“It’s a big ocean, Highness,” said Hays.
“Would you prefer we huddle along our shores, waiting for the undine to attack at their leisure? We know where the Branwyn was attacked. Once this storm recedes, we can begin our search there.”
Danielle cleared her throat. “Exactly how difficult would it be for a ship to sail through this storm?”
“Anything’s possible,” said Admiral Hays. “I’d not want to try it if I had the choice.”
“Why do you ask?” Suspicion sharpened Armand’s voice.
“We’ve learned of someone who might be able to help the queen. I’m told the Phillipa is a fast ship. Would she survive these winds?”
The king straightened. “Who have you found? Where is this person?”
“The mermaid who created Lirea’s knife.” Danielle hesitated to say more in front of so many people. “If we can find her, she might be able to help us undo—”
“You promised me you would be careful,” Armand said, pulling her aside. “Even if the winds don’t capsize you, Lirea and her undine are lurking out there. What makes you think they won’t come after the Phillipa? It’s too dangerous for you to—”
“As dangerous as searching half of Fairytown to rescue a captured prince?” Danielle answered.
Armand’s eyes widened, and the king coughed to cover what might or might not have been a smile.
“You found Lannadae,” Armand said softly.
Danielle didn’t answer. “Lirea may come here in search of her sister. We should make sure the docks are well watched.”
“For all the good it will do in these storms,” Hays said. “A man can barely see his own—” He glanced at Danielle. “His own hand.”
Snow stepped forward to stand beside Talia. “The spells on Lirea’s knife are strong. If we can find the mermaid who created it, she might also have the skill to find its wielder.”
“Why would she help us against her own kind?” Trittibar asked.
Talia’s chin rose ever so slightly. “We can be very persuasive.”
“Let me go.” Armand turned to the king. “I can take the Phillipa to find this mermaid.”
“Because somehow this is less dangerous if you go instead of me?” Danielle demanded. She folded her arms. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll stay here where it’s safe if you promise to do the same.”
“It’s my duty as prince—” Armand began. His shoulders drooped slightly, and he gave her a rueful smile. “You’re about to turn that argument back at me, aren’t you? Don’t expect me to be happy about this, Princess.”
“No more than I am.” She gave him a quick kiss, trying to ease the moment. “You think I wouldn’t rather be here with you and Jakob? It tears my heart to leave him with Nicolette again so soon. Sometimes I think he knows her better than his own mother.” She swallowed hard, refusing to lose her composure in front of so many people, but Armand saw. He reached for her, and she rested against him. “But if I stay here where it’s safe, and Beatrice . . . I have to, Armand. We both know a mermaid is more likely to listen to a princess than a prince.”
James cleared his throat. “I’d like to come too, with your permission.”
“Are you sure?” asked Danielle.
He bit his lip, but he nodded. “I’ve spent most of my life at sea. I won’t let the merfolk take that away from me.”
The king had been quiet, listening to their argument. Now he nodded to James. “Your experiences could be helpful if the undine attack again. If you’re sure, you may accompany the princess on the Phillipa.”
James bowed his head, but not fast enough to conceal look of apprehension. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“A single ship would be too obvious a target,” Armand said. “An escort—”
“An escort is precisely what will mark us as a target to Lirea and her warriors,” Snow said. “Even with the hurricane bells, you’ll still have individual ships seeking to escape the storms. Fishermen need to eat, and the cargo ships lose money every day they delay. Most will obey the warnings, but a few will not. The Phillipa will be just another ship sneaking away to try her luck against the storm . . . unless you draw attention to her.”
Armand whirled. “So you think I should send my wife out unprotected?”
“Unprotected?” Talia repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“I won’t be,” said Danielle. “An escort is a good idea.”
Armand stared. “Perhaps I’ve fallen prey to some spell, but I could have sworn your friend just finished arguing against sending additional ships.”
“Who said anything about ships?”
Danielle had only taken a few steps down the tower stairs when she heard the door open again behind her. “Armand?”
