The Fractured Empire (The World Apart Series Book 1)

by Robin D. Mahle

  Despite what I had said about needing rest, I wasn't sure we were getting any like this. It was silent but for the lapping of waves against the boat and the stilted sounds of our breathing.

  We were close enough to the frigid climate of Alpina Island that we actually needed the sole blanket on the bed. I had started to get used to the presence of the heavy necklace, but right now the metal was only making me colder. Eventually, though, exhaustion beat out my subtle shivers and the remnants of my humiliation that were keeping me awake. Bracing myself against the dreams I was sure to have after bringing up the explosion, I finally fell asleep.

  I was so comfortable. And warm, but in a good way. Usually heat was a suffocating presence, one more thing to pull me away from my snowy Alpina Island memories and trap me in my lonely Ceithren life. But this was like the crackling warmth of a fire. I settled closer to the source, too sleepy to wonder why it was rock hard when I had fallen asleep on a fluffy pillow. Then, it started to move.

  My eyes snapped open with awareness. Every inch of me was plastered against Clark. My head was nestled in between his chest and his arm, which was wrapped around me. My leg was entangled with his and even my feet were against his calves.

  Oh, no.

  Because last night hadn't been embarrassing enough for me, now he could wake up and find me glued to his side. I needed to extricate myself before that could happen.

  I started slowly, softly moving away from him. When my head had enough distance to glance up, I sneaked a peek at his face. He was awake and alert.

  Merde. I moved away more quickly, no longer needing to worry about jostling him. A hundred responses sprinted through my mind before I settled on the coward's way out.

  Pretend it never happened.

  "I'm going to make us some breakfast."

  "I'll make the coffee," he responded quickly, a slight smirk on his lips.

  We both popped up and moved for the kitchen. There were a few awkward run-ins in the tiny space, but we managed to get through the exchange. Neither of us touched or acknowledged the bottle of whiskey.

  I sat down on the couch to eat, and a small crank between the white leather and the bar caught my attention. A memory came to me of Perry, Nell, and me embarking on a day trip. We had over-imbibed on a nearby island and opted to stay the night on the yacht rather than head back. Perry and I were usually happy to share a bed, if only platonically, but that time, there had been three of us. Perry had shown me how to pull the couch into a single bed and had taken the less comfortable space like the gentleman he had always been.

  Why didn’t I remember this last night? What does that say about me?

  I hadn’t consciously wanted Clark in my bed, but I supposed I hadn’t wanted to be alone either. Now I had to decide whether to reveal the information for the trip back and have Clark think I had manipulated him into sharing a bed with me on the way here, or keep it to myself and be guilty of actually manipulating him on the way home.

  I can think about that later. I need to focus on Alpina Island right now.

  "Shall we talk about a plan once we get there?" I asked Clark in my politest voice.

  "Sure. We get there, talk to Langston, head back to the boat." He tried for a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  "Thanks. That was ever so helpful." I knew he wasn't really the planning kind, but I was going to go crazy here on this boat with no idea what to expect. To be fair, though, I wasn't exactly being forthcoming with my own information. I probably knew more about what was coming up than he did, but after last night, I didn't feel like sharing any more about my past or why I knew Alpina Island so well.

  The grating scrape of his fork against his plate and my coffee cup being placed back down on the table were the only sounds in the otherwise-charged silence.

  "So, you seem pretty familiar with this cozy little boat. What's going on with you and the prince?" Clark blurted out of nowhere. Something in his face and slightly-reddening cheeks told me he hadn't meant to ask that.

  Is that why he stopped us?

  "We used to be good friends." Truth, if not the whole truth.

  "What happened?"

  "I don't really know. People drift apart, I guess. We're still friends, just not as close." Or closer, depending on how you looked at it. I was lying when I said I didn't know what had happened, though. It was easier to see in retrospect that I had deliberately distanced myself, unwilling to let one person have too much of me.

