“Happy?” Rupert’s voice filtered down.
She tilted her head toward the quarterdeck.
“Perhaps we should do the same,” he said. “Would you like to come up here?”
She grimaced. “Good goddesses, no. I would be too afraid to climb that high.”
“No need to climb. I have a pulley system that will whisk you up here in a few seconds.”
“That sounds even more frightening.”
He smiled. “Not if we did it together. If it scares you, you can hang on to me.”
She scoffed. Next he would be telling her she could wrap her legs around him and squeeze him tight. When he didn’t, she felt almost … disappointed. Blast him. She turned her attention back to swirling the clothes.
“Then I shall come to you.”
Her disappointment vanished. In fact, she felt quite breathless as he swung his legs over the side of the crow’s nest and slid down a rope. He landed neatly and strode toward her, removing his gloves.
She tried not to think about the way his biceps had bulged as he’d controlled his descent of the rope. Or the swagger of his long-legged stride as he approached her. Instead, she focused on the laundry.
She stirred so briskly, some water sloshed over the side of the tub and landed on his boots. “Oh, sorry.”
“No problem.” He reached for the paddle. “Shall I take over for a while?”
“Nay, I’m fine. Did ye have any … shirts ye wanted to add?”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice, “Are you still trying to undress me?”
She snorted and gave him a wry look. “Perhaps someday, someone will invent a machine for this.”
“No doubt, it would take a genius.”
She laughed.
“You doubt me?” He grinned. “Now I will definitely have to invent one.”
“Brigitta!” Sister Fallyn rushed down the steps. “Ye shouldn’t be alone with him.”
“He’s helping us escape my brother,” Brigitta said, coming to his defense. “And there’s no need for you to worry. He’s perfectly harmless.”
“Excuse me?” Rupert growled.
“I know he’s helping, and I appreciate that.” Sister Fallyn slanted Rupert an apologetic look. “I am sorry, young man, but ye must understand that she’s a princess—”
“Sister,” Brigitta objected.
“’Tis true, whether ye like it or not,” Sister Fallyn said.
“I understand.” Rupert gave Brigitta a mocking bow. “Thank the Light I’m too harmless to cause any danger to Your Most Royal Highness.”
Brigitta huffed. “This is ridiculous.”
“I shall console myself tonight under the stars,” Rupert continued as he slipped his gloves back on. “Even though the moons will have separated from their embrace, they will still be almost close enough to touch.” He gave Brigitta a pointed look. “And that will give me hope.”
A shiver ran down her arms. He was asking her to see him tonight, she was sure of it. She inclined her head. “I’m sure it will be lovely.”
His eyes gleamed a golden amber as his mouth curled into a smile. “Indeed.” He strode back toward the mast, grabbed a rope, and with a yank on a lever he shot back up to the crow’s nest.
Tonight. Brigitta smiled to herself. As soon as Sister Fallyn was fast asleep, she would see Rupert again.
* * *
Would she come?
Rupert stood alone at the wheel. He’d dismissed the helmsman, so there would be no one else on the quarterdeck. And he’d ordered the other crewmen on duty to stay toward the bow of the ship. Only the silly pelican remained close by. With most of the sails furled and a minimum breeze, he was advancing the ship very slowly. If she did come, he doubted she would be able to detect their northwestern heading.
His hands gripped the wheel. He would miss her once she was left behind on the island. It won’t be for long, he promised himself. With her safe, he could immediately set the Official Plan into action.
First step, seek out the Tourinian navy and destroy it. Hopefully, he’d be able to crash the ships without losing too many lives. He was, after all, the rightful king, so he didn’t relish the prospect of killing his own countrymen. Only Gunther and his supporters needed to die.
His thoughts returned to Brigitta’s plea that he not kill her brother. Ye’re a man of honor. Dammit. It was a matter of honor that he avenge his family and take back the throne.
But if he killed Gunther, would she be able to love him? Dammit to hell. Why should he care how she felt? Since when did he even want her to love him?
He curled his hands into fists and pounded one against the wheel. Of all the stupid things—he was falling for her. Falling for the daughter of the man who had killed his father and destroyed his family. Falling for a woman who was impossible for him to trust.
She didn’t trust him, either. She refused to confide in him. He gritted his teeth. That had to stop—
“Good evening,” she said softly as she ascended the stairs to the quarterdeck.
He swallowed hard. Why was she so damned beautiful?
“Is something wrong? Ye were frowning something fierce.”
He took a deep breath and spoke to her in Tourinian. “I wasn’t sure you would come.”
“I’m here now,” she answered in the same language. She looked up at the sky and smiled. “The stars are as bright as diamonds tonight. And the moons so full and pretty, side by side.”
Why did he love the way she spoke Tourinian so much? Her voice was soft and almost musical with its island lilt. How sweet she would sound on a dark night as she lay in his arms, her long legs entwined with his. Dammit. Why did he want her so badly? “Why don’t you trust me?”
She blinked and gave him a surprised look.
“I’m taking you to a safe place. I agreed that you should decide your own destiny.” He scowled at her. “You should trust me.”
