is a line, and I can’t read her expression. Experience tells me she’s every bit as conflicted as I feel. She’s probably thinking about leaping off the ladder and returning to her room.

But she doesn’t.

I sigh. “Let’s wait and see.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Tessa

I didn’t realize he’d be up here.

Sometimes I think back to my moments with Karri when we worked for Mistress Solomon, when I’d sigh over thoughts of Weston Lark. She used to warn me about how outlaws were just looking to string girls along.

In a way, I guess she was right. He was tricking me.

For a moment, I wonder if Corrick is going to remain by the railing with Rocco, to avoid any uncomfortable conflict after last night.

I should know better. Corrick’s whole life is conflict.

He strides across the short span of deck, then extends a hand to me. “Miss Cade. I trust you’ve put your needles away?”

I ignore his hand and step onto the deck on my own. “I’m sure I can find another one.”

It’s the type of sharp banter I’ve grown accustomed to exchanging with him—whether we’re working in accord or not. I expect the usual flare of challenge to light in his eyes, but … it doesn’t. He meets my gaze and holds it.

“Why are you so angry with me?” he says.

His voice isn’t loud, but Corrick never is. What he lacks in volume, he makes up for with intensity. The question nearly hits me like a fist.

“You know my reputation,” he continues. “You knew my reputation. Better than anyone, in fact.” He pauses. “You know what I’ve done. From both sides.” Another pause. “It’s discouraging to think that you would allow a few insults from Lochlan to sway your opinion of me so dramatically. I thought your character was a bit more resilient than that. Perhaps I was wrong.”

No, wait. Those words hit me like a fist.

“It’s not just Lochlan,” I say, and I have to will strength into my voice.

“Then what?” he says.

Wind carries off the sea to tug at our clothes and hair. I study him, those vibrant blue eyes that I know so well, and I refuse to look away. “It’s discouraging to think that you would climb onto a ship that’s out of the public eye and see it as an opportunity to get under my skirts.”