  After we had taken things as far as we had, I hadn't known how to go back. So I had eased off of our friendship. Having that kind of a relationship with him and also a close friendship had felt too much like what everyone wanted from us. We still spent time together, but gone were the late night conversations and reminiscences of my family. If he had noticed my distance, he had never commented.

  Our relationship was comfortable. I didn't bare my soul, but I didn't have to hide, either. There was no jealousy, no insecurity. He had his dalliances, and I had dated other people intermittently, but we were always respectful to one another.

  It was easy enough, and I supposed that's why I had eventually agreed to the engagement. Shame pooled in my stomach at that word.

  Engagement… it was never official, right? Perry and I didn’t even talk about it.

  I had always abhorred cheating.

  But that's not what last night was. Was it?

  I certainly wasn't expecting chastity from Perry.

  With Alpina Island looming closer, I didn't have the emotional energy to expend on those meanderings. I decided to let it go. It hardly mattered now, anyway, when it was clear Clark wanted nothing to do with me. Even if he had, last night was only ever going to be an evening of convenience. So really, none of it mattered.

  That’s settled, then.

  Clark and I finished up our meal in silence before heading to the main deck. We had woken early enough that we didn't lose any time. Now we just had to get through the next couple of hours before we could dock at Alpina Island. That wouldn't have been too difficult, except that there was no trace of a breeze. Anywhere.

  Double merde.

  We were in for a long day.

  The Renegade

  Women hadn't been in short supply on the outer islands, but they tended to open conversation by asking about my scar. That wasn't something I talked about. Ever. My abrupt shutdowns hadn't won me many fans. My clear avoidance of relationships had gotten me even fewer.

  Still, there were the persistent ones, and I wasn't completely without companionship in those three years. Even the ever-focused and uptight Xavier and incurably-shy Gunther had been late coming back to our shared room more than once. We were soldiers, not monks.

  Father had taught us not to make promises we couldn't keep, though. Our lives weren't our own, and our futures were uncertain at best. We never took things farther, never committed, and I was sure I wasn't the only one who could say I had never had feelings that went beyond simple lust. I wasn't sure I ever would.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Clark

  Of all the cursed luck. We were near enough to the Tempest Sea that the wind dying down was a once in a season event, and we'd apparently hit the jackpot. It would be physically impossible to avoid each other on this boat all day. At least when we got to Alpina Island, we'd have a mission to distract us.

  The last thing I had wanted to do was make things more awkward with Addie, but she had been shivering last night in her sleep. So I pulled her to my chest until the shivers died down with every intention of moving away from her before the morning hit. Then I had fallen into a rare, dreamless sleep, and by the time I woke up, she was stirring also.

  Addie stood at the railing for close to an hour, like she was willing the wind to come. She had changed into fitted black leather pants and put her knee-high boots back on. Before she threw her long, flaring coat on over it, I caught a glimpse of just how fitted the pants were.

  Merde.

  We were unfailingly pol
ite to each other all morning, and I found myself missing the banter from yesterday. At least that had been real. I had examined her face for any hint of her feelings about last night, but the inscrutable, haughty mask was firmly back in place.

  Not for the first time, I wondered what had possessed me to kiss her. Watching her traverse the deck in heels with a stubborn tilt of her chin as she stared into the distance, I didn't wonder long.

  I sighed. This is going to be a long day.

  After an hour, she disappeared below deck. My shoulders sagged in my leather coat, grateful for a few minutes of not walking on eggshells. She came back up looking a little livelier than she had all morning. Her face was once again made up, but this time I didn't comment. Things were tense enough. She was carrying snacks and a small wooden box. With a gesture for me to follow, she headed for the table.

  "Do you play?" she asked, setting the intricately carved box on the table and opening it. It was a deck of cards.

  I grinned for the first time that day. "Of course. Jack and Ship?" I asked, referring to a fairly simple game played among the high brow. It would still be preferable to spending the remainder of the day in awkward silence.