It wasn’t her husband, but the king himself. Theodore pulled the door shut behind him. “I won’t keep you. But if you could spare a moment?”
Talia took Snow by the elbow.“We’ll grab something for you from the kitchen and meet you in your chambers.”
Danielle almost called them back.While she had grown close to the queen over the past year, she hadn’t spent much time with King Theodore. He might be her father-in-law, but she still saw him first as ruler of Lorindar.
Danielle waited until Snow and Talia vanished down the stairs. “Armand is angry at me, isn’t he?”
“No. Not at you, at any rate. Mostly he’s scared.” The king leaned against the wall, showing the fatigue he had struggled to hide before. “He’s already angry that he couldn’t protect his mother, and he hates the idea of you putting yourself in danger. I can’t really blame him for that.”
“I’m not thrilled about the danger either,” Danielle said. “But I can’t—”
“I know. Armand knows too.” He sat down and patted the step for Danielle to join him. “Beatrice and I had been married less than a year when I realized she was sneaking away from the palace. I was furious. I tried to follow her once, believing—” He bowed his head. “Well, what any man might suspect.”
Danielle tried not to stare. She had never seen the king blush before.
“At that time, I was working to settle an inheritance dispute between twin brothers, both of whom believed they should rule South Haven. Their father’s body was still warm, and already they were at each others’ throats.” He shook his head. “After holding court for two days with these spoiled brats, I was ready to throw them both from the cliffs. I’m afraid I took my frustrations out on Beatrice that night, shouting at her and accusing her of various infidelities.”
He chuckled. “She walked away in the middle of my rant, slamming the door in my face.”
“What did you do?” Danielle tried and failed to imagine the king shouting at Beatrice.
“Nobody had ever turned her back on me before. I stood there for quite a while. Long enough to realize I might have made a mistake. I was too proud to follow her, though. Eventually I retired to bed.
“A noise woke me later that night. I sat up, thinking she had finally returned. Instead, a man swathed in black stood over my bed. He held a knife in one hand, and a mask hid all but his eyes. He took a single step, then flopped onto my legs, a single arrow protruding from his back.
“Beatrice stood in the doorway. She lowered her bow and stepped inside to apologize for interrupting my sleep. There had been a second assassin, and stopping him had taken longer than she expected.”
“What about your guards?” Danielle asked.
“Stunned,” said the king. “Charles, one of the twins, had planned well. He hoped to frame his brother for my death, earning South Haven for his own and moving himself one step closer to the throne. I never suspected—” He turned to look in the direction of the chapel, and his voice softened. “I didn’t, but Beatrice did. Things were far easier between us after that night.”
Danielle tried to smile. “I did help rescue Armand from my stepsisters. Does that count, or do I need to stop actual assassins?”
That earned another chuckle. “He�
�s prince of Lorindar. He’s not used to feeling powerless.” He climbed to his feet. “There are things Beatrice has done which I don’t know about. Things I can’t know. I have no doubt she’s saved my life more than once. Perhaps the kingdom as well. But it was never without danger.”
He looked at the wall, as if he were trying to peer through the stone to the chapel where Beatrice lay. “She chose that risk. I hope you don’t feel forced to make that same choice or to accept those same risks.”
“Beatrice has been like a mother to me,” Danielle said.
The king’s face was hard to read. Hope and fear and sadness all battled behind his furrowed brow and shadowed eyes. “The Phillipa will be ready to depart at sunrise.”
Danielle spent a fitful night, between the rain pounding against the palace and the warning peal of the hurricane bells. The sky was still dark when Talia knocked on the door. It had to be Talia. Anyone else would have hesitated to awaken the prince and princess so early.
Danielle sighed, kissed Armand, and climbed out of bed to get dressed.
Armand rolled over, watching her through the silk curtains. “I talked to my father last night after you went to bed. He’s arranged to have a small chest of gold brought to the Phillipa. If the undine do attack, you might be able to buy your freedom. Let Captain Hephyra do the talking, and don’t let them find out who you are.”
