“Aye, Miss Marigold,” Ebba said. “My fathers stole me from the chief and chieftess when I were naught but a baby.”
Marigold threw a look at Barrels, who confirmed Ebba’s statement with a small shrug.
“I were steamin’ mad at them for a while,” Ebba added. “They didn’t tell me anythin’ about it, ye see.”
“Oh, you poor child,” Barrels’ sister said, taking one of Ebba’s hands.
Ebba smiled sadly.
“But you will still wear a dress while you’re on Exosia,” Marigold added, arching a brow.
Her smile slipped away. This one was wilier than anticipated. “Nay.”
“Yes.”
“Nay.”
“Yes.”
Through the open entrance of the lounge, she watched as the front doors burst open. Locks stormed into the circular lobby, Verity clutched in his arms. Ebba and her fathers stood as Locks caught sight of them and altered his course. He was dressed fancy-like, too.
“Found her right across town. Ye were right. She was in one of the hospitals.”
Verity’s blonde hair fanned out over the couch cushions as Locks lowered her. Whoever had cared for her in the day’s interim had done a good job. The soothsayer was clean and in fresh garments, and her cheeks looked to have more color.
Her eyelashes fluttered open, and Locks dropped to his knees.
“Verity,” he whispered.
Her periwinkle blue eyes landed on his face, unfocused, but entirely free of black. “Locks?”
“I’m here, Verity. And I’ll not be leavin’ ye.”
“You saved me,” she sighed, melting into him.
“Sink me, I don’t want to listen to this shite,” Peg-leg grumbled.
Ebba had to agree, though she saw Marigold wiping under her eye as Locks helped a sighing Verity to sit.
“So what be the plan? We can’t dally here overlong. The king’s guards’ll come here once they’ve searched the wharf and town,” Plank said, exchanging a sudden and feral grin with Stubby. Her fathers got excited about danger at the oddest moments.
They all took seats, Ebba plonking herself on the ground, despite Marigold’s stern look. Maybe because of it.
A knock sounded at the door, and they all tensed.
“Sister, are you expecting someone?” Barrels asked quietly.
Marigold stood. “No. I’m not. Samson,” she called to summon the butler, her face paling, “whoever it is, turn them away. I am indisposed.”
The rest of them hushed as the butler they’d terrified last night gave a composed incline of the head and strode forward with a stiff spine to open the door.
Ebba held her breath, watching the butler’s profile go from composed, to shocked, to terrified all in the span of five seconds. He appeared almost as scared as he’d been to encounter seven filthy pirates the night before.
Shite.
“Hide,” Stubby hissed as the butler stood aside.
Ebba got to her feet, ready to dive behind the nearest couch, but paused when a cloaked man stepped inside. He pushed back his hood as the butler closed the door.
“Caspian,” Ebba shouted, darting over to the prince.
She threw herself against his chest, hugging him with her right arm and smiling as she felt him return the one-arm embrace. “How did ye find us?”
“I had assumed you’d go directly to Felicity, but when you didn’t appear, I looked up Barrels’ family tree.” He smiled down at Ebba, amber eyes warming before he glanced away. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop Father from putting you in those horrible cages. He won’t listen to reason when there are pirates involved.”
Ebba bit her tongue. She hated when people insulted her fathers. It was best not to be telling Caspian his father was a heartless brute.
His eyes flicked up. “I couldn’t ask you up at the castle. Why are some of your dreads white? And why are you so thin?”
Oh. She stepped out of his embrace. “So much has happened since I last saw ye, Caspian. I’ll tell ye o’ it soon, but right now we’re in a pickle.”
The prince searched her gaze, his smile fading.
“Y-your Highness,” Marigold interrupted. Barrels’ sister sank into a deep curtsey.
“Chh.” Ebba waved her hand. “Ye don’t need to do that around Caspian. He ain’t a snob.”
Marigold’s eyes widened. “He is the crown prince of Exosia. I would never dream—”
Caspian cut her off with a smile. “We are in the presence of seven pirates and a soothsayer. I believe we can dispense with formalities.”