  “Sure, if you like.” Her face gave away nothing, but something in her tone was mocking. “I was thinking Pandemonium, but if Jack and Ship is more suitable to your delicate sensibilities, by all means.” The edges of her lips tilted up a fraction.

  I forced my gaze away from her mouth as my grin widened. She was a constant surprise. Pandemonium was a much more complex game, involving an intricate set of rules and no small amount of bluffing.

  All right, then.

  I held out my hand in a gentleman’s offer to deal. Addie quirked an eyebrow while she expertly shuffled, ignoring my outstretched hand until I retracted it. She dealt out eight cards to each of us, set aside five in the reaper’s pile, and placed the rest in the center. Then, she sat back and waited for me to make the first move, intentionally giving me the advantage of first lead.

  I chuckled at her challenging expression and made a bland opening play, testing her. She quirked an eyebrow and made her own mediocre play, gloved hand gracefully laying down a meaningless card atop my own.

  Now she’s definitely mocking me.

  My blood rushed at the challenge she invited, and I knew it was time to get serious. Every play I made, she expertly countered. I would gain an advantage, and she would take it back. Addie claimed victory on the first round. Her face glowed with triumph behind her careful mask.

  “Again?” I asked.

  She had won this round, but I had spent the last hour scrutinizing her face for her tells. Though she was accomplished at keeping her haughty expression intact, I began to notice small hints here and there: the slight widening of her eyes when she drew the card she wanted, the tiny irritable twitch of her lips when my play disrupted her plan, and the fleeting clench of her jaw when I gained the advantage. They were as clear to me now as if she were broadcasting her thoughts on the radio.

  That’s how I read the victory on her face so clearly now. I was almost sad to see the expression go, but there was no part of me prepared to let her walk away from this without a proper challenge.

  She agreed to a rematch without hesitation, and this time I grabbed the deck to deal before she could. Though it was customary that the winner cedes the advantage, I insisted she take the first move. She didn’t argue, likely because her initial win had been enough for her pride to allow a first lead the second time around.

  Our second game ended more quickly than the first. I laid my winning card down less than halfway into the match. Addie took it well, considering the displays of her temper I'd been witness to so far. I was going to suggest a tie-breaker game, but her gently blowing hair caught my attention. A breeze.

  Did we not notice the wind picking up?

  “It looks like we can get moving now,” I told her, nodding to her moving strands.

  She followed my gaze. “So it does. I’ll put the cards away. You can pull up the anchor.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I saluted her, amusement etching its way across my features.

  “I prefer Captain, actually.” She almost smiled that time.

  I shook my head and went to pull the anchor up. We hadn't lost too much time. We were approaching the island by fourteen hundred hours.

  Addie went below to don her scarf and hat. We could only hope the customary privacy afforded to the royals would keep her from being recognized before we got to Langston's house.

  "Look through the maps while you're down there," I called to her. "There should be one of Alpina Island. Then we can see which harbor we need to dock at."

  She popped back up, fully-dressed but with no map.

  "No luck?" I asked.

  "No need," she responded. "I remember the address. We need to go to Paloma Harbor to the South. There should be a spot reserved for royal docking, which will cut down on the chances of my being seen."

  She sounded confident, and I realized she had probably been here with the prince before. She knew her way around the yacht that had exactly one bed, and she had been changing her clothes in front of him.

  "What?" she asked.

  I was confused until I realized I'd been scowling. "Nothing. Sun in my eyes." It was an obvious lie. I resisted the urge to glance at the cloudy sky.

  She leveled a look my way but didn't push the issue. Her own face had gotten steadily darker, the closer we had come to the island.

  Not that I would ever tell him, but my brother hadn't been wrong when he had gotten onto me for being distracted. Last night had only made that more obvious, and right now, I needed to focus.

  Langston might be the only person alive who could answer questions about the cylinder Trauman had given me, my only link to finding out what really happened the day of the explosion.

