One Dark Throne (Three Dark Crowns #2)(57)

“Harriet will be well, with Joseph’s family?” she asks.

“She’d better be. If I return to find her in a stew pot . . .” Billy trails off. His cheeks are gray. Ashen. He has not looked at her since coming inside. Only past her. He meant to use her as a distraction from his grief, and she is failing him.

“It is not much longer until we reach Rolanth,” Mirabella says, lifting her voice.

“I know. You’re all cheaters, you elementals. Calling the winds and pushing the waves. This barely qualifies as sailing.” He smiles, but it looks wrong without touching his eyes.

“At least you saw her again,” Mirabella says gently. “At least you had time with her. I hope that your last moments were good ones.”

“I should have told her. I never told her.”

“I am sure that she knew.”

“How could she? All I did was tell her that she was unfit. Unsuitable. Infuriating, with none of the makings a man looks for in a wife.” He laughs hollowly. “And that was true. But I would have overlooked all that.”

Mirabella exhales. She meant to chuckle.

Billy reaches onto the side table and picks up a couple bits of jewelry that Bree left lying there. “This is such a strange stateroom. Things left out. Nothing nailed down.”

“No need for that on an elemental ship.”

He curls the black-and-silver bracelet in his fingers and drops his hand into his lap.

“What will you do now?” he asks. “Will you forget her too?”

Mirabella turns to her wall as though she can see through it to the tossing ocean outside. As she always does, she feels the elements all around her. The lightning she could crackle through the clear sky. The wind that would scream for her. The soft hum of the flame atop her candle. She could reach out with her gift and use the sea like her fist. Topple the ship and press it with waves until it cracked. All the elementals on board could not stop her.

But Billy is there, whom Arsinoe loved. And somewhere is Jules, who is still being hunted. And Kat. She must not forget about Kat.

Still so much work to be done.

“I will not forget her if you stay and help me to remember,” Mirabella says. “If you stay and help me to avenge her.”

“Stay,” he says.

“Yes. And rule with me, for her.”

They regard each other in the quiet, dim light. He seems as surprised to hear it as she is surprised to ask. Since she was a child, Luca tried to convince her that she was an important queen. It was a lesson she neither believed nor wanted. But she believes it now.

“You would choose me as your king,” he says.

“King-consort,” she corrects him. “But yes.”

“Is that what she would want?”

“I do not know. But we must marry someone. And the ones we would have . . . we cannot have.”

Billy stares at her hard.

“So we are a good match.” Then he shakes his head. “I can’t do this. So soon after. It feels wrong.”

“You want to avenge her, do you not? Or would you give up now and go back to the mainland? Will you go and pay court to Katharine, her murderer?”

“No,” Billy barks, and his expression turns dark. “Never.”

“Then stay and be a part of it.” Mirabella holds out her hand. She needs him to say yes. She suddenly cannot bear the thought of him leaving. He—the only suitor who loved her sister—he must be king.

“I wanted her to have everything,” he says, staring at her hand. “I wanted to have everything with her.” Mirabella waits. She lets him wipe his eyes and take his deep breaths. Billy Chatworth has a good heart. He is smart, and strong, and loyal.

“Will we seal this bargain with a handshake, then?” he asks.

“Is that how it is done on the mainland?”

“Only between men of honor,” he says, and slides his hand into hers.

It is not the first time they have touched. But this touch is charged with the knowledge that one day they will exchange much more than a handshake. Billy’s fingers slip out of hers, and he looks away, guilty. But Arsinoe and Joseph are not there to judge.

“So what now?” he asks.

“Now we take the fight to Katharine.”

The ship reaches port in Rolanth not long after, and Bree and Elizabeth come to take Mirabella above. They are surprised to find Billy already there, fastening her light summer cape about her shoulders.

“You’re wearing all black,” Elizabeth says to him.

“Black is the color of mourning where I come from.”

“Well, here it is the color of queens,” Bree says. She unties the gauzy crimson scarf at her throat and reties it onto his. “There. For your Arsinoe.”

He touches it and looks at Mirabella.

“Or should I be in all black? For you?” he asks, but she shakes her head.

“No,” Mirabella says. “That is fitting.”

Bree and Elizabeth exchange a glance. Not even they know about the betrothal agreement. Word would spread too fast, and Mirabella did not want Luca’s questions, or Sara’s worries.

Mirabella and Billy step up onto the deck together to face the massive crowd gathered at the Rolanth docks. All around the port, candles burn in the proud, white buildings, and the people are dressed in black and crimson to mourn a queen. Their eyes are somber and chins high. The only sound is the cawing of seabirds fighting over fish scraps.