“I thought we had decided not to pay.” Danielle sat on the edge of the bed to lace her boots.
“We had.” He sat up and pushed a curtain aside, then kissed the back of her neck. “However, that decision was made before you insisted on sailing out alone.” He kissed her again, moving to the side of the neck, then to her ear. His beard tickled the skin along her cheekbone.
Danielle closed her eyes as her blood pounded harder. She placed a hand on his thigh. “You’ll try anything to keep me safe, won’t you?”
“Mm . . . is it working?”
She laughed and turned to kiss him. His plan might have worked well indeed, if Talia hadn’t chosen that moment to knock again. With a groan, Danielle pulled away and picked up her sword belt. “And what will you be doing today, Prince Armand? Unless your plans have changed, it was my understanding that you meant to lead your warships out to hunt for undine, to deliberately lure them into attacking.”
He lay back, still watching her. “I’ve also ordered extra nets sent to the Phillipa. They should be strong enough to use against the undine.”
“Thank you.” She turned around. “I will be careful, Armand.”
“We received word late last night that the undine sank a Lyskaran frigate in their own harbor early yesterday evening.” Armand rubbed his face with both hands, as though he thought he could scrub the fatigue away. “Once again, they left only a single survivor to relay their demand for gold.”
“I’m sorry,” said Danielle.
“I dreamed it was your ship.” He watched as she tugged her hair back into a loose braid. “I watched them pull you down . . .”
Danielle kissed him again. “I have to do this. Your mother would do the same thing.”
“My mother’s actions are the reason she’s laid out in the chapel, a breath away from death.” He climbed out of bed. “Tell your friends I expect them to bring you back to me.”
“Tell your crew the same from me,” Danielle said. She hugged him once, running her fingers through his sleep-tousled hair before pulling away. “Tell them it’s a royal command from their princess.”
She found Talia dressed and ready. She wore only a handful of visible weapons, most notably a curved dagger on her hip and several shorter throwing knives on the opposite side. Danielle had no doubt a small armory was tucked about her person.Talia glanced at Danielle’s outfit and grunted.“I was starting to think you’d changed your mind.”
They stopped at the nursery so Danielle could kiss Jakob good-bye. Jakob hardly stirred at all as she lifted him from the crib. A small puddle of drool on his pillow showed that at least one member of the royal family had managed a good night’s sleep. Danielle dried his cheek as she cradled him to her chest.
“The Phillipa is waiting,” Talia said. “The tide will be turning soon. If you want to leave today—”
“I know.” Holding her son, a part of her wanted to send Talia and Snow along without her. They had served Queen Bea for years before Danielle came along. The words were at her throat, but she forced them down. She kissed Jakob again, then gently laid him back into the crib. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
“Sleep well,” Talia added. “I’ll do my best to bring your mother back in one piece.”
Danielle smiled at that, though she knew there was truth in Talia’s words. How many had Lirea already killed? The idea of Jakob growing up without his mother, as Danielle had done . . . She bowed her head and followed Talia from the nursery.
Outside, the storm showed no sign of letting up, and they were both soaked by the time they reached their carriage. The cold water washed away her fatigue but left her even more depressed about leaving Jakob and Armand. “Where’s Snow?”
“Waiting with Lannadae. She’s been agitated ever since she found out about her sister.”
“How are we going to get her onto the Phillipa without anyone seeing?” Danielle asked. “She can’t exactly scale the ladder with the rest of us.”
“Snow will be bringing her in on the ship’s dinghy, along with various supplies. Including your special request.” Talia wrinkled her nose. “Better her than me.”
Danielle dug her fingers into the embroidered cushions as the carriage rocked in the wind. The road was wide, but a strong enough wind might still upend the carriage, even with the extra weight of the trunks packed in the back.
“I should warn you, it’s dangerous letting Snow do this on her own,” Talia said.
“You think someone might attack her?”
“Worse.” Talia leaned back in her seat. “I think we’re going to spend the rest of the day listening to her make ‘dinghy’ jokes.”
