Kiva winced and didn’t dare look toward where the redhead was talking with Naari, Ashlyn, and the captain, knowing she deserved whatever the ex-quarrier was going to say. Instead, she scanned the unfamiliar faces of the crew and asked, “Where’s Galdric? And Eidran?”
“Galdric’s resting.” Caldon took a sip from his wooden tumbler. “He’s been using magic for most of the day, and he has to be careful not to deplete it entirely or he won’t be able to windfunnel us once we’re close enough to Valorn. Ash will be taking over for him tonight, with the two of them sharing the load for the next few days.”
“And Eidran?”
“Poor bugger is seasick,” Caldon said, but there was humor in his voice. “It hit him just after lunch. I’m not sure who had the worse day: you or him.”
Concerned, Kiva asked, “Why didn’t someone come and get me?”
Caldon sipped his drink again. “Does your magic work on seasickness?”
“I don’t know, but even if it doesn’t, I’m still a healer,” she said. “I could have helped him some other way.”
“Perhaps. But that would have required you unlocking your door,” he returned dryly.
That caused Kiva’s cheeks to heat. “I needed time to think.”
“And did that time do you any good?”
While Caldon was speaking, Jaren stood, and, after nodding to Torell and ruffling Tipp’s hair, he left the table, smiling politely to the crew members he passed on his way toward the door.
Kiva’s mouth turned dry and her pulse kicked up speed, but she quickly answered Caldon’s question. “I’m about to find out.”
And then she pushed back her seat and hurried after the crown prince before she could change her mind.
Jaren was already halfway across the deck by the time she exited the captain’s quarters, moving swiftly enough that she had to call his name, prompting him to turn with clear surprise.
Kiva approached slowly. The night was dark, but the ship was lit by luminium lanterns that cast a soft glow across the wood, with moonlight reflecting off the white sails overhead. It was absurdly romantic, but she quashed that thought and concentrated on the speech she’d spent all day memorizing.
When she was only a few feet away, she stopped to gather herself, unconsciously taking in how his dark leathery armor fit him perfectly and highlighted his strong muscles and his —
No! Kiva scolded herself sharply, knowing now was not the time to be admiring how good he looked. This was already going to be hard enough for her.
Summoning every ounce of her courage, she looked over his shoulder at the ocean and recited, “I want to apologize for what happened last night — for what I did, and for what I said.” She slid the topaz ring from her finger and handed it to him, careful not to touch his skin as she dropped it into his palm. “I know that must have been uncomfortable for you, not just the angeldust part because of everything with your mother — and just to say, I — well — you now know I’ve had some problems with it in my recent past” — she hugged her elbows awkwardly — “but I didn’t choose it because I wanted to choose it. As I said last night, the Mystican saw it was one of my greatest fears, and she exploited that.” Kiva winced at the unspoken mention of what her other greatest fear was, and hurried to add, “So to clarify, it’s not something I’m tempted to partake of willingly in the future, in case that’s a concern.”
Aware that she was flubbing her speech, she quickly went on, knowing the next part would be even more challenging. “As for everything I said about you, I think it’s best if we both try to forget, um, all of that.” She winced again at her poor articulation, before making herself meet his gaze. In the back of her mind, she noted that his face wasn’t blank and emotionless like it had been for most of their journey, but she couldn’t afford to think about that, and only said, with bald honesty, “Drugged or not, it wasn’t fair for me to heap that on you. You’ve made your feelings clear, and I fully respect what you told me. The last thing I want is your pity, so please don’t —” Her voice cracked, but she coughed and continued, stronger now, “I just think it’s best if we put it behind us, and move forward as if it never happened.” She took a fortifying breath and finished, repeating some of what Caldon had said earlier that day. “It’s a small ship, and even once we’re on dry land again, we still have to be near each other until this is all over. But I promise that once we have the rings, and Zuleeka and Navok are out of the picture, you’ll get your wish and never have to see me again.”
Kiva staunchly ignored the ache in her heart as she said the words, revealing nothing outwardly, even if she was weeping on the inside. She wouldn’t break down in front of him — she’d already experienced enough humiliation in his presence to last a lifetime.
With her speech done, she waited for his response, part of her wanting to flee before he could speak, but the other part aware that it was time for her to face her problems rather than run from them.
As luck would have it, Tipp chose that moment to bound out of the captain’s quarters, with the rest of their friends following more sedately behind. He skipped right over to Kiva and nestled into her side, looking up at her with worried eyes as he asked, “Are you f-feeling better?”
Emotion flooded her and she drew him closer. “Yeah, buddy. Thanks.”
It was true — and not just about her physical state. She felt lighter now that she’d confronted Jaren, even if he hadn’t had a chance to reply before they’d been interrupted. Perhaps it was better this way, she told herself. They each knew where the other stood, with her having made it clear that she wanted to ignore what had happened and move on. He would respect that; he would probably even appreciate that.
But even so, Kiva still intended to avoid him as much as possible until the day came when they could finally part ways. It was the only way she knew how to protect herself — from him.
With their conversation disrupted as the group pulled Jaren into a discussion about their sleeping arrangements and plans for the next day, Kiva felt no guilt in allowing Caldon to draw her away to train for the next few hours. They could have continued longer, but Cresta finally lost patience and dragged Kiva back to what was apparently their shared cabin. The redhead then proceeded to yell loudly — and at length — before forcing a promise from Kiva that she would never, ever take angeldust again. Only then did Cresta yank her into a rough hug, before flopping onto the second bed, rolling over, and promptly falling asleep.
Having rested for most of the day, Kiva struggled to do the same, remaining awake as the boat rocked beneath her. In an effort not to think about Jaren, she turned her mind to their quest for the rings, considering everything she knew about Sarana Vallentis while unconsciously fiddling with the amulet around her neck, her fingers running over the jewels in the crest. There was something about the Hand of the Gods that had begun to bother her of late, but every time she tried to figure out what it was, it eluded her, like an itch she couldn’t quite scratch. That night was no different, and no matter how hard she sought for clarity, none came. But her attempt helped calm her mind enough that she eventually felt the pull of sleep, and she didn’t resist when it finally claimed her.