The woman relaxed after a beat. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“And you can be assured that no one will come searching for you here.”
“How’d ye do that?” Ebba asked him.
He cast a look at Marigold before carefully saying, “Being a prince has its . . . perks. And the crocodiles from the lake somehow got loose and are currently being rounded up by the army.”
The prince arched a brow at her, a knowing gleam in his eyes as he handed his cloak to the butler. Ebba smiled sheepishly and led him into the lounge where her fathers had collapsed again.
“We were just discussin’ how to get our stuff back,” Peg-leg said, shifting so the prince could sit.
The prince sat next to her father without pause. “Yes, it won’t be easy. My father has locked the purgium and the dynami in his personal treasury. And Sally. . . .”
“Is she okay, Caspian? Please tell me yer father didn’t cook her up and eat her,” Ebba said, wringing her hands.
“He wouldn’t do that,” the prince replied with a wry smile. “Sally is comfortable, I assure you.”
Though the wrinkle between his brows as he assured her didn’t assure her at all. What wasn’t he telling her?
“I believe it best if one of you come in to search the castle while I distract Father,” Caspian said.
“I’m sorry,” Marigold said with a regal wave. “How do you all know the prince?” She stared at where he sat wedged between Peg-leg and Stubby as though staring at a puzzle she couldn’t solve.
“We thought he were a prince slave for a good long time,” Grubby explained. “Took him with us, and then he got black gunk in his shoulder so we healed him with a magic tube which stole his arm and won’t give it back.”
Ebba pursed her lips, then nodded. That was pretty accurate.
“I see,” Marigold said faintly. Her eyes briefly came to rest on Caspian’s empty sleeve. “It must have been a life-threatening wound, Your Highness.”
The prince nodded. “To fall victim to the wound would have been a fate worse than death. I owe the crew of Felicity a great debt. They have saved my life many times.”
“You could argue we put you in danger in the first place,” Barrels countered.
Blimey, they were going to start one of their smart everything-has-two-meanings discussions. “We didn’t put him in danger. We just took some o’ the soft out,” she said.
She inspected the prince closely for the first time. He wore hugging breeches of a rich forest green; an embroidered tunic with gold buttons rested tight against his skin. Ebba surveyed his knee-high boots, billowing sleeves, and cravat with a critical eye. He looked handsome and as a prince might. Caspian had a regal way of standing that she’d always noticed, but that was more pronounced in his fitted clothing. She tore her gaze from his thighs and continued her perusal.
“Ye’ve lost some o’ yer hard already,” Ebba finally noted.
“On my honor, Jonathan. Have you raised her with any manners at all?” Marigold blurted.
Barrels colored, but the slight tilt of his chin told Ebba it wasn’t in embarrassment. “We raised her to be honest. That’s a quality very few have.”
“Yes, but you can be honest and polite.”
“Perhaps, sister. But I would thank you to keep your opinions about our daughter to yourself. We are extremely proud of her, and you have no idea what she’s been through.”
Eb
ba blinked at Barrels, who was all but frothing at the bit he was so angry.
Marigold’s mouth fell slightly ajar as she glanced around the rest of her fathers who had fallen into a heavy silence. “I do apologize for criticizing your parenting.”
Ebba replied, “I probably am a wee bit rusty with fancy manners.” She was willing to admit her faults. Sometimes.
“I find Ebba-Viva’s manners very refreshing,” the prince announced. “And she is right. It’s easy to fall back into, uh, soft habits. However, Mistress Fairisles, you may need to soften yourself if we are to carry out my plan.”
“Never,” Ebba scoffed, glancing away. She’d take a bullet in the innards before that happened.
“There is to be a ball for my return tomorrow night,” Caspian said. “I would like Ebba to be my guest. She can retrieve Sally, and I shall steal father’s treasury key so she can grab the purgium and the dynami.”
“I can’t hold them at the same time,” Ebba reminded him. When she’d tried, white light exploded, and she was thrown across the room.
That wasn’t Stubby’s worry. “Ye want to take our daughter to a ball?”