She shifted her weight. “Trust has to be earned.”
“I could have earned ten thousand gold coins for your ransom, but I gave it up.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I owe you something in return?”
“No!” He gritted his teeth. “Yes, dammit. You should trust me.”
“I’ve known you only three days!”
But he’d known her since she was a babe. “Brigitta, all I want is for you tell me what happens to you when you touch me.” When she opened her mouth, he quickly added, “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You fainted the first time I touched you. You nearly drowned yesterday when I grabbed you in the water. Am I hurting you somehow? Am I poisonous to you?”
“No! You’re not … hurting me.”
“Then tell me, dammit. Because I want to be able to touch you.” He lifted a hand to caress her face, but hesitated an inch away. “I like touching you.”
Her eyes glittered with tears as she stepped back.
Was she going to leave? “Brigitta.” Don’t leave me.
Her eyes met his. There was so much emotion in her eyes and face. A mixture of fear, nervousness, sympathy, and did he dare hope? Desire.
“Why do you say my name as if you know me?” she asked.
He winced inwardly. “There are things I dare not say.”
“Then our distrust is mutual.”
“I trust you enough to show you my face.” He pulled the scarf off his head and tossed it on the deck. “And no one, other than my own crew, is allowed that much. You know enough about me to endanger my life if you ever tell—”
“I would never do that!”
“I believe you.” Rupert gave her a pained look. “I trust you that much. So please, tell me.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “I-I suppose it would be safe. After all, you’re the same way.”
“The same what?”
“But you have to understand, I’ve been warned my entire life not to ever tell anyone. People like us are killed on the mainland, so I—”
“Holy crap. You’
re Embraced?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
He remained stunned for a few seconds. He’d never met anyone before who was Embraced like him, so the idea had never occurred to him.
“Damn.” He ran a hand through his hair as his mind raced. When he’d first met her, that horrific day, it had been winter, and she’d been about three months old. “You were born on the night of the Autumn Embrace?”
“Yes.” She wandered toward the starboard railing to gaze up at the twin moons. “Growing up, I always assumed that my parents had sent me to the Isle of Moon for my own protection. But now I know that my father wanted rid of me. I was a loose end after he…”
Killed my father, Rupert mentally finished her sentence.
“I want nothing to do with my family,” she whispered. “I hate to even think of them as family. They’re monsters, and to think I share their blood…” She shuddered.
“You’re not like them.”
She turned toward him with tears in her eyes. “Thank you.”
The Light help him, he wanted to grab her and hold her tight. He wanted to show her how beautiful she was. He wanted to revel in her sweet innocence and kiss away all her self-doubt.
He joined her at the railing. “What is your gift as one of the Embraced?”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not nearly as exciting or useful as your gift.”
“It causes you to faint whenever a handsome man touches you?”
She snorted. “Are you calling yourself handsome?”
He smiled. “It was you who said it. You said I shouldn’t be hiding my handsome face.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks grew pink.
“So what is your gift?” He leaned close. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
She huffed. “I’ve already seen yours.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. It was very impress—” When he laughed, she gave him an annoyed look. “Are we still talking about gifts?”
“Are we?”
“Are you going to answer everything with a question?”
“Am I?”
She swatted his arm, then grew still, her face pale.
“What?” He grabbed her shoulders. “What happened?”
“I—sometimes, I see things. Images. Sometimes, I just feel emotions.” She regarded him sadly. “I saw you hiding in a cave. So lonesome and afraid. I’m so sorry.”
He released her and stepped back. “What are you—you’re eavesdropping on my mind? Invading my thoughts?”
She winced. “I don’t know what you’re thinking. Though I can guess by the look on your face that you’re not at all pleased.”
He swallowed hard. How much did she know?
“Let me explain,” she quickly added. “My gift enables me to find lost or hidden things. At the convent, it came in very handy whenever a sister would lose or misplace an item. All I had to do was touch her while thinking about the item, and then I would see it in my mind.”
He narrowed his eyes. “So if I say I’ve lost my … hat, you could tell me where it is?”
“I doubt it’s actually lost.”
“Humor me.”
“Fine.” She touched his sleeve. “It’s on the bed in your cabin.”
“Amazing.”
She snorted. “Not really. I only knew it was your bed because I’ve seen your room before. Otherwise, it could be any bed in the world.”
He frowned. “How many beds do you think I’ve been to?”
“I didn’t mean…” Her face flushed. “Let me put it this way. You accidentally drop a coin overboard. I might see a vision of it at the bottom of the sea, but that wouldn’t help you find it. Not when it could be anywhere in the ocean. So you see, it’s not always a very useful gift.”
“But why did you see me in a cave? I didn’t lose anything there.”
She winced. “I don’t just see lost things. I see things that have been hidden. Usually, my reaction is very mild, but with you … well, I’ve never met anyone who is hiding as much as you.”
He stiffened. “You see hidden … memories?”
