Quirking her head, Sol pulled her knees into her chest. “Why do you pity those who cross me?” she asked. “If you’re uncertain of his temperament, who’s to say he won’t turn on me, too?”
“He came right to you on the island,” Amael answered. “You’re probably the first creature he’s seen that didn’t try to kill him for what he is. As far as Indyr is concerned, you’re his mother. He’d never hurt you.” Amael’s eyes darkened with a barely subdued fury. “The Dryuans take entire clutches of eggs from their mothers, then pair them with a trainer. They’re the first thing the dragons see when they hatch, and no matter what they do to them, they’ll always obey their trainer. They’ll always submit and defend.”
Sol worried at her bottom lip. She was tentative as she asked, “Were you ever paired with a dragon?”
Amael’s shoulders slumped. “Yes,” he said. “A hatchling, like Indyr. We weren’t supposed to name them, but I called her Ryvis.”
“Is Ryvis the reason you were exiled?” Sol inquired. “Because you refused to hurt her?”
He nodded. “Nero gave me the whip,” he began. “And said that if I didn’t do it, he would. But I knew that if Nero did it, if he took that whip to Ryvis, he’d inflict more pain than necessary. So, I tried. I lifted the whip and was prepared to swing until that godsdamned creature looked at me.” Amael swallowed. “Nero always said that dragons weren’t capable of feeling emotion beyond fear and rage, but the look in Ryvis’ eyes… It was love, or something close to it, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t do it.”
“Did Nero?”
“Until he drew blood.”
Her Magic surged, flooding into her veins until Sol clenched her fists. “What happened to Ryvis?”
“I don’t know,” Amael said quietly. “She was probably given to someone else after they banished me. Someone far more cruel that could do what I couldn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Sol told him earnestly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind talking about it,” he said. “Not with you. I worry for Ryvis and what became of her, but at least we were able to save Indyr. I’m grateful for that.”
Sol hummed her appreciation. “Why do you think they left him behind?”
“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “If he didn’t move much in the egg, they might have thought he was a dud and not worth the trouble.”
“A dud?”
“A bad egg,” Amael revised. “Though if that were the case, I’m surprised they didn’t just crush him—”
“Please,” Sol begged. “Don’t finish that.”
He smiled apologetically. “Regardless of why they left him, I’m glad they did. I’ll sleep much better at night knowing you’ve got two mythical beasts looking after you in Nedros.”
Sol patted Draven’s head, his ears twitching in his sleep. “You think Indyr will be as popular in Nedros as he is on the Refuge?”
“I think you’d do well to find yourself a nice, quiet piece of land somewhere away from the city.”
She chuckled. “I’ve lived in solitude all my life,” she mused. “I suppose it wouldn’t be hard to return to it.”
Amael lolled his head towards her, his back pressed against the mizzenmast. “You were only kept in solitude so that suitors weren’t beating down your father’s door and asking for your hand in marriage. That’s not a pleasant way to live, and you don’t deserve that.”
“Perhaps not,” Sol agreed. “But I grew used to it. It was the only life I knew.”
“Was,” Amael said. “Not anymore. This ship is far from solitude.”
She playfully elbowed his knee. “Yes, because I had people like you that ruined my plans and didn’t let me hide in the shadows.”
The boatswain snorted, reaching into the wooden basket beside him and plucking out an orange. He dug his nails into the peel. “Admit it,” he said. “You’ve enjoyed your time with us. You might even consider us friends.”
A small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I have,” she admitted. “And you are my friends—you especially. You’ve shown me a kindness I have not known in years, and will likely never find again.”
Amael handed her an orange wedge. “You could stay, you know.”
Sol turned to him, her brow creasing as if she did not understand. “Stay?”
“Stay,” he repeated. “Here. With us.”
It was a thought that had not crossed her mind, calling this ship home like the rest of them. It struck her like lightning, the silent hand that Amael was offering her, this idea that perhaps she could stay.
“The crew would have me?”
“Of course,” he said, starting on a second orange wedge. He slipped the entire piece into his mouth and grinned at her.
Sol stifled a laugh behind her fingers. “What about Indyr?”
Amael bit off a chunk of the fruit. “What about him?” he asked. “It’ll be years before he’s bigger than the ship, and if we let him, someday he’ll spend most of his time in the water.”
Sol chewed on her orange wedge, juice dripping down her chin that she hastily wiped away with the back of her sleeve. Silas would have scolded her for it. “I don’t think Fynn—”
“Believe me, Princess. Fynn would be beside himself if you stayed.”
She let it slide that Amael had addressed her by title. “He’s barely spoken to me in days,” Sol reminded him. She pretended that her heart did not ache. “He’ll be glad to wash his hands of me.”
Amael’s laugh was bursting with amused disbelief. “Gods, both of you are so—so stupid. You really have no idea how wrong you are, do you?”
Taken aback, the rest of Sol’s orange wedge slipped between her fingers. Draven snatched it up and swallowed it whole. “Excuse me?”
“Ask him,” Amael said. “Ask Fynn if you can stay. See what he says.”
Sol shook her head. She brought her knees into her chest again. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” It was a simple question, and not the demand that she had expected.
“Because I’ve been lying to him,” Sol said. “He thinks I’m from Valestorm.”
Amael’s expression softened. “Fynn won’t care about that,” he told her. “It took months for me to tell him that I was Nero’s heir apparent, and all he did was clap me on the back and say, ‘thanks for trusting me.’”
She dropped her chin to her knee. “I think this might be different,” she said. “You didn’t kiss him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“True,” Sol grumbled, jealousy pinging through her. “It seems to me he kisses everyone.”
The boatswain chuckled and sucked on another piece of orange. “Not everyone,” he said. “He’s actually quite picky. Which is why you should ask him if you can stay.”
“And if he says no?”
“He won’t,” Amael sighed. “But if he did, I’d kick his ass all the way to Nedros.”