“There’ll be dancin’, will there?” Plank asked, coming to stand beside him.
Locks had been murmuring in Verity’s ear but lifted his head at this. “Why Ebba? Why not one o’ us?”
“A man is more suspicious,” Caspian said, red creeping up his jaw. “Many of the women at these occasions are. . . .” he glanced at Marigold, who answered for him.
“Occupied with the finer things in life?” she suggested.
The prince smiled at her. “Exactly. If Ebba is caught while searching the castle, she can merely pretend she is lost.”
“I ain’t no codfish,” she said, rounding on him.
“Not a codfish, but the art of distraction. Never underestimate the power of a pretty dress, my dear,” Marigold said. “If properly wielded, it can be the equivalent of stabbing a dagger into a man’s side.”
Stabbing people? That put a different spin on things, to be sure. “I ain’t wearin’ no dress,” Ebba said mulishly.
The woman glanced at her brother. “I’m afraid the larger problem is how we can make her fit in.”
“Ah, yes. I did not think of that,” Caspian said, turning to look at her. “Your coloring is far more exotic than the other women in the court. Though most will just be jealous, don’t you think. . . .” He trailed off, catching the older woman’s expression.
Marigold regarded him in disbelief. “She has dreads, a golden hoop earring, and her hair is arranged in clumps. Not to mention the way she speaks.”
He studied Ebba again. “You’re right. I’ve only seen Ebba on the sea.” The prince shrugged. “She’s beautiful, but you’re right; she does not look like the other courtesans.”
He’d called her pretty on Kentro. She’d even heard him telling Barrels that she was beautiful one time. But Ebba had never been called beautiful directly to her face. Her gut reaction was to lash out as she did when people called her fish-lips, but Caspian wasn’t a random stranger or a heckling pirate. He meant the compliment genuinely, and the respect she held for him had her floundering on how to best respond.
Heat rose into her cheeks at the furious whispered conversation several of her fathers were having on the far couch.
“He be takin’ her to a ball and called her beautiful,” Peg-leg hushed in an ominous tone. “I don’t like it. Not one bit.”
“Aye,” Stubby said, glaring over his shoulder at Caspian, who stilled.
Ebba ignored the mounting heat in her face and spoke. “Well, how hard-like can it be? I can be mindin’ my manners.”
Caspian winced. “We need another plan.”
“What? Now ye don’t want to take me?” she demanded.
“I’m too weak to go, but I can disguise her,” Verity said. The soothsayer rested her head against Locks’ shoulder. Dark bags hung under her eyes but did little to hide the fair woman’s natural beauty. Ebba wondered how Marigold would react if Verity went soothsayer on them.
“How?” Plank asked, pulling out of the discussion with Stubby and Peg-leg.
“I’ll make her a charm. While she’s wearing it, anyone who glimpses her will see only a well-bred lady.”
Ebba wrinkled her nose. “I ain’t no horse.”
“What about how she sounds?” Caspian asked the soothsayer.
“She will sound genteel, with an Exosian accent.”
“What about her movements,” Stubby asked as Ebba plonked down on the floor again.
Barrels added, “And her smell?”
“What about my smell,” Ebba exploded.
“All anyone will see, hear, smell, or feel is a lovely young woman with impeccable manners. I can have the charm ready by tomorrow.”
Marigold was whispering to Barrels. “What does she mean by charm?”
Locks gripped Verity’s hand. “It be too much. Ye shouldn’t be exertin’ yerself in any way.”
“I thought the ship drained most o’ yer magic,” Ebba said.
“Not all of it,” Verity said. “Just most. I can still do small things like this. It won’t be taxing.” Her face softened as she glanced up at Locks. “I will be able to rest when we are back on Felicity and away from here.”
Caspian stood. “It’s sorted then.”
“Hold on just one moment,” Peg-leg said to the prince, standing.
Marigold surged to her feet, waving at Ebba. “Come with me, my dear. We must start getting you ready.”
“But I’ll have a charm,” Ebba complained as the woman ushered her out of the room. She glanced back to see her fathers surrounding Caspian.