She nodded. “One time when I was about twelve, I was running to the dining hall for dinner, and I tripped and fell over. Sister Marian helped me up, and I saw her crying and holding a baby who had just passed away. Without thinking, I blurted out how sorry I was that she’d lost her baby. She went deathly pale, then burst into tears and ran back to her room. The next day, she acted normal again, but from then on, whenever she saw me, this pained look would cross her face, and I knew I was causing her to remember her grief, over and over again.”
“That’s a sad story,” Rupert murmured.
Brigitta nodded. “Sister Marian had never told anyone at the convent her secret, because she’d wanted to escape the painful memory and make a new life for herself, but I messed it up for her. That’s when I realized that people don’t always keep secrets because they’re being dishonest or deceitful. Sometimes we push memories into a dark hole because they’re too painful to live with day after day. Sometimes we have to keep secrets just to survive.”
A chill ran down Rupert’s back. Had she been seeing his secrets?
Brigitta sighed. “After that, I had my own secret. I didn’t tell anyone I could see their hidden memories. After all, it doesn’t help anyone. It only makes them uncomfortable. If people are desperate enough to keep a secret, then they don’t want it to be exposed.”
He gripped the railing hard. “So every time we touched, you saw something?”
She nodded. “But I would never tell any—”
“What did you see?”
She winced. “An ambush. A battle. A dark basement. The crypt where your mother is interred. A—”
“Enough.” He stepped back. She knew way too much.
“I could feel your emotions, too.” She turned toward him with tears in her eyes. “So much grief and despair. My heart ached—”
“Enough!” He retreated another step, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m not that child anymore.”
“I think you are.”
“No!” He gritted his teeth. “You should go now.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I shouldn’t have told you. I’m sorry.” She wandered toward the stairs.
When she glanced back, a tear was rolling down her check, and he felt like a complete ass.
“Your secrets are safe with me,” she whispered, then hurried down the stairs.
Crap! He wanted to pummel something. He wanted to beat something till his knuckles were bloody and raw. She knew too much. And if they kept touching each other, she would know even more. Dammit. No matter how much he longed for her, he couldn’t touch her again.
Chapter Fifteen
He was avoiding her.
Brigitta paced about the cabin. She should have known this would happen. After she’d blurted out Sister Marian’s secret, the nun had been careful to avoid her.
Why had she thought Rupert would be different? Even though he was attracted to her, that didn’t mean he wanted to share his secrets. She’d learned from her visions that he’d spent years of his life hiding in dark places, afraid of being captured. He’d been forced to keep his identity secret in order to survive. So it only made sense that he wouldn’t want her to discover who he really was.
Unfortunately, her curiosity refused to quit. She was even more compelled to figure him out. Who was this sorcerer who monopolized her thoughts and made her heart squeeze with longing? How could she gain his trust? How could she convince him that his secrets were safe with her?
A whole day had passed, and she’d seen him only once. After the midday meal, she and Sister Fallyn had ventured out on deck for some fresh air. While the nun had chatted with Stefan, Brigitta had approached the crow’s nest where Rupert was standing.
“Good afternoon,” she’d said softly, knowing he would be able to hear her if he wanted to.
No reply.
“I could meet you tonight
under the stars,” she’d suggested. Silence had stretched out while she’d grown increasingly tense.
His whisper had finally filtered down. “Not tonight.” Then he’d grabbed a rope and swung through the air to the next mast, where he’d dropped a few feet to land neatly on a yardarm. After grasping another rope, he’d swooped down toward the bow of the ship, disappearing from her view.
Normally, such athletic feats would have made her breathless, but she’d been too mortified to appreciate it.
He was avoiding her. She should have known not to tell him the truth.
But she’d wanted to be close to him. She’d wanted to forge a bond with him where they could share their secrets, thoughts, and burdens. She’d wanted to be special to him.
It hurt. Blast him. His rejection hurt. And that could only mean she truly cared for him.
She’d fallen for him.
Now she was back in their cabin, pacing about. How on Aerthlan had she fallen for a man when she didn’t even know who he was?
But she knew his heart. She knew he was good and honorable, responsible and clever, strong and handsome. She knew his pain and heartache. His grief and fear. She’d felt his desire for her. His yearning.
Hadn’t she? Good goddesses, had she just imagined his desire out of wishful thinking?
“Will ye sit down for a minute?” Sister Fallyn fussed. “Ye’re going to wear holes into yer slippers.”
With a groan, Brigitta collapsed in a chair. “Aye. We could be stuck on that island for years, so I may never have another pair of slippers.”
Sister Fallyn scoffed. “Why are ye being so negative? ’Tis not like you.”
Brigitta shrugged. How could she gain his trust if he refused to see her?
“Stefan has told me all about the island,” Sister Fallyn continued. “They’re growing oats and barley. And raising sheep. They even have a few milk cows. And he said we could use his cottage. I think it will be quite lovely.”
Brigitta nodded.
“And Stefan said they’ll come to visit every month or so and bring us whatever we need. So if ye need new slippers, ye’ll only have to ask.”
Brigitta sighed. “Ye don’t think it’s cowardly of me to hide?”
Sister Fallyn scoffed. “Would ye rather have yer brother condemning you to a life of abuse?”
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