I’d been on a few diplomatic trips to meet various leaders, but the trips had been short and we certainly hadn’t frequented any taverns.
I didn’t want to hurt the poor man’s feelings. He was so proud of his song.
“We have our own bards,” Driscoll offered. “Crooning Crow?”
Barty swore. “That’s a good name.”
“Oh yes, I love him,” Leoni said, and I shot her a warning glare. “Sorry.” She scratched her head. “Um, your song was really good too?”
Bartholomew started pacing. “I never even thought about visiting Arathia. I have an entire untapped audience there.”
Driscoll clapped his hands together. “Well, now that we know you’re not going to cut me up into little pieces, maybe we can eat something?”
Bartholomew frowned. “Oh, you missed breakfast, unfortunately. You’ll have to try again at midday.”
Driscoll’s shoulders slumped. “Ugh.”
I studied Bartholomew in curiosity. “Why are you on this ship?” I shook my head. “I don’t understand. You sing songs about the Lost Boys?”
“Aye,” Bartholomew said. “Someone has to document their adventures, and who better than Barty the Bard?”
He broke out into song again.
“Is he going to do this all the time?” Driscoll whispered out the side of his mouth.
“His voice has a pleasant timbre,” Leoni offered.
The door creaked open again, and a woman emerged, this one with cropped brown hair and a heart-shaped face, her bandana a bright yellow. Just like with Kara, I had the distinct feeling I knew her, but I couldn’t figure out why. “Bartholomew, are you singing again? I told you that singing times are strictly after sundown.”
She approached us as Bartholomew trailed off, then shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a little pocket journal and a pen. He started scribbling on it, the ink getting on his fingers. So not blood covering them, then.
The woman cleared her throat. “We have duties, you know.” She shot us a look. “Especially with the extra people we now have on board.”
Bartholomew tsked. “Mia, be nice.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “That was rude. We weren’t expecting your presence is all. It’s a... distraction.”
A distraction. I assumed she was talking about me. I’d wrecked their ship, had their captain arrested, tried to drown him. It had been stupid to think they’d just welcome us aboard.
“I’m Mia,” the woman said, voice slightly less aggressive than before. “And he gets like this sometimes.” She nodded toward Bartholomew, who was once again scribbling in his little journal. “Well, all the time. He gets an idea for a song, and then you’ve lost him. He’s either writing songs or singing them. I don’t know which is worse.”
“Wait a minute.” I pointed at Mia. “You’re Kara.” I shook my head. “I mean, without the tattoos and piercings.”
They had the same face shape, the same eyes, the same nose.
“Yes, we’re twins.” Mia shifted. “What of it?”
“I just...” I couldn’t figure out why they were so familiar to me.
Mia sighed and grabbed Bartholomew’s arm. “Come on, we have work to do. Cap needs you, and you don’t want to make him angry.” She turned to us and her gaze flicked to the necklace hanging down between my breasts, Bastian’s necklace. She frowned. “If you’ll excuse us.”
Despite only coming up to his shoulders, she managed to drag Bartholomew toward the stairs.
“But I wasn’t finished writing,” he whined. “I thought of a new song about a stowaway princess.”
They exited the room, the door slamming behind them.
“She didn’t like you very much.” Driscoll studied his nails.
