Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(22)

The Kaiser’s men have found me.

They’ll drag me back in chains.

It’s over.

I’ve failed.

I push those worries aside and head for the door, determined to find out what all the fuss is about, but when I open it I find Spiros on the other side, swords sheathed at his hips and his fist raised to knock.

“Y-Your Majesty,” he stutters, eyes darting around and looking anywhere but at me as his hand falls to his side.

“What’s happening?” I ask him. I have to shout to be heard over the bells.

“We’ve caught wind of a Kalovaxian trade ship a few miles east, and the captain has decided to give chase. It’s all hands on deck now as we prepare for an attack.”

My body sags with relief and I have to grip the doorframe to stay upright. We’re attacking them, not the other way around.

“Captain says you’re to stay put in your cabin until it’s safe.”

The order wraps around me like a too-tight corset, though I know it’s for the best. I’m of no use in an attack. The best thing I can do for anyone is stay out of the way.

“And are you tasked with being my nanny?” I ask instead of arguing.

He frowns. “I’m your guard, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, I’ve had guards like you before,” I say, though I immediately regret it. This is hardly Spiros’s fault. “This happens often enough, doesn’t it?” I ask.

He nods. “Every couple of weeks.”

“Will there be casualties? Of ours?” I ask.

Again he hesitates. “There is usually a cost,” he says carefully.

Ampelio thought the cost was too high, I remember Blaise saying once, about Dragonsbane and her methods.

I open the door wider. “You might as well come in. It’ll be a long morning.”

Spiros nods, the dark cloud not leaving his face as he enters my cabin.

“How long does it usually last?” I ask him.

“A few hours. She’s pretty efficient about it by now—we could probably take the ship with blindfolds on. Approach their broadside and get as close as we can before turning our cannon side to them—you want to avoid turning too quickly, because then you give them a larger target,” he explains. “It’s much harder to do damage to the bow of a ship.”

I nod and wait for him to continue.

“Sometimes they’ll surrender before we even shoot. They know Dragonsbane’s reputation by now and there’s a rumor that she’s merciful to those who surrender, that she lets them sail off to Esstena or Timmoree or some small country and live so long as they swear to never return to Astrea. But the captain’s never shown mercy to any Kalovaxian.”

“And if they don’t surrender?”

Spiros shrugs. “We fire on them until they do, or until the ship sinks. If they do surrender, we loot them and then sink the ship and all the Spiritgems on board.”

He pauses, but I can tell he isn’t done, so I don’t interrupt.

“I used to think it was an insult to the gods, to let all of those gems litter the ocean floor, but I think it’s the kindest thing we can do. It isn’t as if we can put them back in the mines. At least this way, no one can abuse them.”

For a beat, I don’t say anything, but I can hold my tongue only so long. “I’m more concerned about the slaves who go down with the ships that refuse to surrender.”

He isn’t surprised by my retort. Instead, he only seems tired. It’s not a new argument.

“It’s a high cost to pay,” he allows, though he sounds distant, lost in his own thoughts. “Sometimes it seems worth it, sometimes it doesn’t.”



* * *



—

When the Smoke fires her first cannon, shaking the ship so strongly that my unlit candle falls off my desk, Spiros doesn’t jump in surprise like I do. He barely even seems to hear it, though it leaves my ears ringing. He leans against my door like he half expects me to bolt through it at any moment.

“How many years have you been with Dragonsbane?” I ask him from my perch on the edge of my bed. I feel like I have to shout to hear myself. Once the cannon fire begins, it’s constant, though at least it all seems to be coming from our ship.

He shrugs and slides down the door until he’s sitting, arms braced on either side of him to prepare for the next cannon blast.

“Since before the siege,” he says. “I don’t really remember life before, honestly, but I know my father joined her crew after my mother died. Before that, we were in Naphia,” he says, naming an Astrean town at the base of the Grulain mountain range.

“Naphia is beautiful,” I say. “I only went there once with my mother before the siege, but the lavender fields had just bloomed and it was so lovely.”

Spiros only shrugs again. “I suppose. We went back a few years ago—Dragonsbane had been hired by refugees hiding out in the mountains and we passed through Naphia on our way. It was…” He pauses. “There was nothing. The village had been leveled and burned. The lavender fields, too. It was just barren land, like no one had ever set foot there before us. Dozens of generations, obliterated.”

My chest tightens. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I know what it is to lose your home.”