Fuck.
What was wrong with him? The Bastian I knew was fierce, ready to fight anyone and anything standing in his way, had a sharp word always ready at the tip of his tongue. It would almost make me feel better if he tried to fight me. Tried to do something other than just stand there.
I sighed. I couldn’t worry about him. I didn’t want to worry about him.
The crowd pushed against my guards, all of them with their water magic swirling, creating a barrier, ready to stop anyone who dared come too close to their princess. They could only hold the people for so long, though. Their magic wouldn’t last forever, and they’d soon deplete their stores of it. I had to fix this.
“Kill him!” a young woman screamed from the middle of the crowd, a human. “He and his pirates raided our town, stole many of our goods. Kill him for his crimes!”
“We will take him back to the castle and let the queen decide his fate,” I said firmly, my voice carrying over the cries for his head.
The man with the red hair crossed his arms. “None of us are leaving until we see that justice has been served and you explain what in the spirits below is going on.”
Everyone nodded in agreement behind him.
Perfect. Just perfect.
We arrived backat the castle, Bastian in tow. The entire walk had been a blur. I kept my distance from him, but he could barely walk, the guards dragging him most of the way up the steep stairs. His head lolled. The queen might not even have to order his execution. He seemed nearly dead already.
I swallowed back any feelings that thought brought up, reminding myself of his betrayal.
Our castle sat at the top of the rocky hill, on a cliffside that jutted over the water. It gleamed white under blue skies. It was beautiful, from its intricate statues of mermaids that framed all the balconies to its golden peaks at the highest points to the stained-glass windows that glimmered like sea glass under the sun. Most would kill to call this their home, yet here I’d been, trying to run away from it. I didn’t think the shame would ever leave me.
The guards kicked open the huge wooden doors and yanked Bastian across the threshold and toward the golden doors of the throne room. His black boots scraped along the white marble floors, making me wince.
The crowd marched behind us, silent now, no doubt eager for whatever punishment the queen would dole out. We needed their trust, needed them to understand that Apolis was strong. If anyone could make them believe that was true, it would be my mother. My mother at her best, which she hadn’t been in a long, long time.
The throne room was empty, my mother still resting in her room. I’d have to send for a servant to fetch her. Hopefullyshe was awake by now, regaining her strength. My mother was strong, but even the strongest of women could only handle so much. She’d just heard her husband might be alive, returned to her, and now she was going to find out all over again he was gone. That instead of his ship delivering him back to Apolis, it had brought the pirate lord, whom she detested. Like most of Arathia.
We marched past the tall white columns of the throne room that stretched to the ceiling, where blue waves were painted.
Bastian was infamous across all the courts of Arathia, known for selling dangerous items on the black market, for stealing and looting and terrorizing anyone who dared to cross the Dark Seas.
He was also far too charming, gorgeous, quick witted, brave... At least, I thought he had been, until I learned of the truth about what he’d done—and it was so much worse than stealing some dangerous items.
His wavy black hair curled around his ears, head bobbing as the guards threw him onto the steps of the dais, and he landed with a sickening thud in front of the throne.
He rolled onto his back, eyes barely open. He groaned and propped himself up, his black leather pants and black boots smudged with dirt and sand. He lifted a hand to stroke his bearded jaw, his black eyebrows bunching in confusion as his gaze met mine.
“Well, hello, love,” he slurred in that deep accent that I loved. “It’s been a while.”
I froze. I had no idea what was wrong with him, but he was clearly out of it, and I needed to shut him up.
“Do not speak to me like that,” I said, stepping forward. “I am the princess of Apolis, and you will address me as such, or you’ll lose your tongue.”
Bastian chuckled darkly. “You won’t cut out my tongue, not when you know firsthand all the things I can do with it.”
Leoni stood next to me, her hand hovering over her sword. The crowd was silent behind us, drinking in our exchange.
“Did he just...” Leoni trailed off, at a loss for words for the first time in her life.
He did not just say that. He did not just remind me—and everyone in this room—of all the places his tongue had been on my body. All the ways he’d made me beg for that tongue. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
No one spoke. No one moved.
“Shut up,” I whispered out the side of my mouth, a smile plastered to my face as I nodded back at the crowd in reassurance.
He gave a lazy smile, eyes glazed over. “Oh, so you want to play hard to get? You do know I like a good chase.” He winked.
