But he wouldn’t. Lara knew that for certain because her father would never concede defeat.
“As it is, storm season will help by chasing the Valcottan’s back to their harbors. Vencia’s harbor is the closest of any to Southwatch, and your people will capitalize on the short breaks in the storms. Impossible as it is to believe, the storm season is better for your countrymen than the calm. Food will arrive on Maridrina’s shores.”
Aren wouldn’t lie to her—Lara believed that. She trusted him. Even if it killed her to do nothing.
He was quiet for a long time, then he said, “But there are two sides to this, Lara. Very few Ithicanians have ever left our shores. Very few of them have ever met a Maridrinian. The result is that they believe your father is the sum of your people. I need you to help me change that. I need you to make them see that Maridrinians are not our enemies. To make them want more than just an alliance of paper and words between kings, but an alliance between our people. Because that’s the only way we’ll ever find peace.”
“I don’t see how that can happen while he lives.”
“He won’t live forever.”
Lara exhaled a long breath. “But my brother, as you say, is just like him. He’ll take advantage of the utopia you envision.”
“I don’t envision a utopia, Lara. Just something better.” He kissed her shoulder, his lips warm. “It’s past time we stopped allowing our enemies to dictate our lives and start living them for those we love. And for ourselves.”
“A dream.”
“Then make it reality.” Reaching into his trouser pockets, he extracted a small silken pouch. “I have something for you.”
Lara’s head turned, her eyes widening as he extracted the delicate links of gold, emeralds and black diamonds flashing in the light. “You mentioned a fondness for green.”
Carefully, he brushed her hair to one side and fastened the necklace around her neck. “It was my mother’s. My father had it made for her years ago, and she almost never took it off. The servants found it in their rooms after—” He broke off, shaking his head to clear the emotion. “She always said it was meant to be worn.”
Lara trailed one finger down the gold and jewels, then pulled it away, her hand balling into a fist. “I can’t take this. Ahnna should have it.”
“Ahnna hates jewelry. And besides, you’re Queen of Ithicana. You’re the one who should wear it.”
Taking her hands in his, Aren turned her toward the large mirror on the wall and pressed the fingers of her hand against the large black diamond resting at the center of her collarbone, her pulse throbbing beneath. “Northwatch.” Then he moved down the necklace, naming the larger islands as he went.
“Serrith.” He paused there, kissing her shoulder, grazing his teeth against her neck, feeling her body hitch, then press against him, her head falling back against his shoulder. “Midwatch.” Their fingers trailed over the slope of her right breast, pausing on a large emerald. He made a humming noise of consideration, then continued down the jeweled map, stopping at Southwatch, the emerald nestled in her cleavage.
“It’s yours,” he murmured into her ear. “Ithicana. Everything that I have is yours. To protect. To make better.”
“I will,” she whispered. “I promise.” Turning, Lara rested her forehead against his chest, focusing on the feel of his hands. On the sound of his heart.
Then he went still. “Listen.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly. The storm has passed. Which means it will have ended south of here, so the Vencia ferrymen will already be on the water heading to Southwatch.”
So strange that she had to put her faith in the Tempest Seas, which she feared more than anything else, to protect both her peoples. Slowly, the tension seeped out of her. “Since it’s safe to go outside, I find myself fancying a proper bath.”
“Your wish is my command, Your Majesty,” he growled into her ear, flipping her over his shoulder and heading to the door. In the hallway, they encountered Eli, who bore a stuffed satchel on one shoulder.
“I’m doing a run to the barracks, Your Graces. Any messages you wish to relay?”
Aren hesitated. “Yes. Tell Jor I want to see him. After lunch.” He patted Lara meaningfully on the ass, laughing when she kneed him in the chest. “But for now, I need a bath.”
Several hours later, they were finishing a meal of grilled fish and citrus sauce when the door to the house slammed open.
Heedless of his mud-splattered boots, Jor tromped into the dining room and took a seat across from them. “Majesties.” His twinkling eyes moved back and forth between Lara and Aren as he snaked a cake from the tray. “How nice to see the two of you finally playing nice.”
Lara’s cheeks warmed, and she took a mouthful of fruit juice, hoping the glass would hide her embarrassment.
“And all it took to earn your affection was the poor boy jumping into shark-infested waters to save your ass.” He sighed dramatically. “I’m not sure I’m up for such acts of heroism. I suppose I’ll have to put aside the dream of taking you on when Aren gets himself killed with one of his stupid stunts.”
“Piss off, Jor.”
Lara only smiled. “Fortunately for you, I have a soft spot for elderly men.”
“Elderly?” Bits of cake flew from the guard’s mouth. “I’ll have you know, little miss, that I’m . . .”
“Enough, enough.” Aren filled the cup in front of Jor. “That’s not why you’re here.”
“Yes, do tell me why I had to drag my elderly ass up the hill to visit you two lovebirds.”
Lara turned in her chair to eye Aren, curious.
“How do the skies look?” he asked.
“Stick your head out the door and see for yourself.”
“Jor.”
“Clear.” The guard chewed slowly on another cake, brow furrowed with suspicion. “Why?”
Aren’s hand closed over Lara’s, his thumb tracing a circle against her palm. “Tell everyone to pack their things and ready the boats. I think it’s time we went home.”
35
Lara
Home.
To Lara, Midwatch was home, with its quiet serenity. But there was no mistaking the excitement on the faces of the guards as they tied their packs and loads of provision into a trio of boats, nearly tripping over each other in their haste. Wherever they were going was home for them, too, and the flurry of activity only bolstered Lara’s curiosity. There were no civilizations of size in Ithicana, nothing bigger than a fishing village, and the Maridrinian in her struggled to believe that the King of the Bridge Kingdom would call one of those home.
“Where are we going?” she asked Aren for the hundredth time.
He only gave her an amused smile and tossed her bag of possessions into the canoe. “You’ll see.”
She’d barely been allowed to take anything, only a set of her Ithicanian clothes, a selection of undergarments, and, at Aren’s request, one of her silk Maridrinian dresses, though of what use that would be in a fishing village, she didn’t know.