The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom #1)(80)

“Has it been that long?”

“You damn well know it has been.”

Aren lifted his hands in an apology, giving the woman a charming smile that Lara had never seen before on his face. Flirtatious. Familiar. The nature of their relationship dawned on Lara, her skin turning hot.

“Circumstances beyond my control. But it’s good to see you.”

The woman pushed out her bottom lip and gave him a long look. Then she sat on his knee and wrapped an arm around his neck. Lara’s fingers twitched toward the knives hidden in her boots, fury bubbling in her veins. What was he thinking, parading his mistress in front of her? Was this some sort of punishment? Was he making a point?

The woman then greeted Jor and waved at one of the servers to bring another round.

Jor drained his glass, plucking the next from the server before she’d even had a chance to set it down. “Good to see you, Marisol.”

The woman’s gaze landed on Lara. “Who’s the sullen one?”

“My cousin. He’s learning the trade.”

Marisol tilted her pretty head, eyeing Lara as though she were trying to place her face. “Eyes like that, your mother must’ve been dallying with King Silas himself.”

Aren choked on his drink. “Now wouldn’t that be something?”

“You might have more fun if you smiled a bit more, boy. You could learn more from your cousin than how to sail a ship.”

Lara gave her a smile that was all teeth, but the woman only laughed, her attention back on Aren. “How long are you here?”

“Only until tomorrow, assuming the storm breaks.”

Her jaw tightened in obvious disappointment. “So soon.”

“My presence is required back home.”

“That’s what you always say.” Marisol exhaled softly, then shook her head. “You’ll be needing rooms for your crew for the night, then? And your cousin?”

Lara’s stomach flipped. But not for him. Surely he didn’t intend . . .

“For them. And one for me as well.”

One of Marisol’s eyebrows rose, and Lara fought the urge to punch her in her pretty little nose.

Jor cleared his throat. “He’s gotten himself married off, Marisol.”

The woman stood so abruptly that she knocked against the table, sending liquid sloshing out of the glasses.

Setting down his drink, Aren gave Jor a black glare, but the older man only shrugged. “No sense belaboring the conversation. Now she’s been told, so we can get on with business.”

Marisol’s eyes glittered, and she blinked rapidly. “Congratulations. I’m sure she’s charming.”

“She has a temper like wildfire and a sharp tongue to go along with it.”

Marisol’s gaze shifted to Lara, far too many realizations flashing through her eyes. Rather than staring her down like she wanted to, Lara fixed her attention on a crack in the table. “I’m sure she’s very beautiful,” the other woman said.

Aren was quiet for a moment. “As beautiful as clear skies over the Tempest Seas. And equally as elusive.”

Lara’s stomach flipped as his words registered, a compliment wrapped in a dark truth that she couldn’t deny.

“Well, that explains why you’re in love with her, then,” Marisol said softly. “You’ve always been enthralled by challenges.”

Lara snatched up one of the little glasses and downed the contents, her ears buzzing even as she looked anywhere but at Aren.

Jor coughed loudly, then waved his arms in the air. “We need a round of drinks over here.”

“Perhaps more than one.” Marisol sat at the table, giving the slightest of nods to the musicians. They set aside the stringed instruments, retrieving drums and tambourines, filling the room with rhythm. Young women dressed in bright-colored dresses danced through the tables, the bracelets of bells around their wrists and ankles jingling as their voices accompanied the music. Moments later, the patrons began to clap, the din making it hard for Lara to hear herself think.

Marisol clapped along. “There is no evidence the king is building up his fleet in an effort to fight the Valcottan blockade. Not even any sign that he intends to. I have informants up and down the coast, and not a single shipyard boasts a commission from the crown.”

Lara blinked. This woman was a spy?

“The prices of imports have skyrocketed. Food is limited to what Maridrina can produce itself, which is little given all our farmers have been turned to soldiers, and famine is on the rise in the cities. It’s only expected to worsen.”

Aren clapped along in time to the music. “Amarid isn’t picking up the slack? I would’ve thought they’d be clamoring for the opportunity.”

Marisol shook her head. “Amaridian sailors are crying in every port that the alliance between Ithicana and Maridrina has destroyed their incomes.” Her eyes flicked to Aren. “And now that the alliance isn’t working out as intended, they seem happy for Maridrina to pay the price.”

“Vindictive of them.”

Marisol took a sip from her drink, then nodded. “The support of the Maridrinian people for the conflict with Valcotta had been on the wane for years, because no one believed there was anything to be gained from it. But since the wedding and Valcotta’s subsequent retaliation, favor for all-out war with Valcotta has grown tenfold. Men and boys both are throwing themselves at army recruiters, fancying themselves the saviors of their people, and—” Marisol broke off, casting a quick glance at Lara.