“I wish we could head to shore now,” she said, yearning for the icy forests of her homeland. She had forgotten how much she missed them.
That first night, Vreis had sat her down at a rickety wooden table below deck with an ancient map stretched out between them. He had explained their strategy for getting her home. Sail east, then north, and then even further north. They would not stop at the villages along the eastern edge of the Hoarfrost Forest. Too close to the Bay of Wind, Vreis had said. Eislyn was inclined to agree with him, as desperate as she was to reach Falias.
The next closest stop would have been the town of Deigh. But the cursed place had been destroyed by the Ruin five years past. No one lived there any longer, and they needed food and supplies when they landed. That left Margaidh far up north. Lord Killian lived there, old friends with her father. From there, it would be a long trek to Falias, but they could get an owl off to Father when they arrived and fill him in on what was happening at the Air Court.
And it would give her a chance to peruse the eastern markets again. Perhaps she could find another book to help her with her quest to end the Ruin.
“The Grand Alderman likely has ships waiting on the coast,” Vreis said. “We would be ambushed.”
She sighed. “I know. It doesn’t stop me from wishing.”
Vreis smiled. “You seem more at ease now, Your Highness. I’m glad to see.”
“You know you don’t need to call me that. You may call me Eislyn.” Ever the honorable warrior and guard, Vreis had not once uttered her name since they had stepped on board.
He arched a brow. “I don’t know any such thing. Most courtiers insist upon their titles, particularly princesses, kings, and queens.”
“You spent all of your money to get me out of that city so that I wouldn’t end up like the Imogen Selkirk.” She sucked in a lungful of brine-clogged air. “You don’t need to use my title, Vreis. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”
“Very well then,” he said with a smile. “If you insist, Eislyn. But only when we aren’t in the presence of royals. We wouldn’t want them to believe you’d become too friendly with a mere warrior.”
She felt herself flush as she caught the implication. Only husbands, wives, sons, and daughters were permitted to drop titles at court. Family. Those bound by blood and vows and flesh. If Vreis were to drop her title in front of a lord or lady, some would think them lovers, ruining any chance she had at truly marrying Thane.
A High Queen could not be blemished. That included sex.
Eislyn cleared her throat, suddenly unable to find any words at all. As she turned her gaze to the horizon, a heavy darkness rolled across the crystal sea, blotting out the blazing sun.
“Storm’s a coming,” Aisten, the captain of the ship, shouted as he scurried toward them, flapping his shimmering arms. “You two best get below decks. I don’t fancy fishing a princess out of that there sea.”
Eislyn’s stomach flipped with fear. Their journey thus far had been nothing but pleasant. The waters were calm; the skies were clear and blue. It had lulled her into a false sense of security, it seemed. Eislyn hadn’t imagined what could happen if there was a storm.
They could all die.
“No need to be frightened, Your Highness. Er, sorry. Eislyn.” Vreis wrapped a strong hand around her elbow and ushered her toward the stairwell that led deep into the belly of the ship. “This crew has sailed through many a storm, and we’ll be safe down below.”
“All right,” Eislyn said, doing her best to appear steadied and calm, like her sisters would. They would not show fear, not when faced with something as simple as a storm. But storms made Eislyn think of something she wished she could forget. The ash in the sky. The falling flecks of black. Her mother’s scream as she died.
Eislyn shuddered and followed Vreis down the creaking steps. He led her to the cabins where a small, dark room held about half a dozen tables. Large barrels were stacked in the corner, and shadows bounced through the room from teal orbs that hung from the curving walls. It stank in here, Eislyn could not help but notice. Like stale mead, sweat, and grime.
They settled into a pair of wooden chairs just as distant thunder crackled through the skies. It was so loud, Eislyn clamped her hands over her ears. If it was that loud below decks, she could not begin to imagine what it had sounded like up there.
“Here, let’s play a game to pass the time.” A glass bottle landed heavily on the circular table between them. It was quickly followed by two mugs. “You guess something about me. If you’re right, I drink. If you’re wrong, then you drink.”
Eislyn couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that truly wise? We’re on a bouncing ship in the middle of a storm. We’ll both end up nauseated.”
“Those are rumors and nothing more.” He shot her a devilish grin. “Fae do not get nauseated on ships. Only humans do.”
She arched a brow, trying on a slight smile. “All right then. So, all I have to do is guess something about you, and you have to drink.”
He gave a nod, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into his chair.
Eislyn regarded him carefully. She knew his face well, but she had never really looked at him before now. Not like this, considering every detail, noting every piece that made Vreis who he was. He was tall, even for a fae. In fact, there was nothing slight about him. His arms were corded with muscle, and Eislyn could tell he had a full chest beneath his leather armor. His hair was a light brown not often seen in the Air Court. He had the coloring of something else with his bronze skin, and an eye that was deeper than golden. And it crinkled in the corners when he smiled.
“You can trace some of your ancestors back to the fire lands,” Eislyn said, feeling confident in her choice. He did not have flaming red hair, but he did have something about him that felt like fire.
Vreis’s smile widened. “An obvious attempt, and a correct one. My great-grandmother was a fire fae.” He lifted his mug to his lips and drank deeply. “Now, it’s my turn. I’ll guess something about you, Eislyn.”
A little flutter went through her belly as his eyes roamed across her skin. It felt as if his gaze dug deep, revealing the darkest truths about her. She could feel his eyes flick to her wrists, back up to her face, and then...lower. Was this how he’d felt beneath her own gaze? There was a strange intimacy to it, one that made her flush. What would he say? What kind of truth would he reveal? She was almost scared to find out.
“You miss your sister,” he said simply.
She snorted a laugh. “And you said mine was obvious.” Shaking her head, she took the drink. It burned all the way down, and then her belly turned as hot as coals.
“Alright then,” he said smiling. “Let’s make it harder this time. Nothing obvious. Nothing that we know is true. Real guesses now.”
Eislyn shifted on her seat, and the wood creaked beneath her. What could she guess about Vreis? Something that might be true. Something that wasn’t obvious. She glanced at his hands. They looked strong. Some of the skin on his palm looked rough. He clearly used them to great effect in his role as a guard.
But that was obvious.
Her eyes drifted to his leather armor. He’d donned a well-fitting tunic that stretched tight across his strong chest. There was no sigil on it. No splash of gold. She flicked up her gaze to meet his eyes. He was watching her just as intently as she watched him.