  On top of that, it was looking more and more like Addie's life depended on getting this necklace off. Somewhere at the bottom of my list was getting the necklace to the MOHP. I may have been under contract with them, but one failed mission wouldn't cost me my life. I had exactly zero concern for their ambitions.

  I had only brought my leather jacket, not as prepared for the climate as she had been, but we found an extra set of gloves below deck. I didn't want to wear them, knowing who they belonged to, but even I wasn't so stubborn as to get frostbite for my dislike of a man. I put my dagger in its customary place at my lower back and fastened the sheath for my pilfered sword at my hip.

  Addie took one look at me and shook her head. "You cannot walk through Alpina Island with a sword."

  "What? Everyone has swords on the outer islands. It’s legal out here. I don’t set foot on them without one."

  "You do now. Alpina Island is a peaceful place, and you'll draw unnecessary attention. Everyone loves the Alpinan King, and he never resorts to violence to keep the people in line. Put it away." The way she stood with her hands on her hips and a fierce expression on her rosy cheeks, I was almost as attracted as I was irritated.

  Damn her.

  With a final grumble, I reluctantly removed the sword she could see, but I kept my dagger and the compact sword down my back. She could pry those from my cold, dead fingers.

  We found the private dock, and it was an easy matter to tie off the yacht and be on our way. Addie led us, clearly familiar with the streets. She had informed me in her usual know-it-all tone that the walk would take less than ten minutes.

  Two minutes in, it started to snow. I sighed and tugged my scarf closer, but Addie looked delighted. She looked at my face, and it seemed to make her happier to see me so disgruntled. A rare laugh bubbled out of her lips, and she even skipped a little, not seeming to mind when the large flakes settled in the ends of her hair and long eyelashes.

  She beamed at me, a genuine smile. "I've missed this," she said. Her face fell for a moment before going blank.

  I was starting to realize she did this whenever she thought of something that upset her,
but I wasn't sure what on Alpina Island could have that effect on her.

  We passed a few shops, but no Peace Keepers. Alpina Island was known to be tiny and peaceful. It typically needed little intervention from Ceithre Central. Every outlying island had a king who was allowed to rule with a relative degree of autonomy as long as the taxes were paid and there were no uprisings. The king here was apparently a good one.

  It was, therefore, incredibly unlikely the local forces had been alerted to look for Adelaide. Or so she had told me when she refused to cover her face.

  A few more minutes into our walk, we passed a tiny shop with a chalkboard sign advertising Ceithre's Best Hot Chocolate. Addie stopped and stared. She looked wistfully in the window, then continued walking. Then she stopped again.

  "We can go in," I offered. Though I was anxious to get answers to my questions, it was hard to feel any real sense of urgency in this quaint mountain village. Besides, I wanted to see her smile come back.

  "It's fine," she said, her eyes uncertain. She took another step forward, and I made to follow when a voice stopped us.

  "Addie?"

  I whirled around, tense, but Addie put a placating hand on my arm. Standing at the doorway of the cafe was a plump middle-aged woman, her hair tightly coiffed and her simple buttoned dress immaculate. Addie nodded, and the woman's wide eyes brimmed with tears. She opened her arms for a hug but seemed to think better of it at Addie's guarded expression.

  "Come in, love," she ordered in a thick accent, elongating the vowels in every word. She moved aside for us to enter. Addie hesitated again. Just as she looked like she was about to refuse, the woman spoke again.

  "Now, now, none of that. Whatever you have going on, Dearie, there's always time for hot chocolate. And that young man of yours looks half frozen. Not from around here, are you, my boy?" She rolled her R's thickly like most villagers from the easternmost islands.

  "No, ma'am," I answered.

  She nodded, and Addie gaped at me, likely conveying surprise at my manners. I gave her a rakish grin in response. These silent conversations had become second nature in the short time we were together.