“It never hurts to have a backup plan,” Marigold answered.
“Ye just want to dress me up like a doll.”
“I’ve got four sons. Of course I do. Plus, what did I tell you before?”
Ebba shrugged, and the woman gave her a stern look.
“Never underestimate the power of a pretty dress.”
Eighteen
She sat with her fathers and Marigold outside a room, ignoring the periodic flashes of red emanating from beneath the door, and the occasional wisp of smoke.
Caspian had left yesterday without saying goodbye, leaving only a cream envelope with a gold trim that would gain her access to the castle. If Ebba could walk into it in these ridiculous shoes.
“But honestly, Jonathan. Has she never worn shoes in her life?” Marigold hushed at her brother.
“She doesn’t like them. It’s easier to climb the shrouds in bare feet,” he answered.
“I’m not sure a lady should be climbing ropes and gallivanting around in such a manner!”
“Sister,” Barrels said in warning.
Ebba took pity on the woman, not taking her eyes off the flashing light, which had just changed to purples and greens. “Don’t be feelin’ sorry for me, Miss Marigold. My fathers did drop me off with some females once. It was an awful time bein’ in dresses, so I made them promise never to leave me at a brothel again.”
Marigold jerked, and her teacup fell to the polished wood floor, smashing. “Jonathan Schnikelwood!”
Ebba smirked evilly.
“It’s not what it sounds like,” Barrels hurried to say, standing with his hands raised.
“Schnikelwood,” Stubby wheezed, pounding his chest. “Gets me every time.”
The flashes turned brilliant gold, and Verity emerged amidst a plume of silver smoke, a ruby necklace in her hand, one that Marigold had donated to their plan.
“Does it work?” Plank asked, drawing closer.
Verity shot him a look. “What are you saying?” she snarled at him.
Disappointingly, no cracks appeared on her skin.
Locks cleared his throat, and the soothsayer tore her eyes from Plank to walk over to Ebba. “Watch,” she muttered.
Ebba lifted her dreads so the woman could clasp the ruby necklace around her neck. Ebba wasn’t happy with th
e shoes or the stupid frilly dress she had on, but treasure was something she could get used to.
Her fathers gasped.
“What?” Ebba asked, staring at them. “Ye look as though a fly flew in yer gob.”
“You are shocked. Might I inquire as to why,” Barrels said, mouth open. “Those exact words just came out of your mouth.”
Really? That wasn’t what she’d said, but Ebba supposed the meaning was the same.
Barrels turned to the rest of their crew. “The charm works.”
“Are ye sayin the charm is changin’ my words?” She couldn’t hear anything.
Peg-leg gasped. “That be mighty strange, but ye’re right. Ebba never spoke so fancy a day in her life.”
“Is Ebba still there underneath?” Stubby demanded. “Her hair ain’t that long.”
“Her hair?” Peg-leg scoffed. “She ain’t dark brown, for starters.”
“I be white?” Ebba asked. “My skin be fair?” That was strange.
Verity leaned into Locks’ side. “The prince may think you exotic, Ebba-Viva, but a tribesperson will stick out in the castle as much as a pirate. While I’d usually be all for shocking some ignorance out of the Exosians, now is not the time to be noticed.”
Barrels came over and patted her hand. “Rest assured, my dear, you look nothing like your usual self, but this guise will help us get our lost items back.”
“Where did Ebba go?” Grubby asked, entering the room.
Plank pointed. “She’s right there.”
Grubby tilted his head. “I ain’t sure I like what ye’ve done with yer hair this time, Ebba.”
Plank took pity. “It ain’t really how she looks, Grubs. She’s wearin’ a magic charm that’s changin’ her appearance.”
His brow cleared. “Oh. Thought ye were awful pale.”
Her fathers groaned.
“Get up and move,” Marigold said, eyes narrowed. Ebba suspected the woman was awed but didn’t wish to show it.
Ebba stood, wincing at the pinch of her shoes, and wobbled across the floor, nearly falling twice.
“As graceful as a butterfly,” Locks breathed.
Verity snorted.
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