Sea Witch(28)
14
I DON’T KNOW HOW SHE ACTS SO CALM AS WE WALK down to meet Nik for breakfast. It must be the sea in her veins, flowing against the tide no matter what the weather. My entire body might as well be one giant bundle of nerves tied up in a sailor’s knot on her behalf, but Annemette walks out onto the sun-drenched balcony off the third-floor ballroom looking as enchanting and confident as anyone could, her blue dress casting her eyes a deep ocean hue and her butter-blond hair shining in the sun.
We blink into the bright light and are met with a spectacular view of the harbor. I know our corner of the sea so well, but it’s different from this angle, nearly the whole coast in sight. It’s an empowering view, to be able to see all that you rule over. The current is moving faster than usual for this time of year, and I turn my back, not wanting to dredge up old memories.
“Good morning, ladies. Won’t you have a seat?” Nik stands and pulls out the chair to his right. “Mette?”
Annemette blushes and takes the coveted place. I push my nerves down and greet him with a wink as he pulls out my chair. It’s then that I see he’s a bit red himself, that blush from last night back again at the sight of Annemette. Nik, the romantic. A good sign for sure.
True to his word of protecting Annemette from the evils of our seafaring diet, Nik asked the palace kitchens to avoid the traditional breakfast herring and traded up for summer sausage, sweet rolls dripping in fresh butter, and raspberries flush with dew. Served with it is black tea, hot and fragrant.
My stomach growls at the mere vision of all this food. It had been churning all morning, my anxiety getting the better of me. I am starving.
“Goodness, Evie. Do you have a tiger hidden in your bodice?” Nik laughs into the delicate china of his teacup.
“You know me, always smuggling wild animals to breakfast,” I joke.
“I’d expect nothing less from your dark magic.” Nik laughs again, and he has to put the cup back into the saucer to keep from spilling it over his shirt.
Meanwhile, Annemette can’t hide her surprise. She stares at me, confused. After all that fuss I made about how we must keep our magic a secret here, the crown prince, of all people, is laughing over it.
“Nik should know better than to spread dangerous rumors like that.” I gently elbow him. This is a game we play, Nik and I. Joking about the “magic” in my family—even if his joke is closer to the truth than he knows. “My tante, Hansa—”
“She turns men to toads and makes a soup out of them,” Nik says, brows shooting dramatically under his hair. Annemette laughs, which only encourages him. “It’s a great bit of luck you didn’t have her pea soup last night.”
Annemette’s lips drop open.
“It’s green for a reason.” I wink at her.
Nik and I burst into a fit of laughter, and it feels good to relax. His fingers scramble to touch the bare skin at her wrist. Maybe this will work.
“We kid, Mette,” Nik goes on. “Tante Hansa is a marvel of a medicine woman—she’s saved my father a few times when our own doctor failed, and I’ll never forget it. She’ll take great care of your chaperone—but she can’t turn men into toads.” Annemette nods, a quizzical grin pulling up against her pink cheeks. Nik lowers his voice, conspiracy thick in his tone as he turns his back on me. “Though I wouldn’t put it past the old bat to have curbed my cousin’s playboy ways so that he might fall for her niece.”
I elbow him again, this time quite hard, and both he and Annemette laugh. “If she has that magic, it’s certainly gone awry, considering he didn’t come for the festival,” I say.
“Surely that’s Iker’s mistake,” Nik says, snagging a sweet roll.
“I don’t make mistakes, Cousin.”
We glance up. Iker is standing in the threshold, his back propped casually against the doorframe. His skin is tan from days spent on deck in the high sun, making his hair seem more bleached than usual. He absentmindedly rubs at the scruff blurring the cut of his strong jaw, something I’m sure Queen Charlotte will insist he shave. I hope he declines.
My heart is beating in my throat as he looks over at me and our eyes meet. He grins.
Don’t smile. Don’t get up. He promised he’d return days ago. Stay strong.
I cave. A small smile creeps up on my lips and, in turn, his grin blooms larger. He strides over, and suddenly I’m afraid he’s going to kiss me right there in front of everyone. In front of Nik. He pauses before me and bends down, his fingers grazing my chin as his face moves closer to mine.
Please don’t.
Gods, I wish he would.
His lips land softly on my forehead. I breathe out a sigh, whether it’s relief or disappointment, I don’t know.
“Hello, Evelyn,” he says, standing upright again. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
Before I can say anything, he strides over to Nik, stealing the sweet roll straight out of his fingertips. “Hello, Cousin. Glad to see you’re looking so well,” he says, then takes a bite of the roll.
Nik stands, and the two embrace. “Mother has been in a royal tizzy over your tardiness—I hope you found that king whale you were looking for.”
“I wish,” Iker replies, frustration echoing in his voice. It’s unlike him not to get what he wants. “We chased him past the tip of the Jutland, but he’s a slippery bastard.”