The Phillipa was loaded up and anchored near the mouth of the harbor. Snow and Lannadae waited at the dock to row Danielle and Talia out to the ship. The dinghy was already crowded, with three barrels packed into the back and a tarp strapped over Snow’s trunk against the rain. Lannadae hid beneath the tarp as well, curled into a smaller space than Danielle would have thought possible.
By the time Danielle and Talia settled into the boat, it sat so low in the water Danielle feared it might capsize. Danielle tried to adjust her sword to keep the cross guard from jabbing her in the side. She didn’t know how Talia carried so many weapons on her person without bruising herself every time she moved.
Talia squeezed onto the bench beside Snow, taking one of the oars. They rowed together, pulling the boat toward the Phillipa.
The Phillipa was smaller than the Glass Slipper. She was a two-masted ship of unusual design, with a narrower beam than most of the ships Danielle had seen. Her hull was unpainted, the wood oiled to a rich brown. Even in the cloudy morning light, the furled sails gleamed as though they were woven from silver threads. A carved swan was mounted at the bow, her long head extending beneath the bowsprit.
“She was a gift from the fairy queen.” Snow pointed to the mainmast. “The spars are freestanding, which means she has a broader range of motion. The sheets are much lighter than canvas but just as strong. The rigging was woven from—”
“She’s fast and she’s strong,” Talia snapped. “We get that. Now would you mind paying attention to what you’re doing before you completely turn us around?”
“I want to see,” said Lannadae.
Danielle pressed gently on her shoulder to keep her down. “You will. We’re almost there. Stay down until we reach the far side of the ship.”
“We’ll secure the lines to the boat before we board,” Snow said. “Lannadae, you’ll be alone when they raise it from the water. Too much weight makes it harder to hoist their dinghy.” She smirked. “Stay out o
f sight until we get you. Captain Hephyra knows you’re coming, but I’m not sure how the rest of the crew will feel.”
“I understand.” Lannadae’s breathing was faster than normal, and her scales were puffed outward. A sign of fear, Danielle guessed. This was the first time Lannadae had been out of her cave since the past fall.
“Captain Hephyra had no objections to taking an undine passenger?” Danielle asked.
Snow grinned. “If anyone will take a mermaid on board, it’s Hephyra.” With that odd proclamation, Snow stood up in the boat and waved to the crew.
Once Snow and Talia had finished knotting the ropes to the front and back of the dinghy, one of the crew lowered a rope ladder. Danielle followed the others onto Queen Beatrice’s personal sailing ship.
The Phillipa was a madhouse. Rain splashed against the deck as the crew rushed to secure the last of the supplies. She spotted James helping to haul several barrels up from another boat and waved. James returned the greeting. He appeared nervous, his bruised face grim as he turned back to his duties.
“Captain?” Danielle called, shouting to be heard over the storm.
“Princess Whiteshore?”The speaker was a tall woman perched on the platform near the top of the mainmast. The maintop, if Danielle remembered the terminology correctly.
“You’ll be wanting to back up,” said a passing crewman.
He hurried on before Danielle could respond, but she did as he suggested. Moments later, the woman leaped from the platform. She landed in front of the three princesses, one hand hitting the deck to help absorb the impact.
Danielle stared. For an instant, the woman’s bare feet had sunk into the boards of the deck. The woman straightened. “Snow. Talia. Nice to see you both again.”
“Captain Hephyra,” Danielle guessed, still staring. Not even Talia could have made such a jump without breaking her legs.
Hephyra was easily a head taller than most of the crew, dressed in a fashion that might have come straight from the more risqué section of Snow’s wardrobe. The rain had soaked her white shirt, and a dark green bodice did little to preserve her modesty. Auburn hair hung nearly to her waist. Her sleeves were tied back above the elbow, revealing a slender gold tattoo around her wrist in the design of a chain. Her trousers were a style Danielle didn’t recognize, dark brown and tied at the knee to reveal well-muscled legs.
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