Princess at Sea

by Dawn Cook

  “Kavenlow?” I warbled, my eyes going to the pile of trunks by the ramp. They were his, not Jeck’s. I recognized them now.

  “I’m leaving,” he said, not sounding at all apologetic. “It’s all arranged. I’m taking Misdev, and Jeck will stay here in Costenopolie.”

  Heart beating wildly, I grabbed his arm. “You can’t! Why?”

  Eyes pinched, he took my hands and held them in the comforting strength of his own. “Tess, forgive me for being selfish, but I’m bored. I’ve played all I can with Costenopolie. I want new pieces, new challenges. I’m not ready to leave the game, but there’s nothing left for me here. It’s become too easy. I’m becoming soft, complacent. And you?” Again he smiled, though I thought it was getting harder as the wrinkles about his eyes grew deeper. “Jeck can give you what I can’t.”

  I looked over Kavenlow’s shoulder to Jeck. I didn’t want him as a master. I was starting to like him, whether it was a silly-woman crush or not. And the thought of taking instruction from him and trying to hide my feelings was going to be a nightmare of embarrassment. Especially when he figured it out. Which he would. If he hadn’t already. Chu pits, I would not have him knowing his words of comfort and his quiet understanding had meant that much to me!

  “He doesn’t like me,” I insisted, feeling it was a lost cause but having to protest. “Kavenlow, don’t do this to me. I don’t want to be his apprentice!”

  “That’s enough,” he said sharply, the first hint of metal in his voice. “I can’t teach you anything more. You’ve taken everything I can give you. You’ve gone past me. Jeck can do what I cannot.” His eyes softened, and his hand touching my jawline trembled. “And I didn’t just bring up a player, Tess. I raised a daughter, and I want her to be happy. You need love to be complete. You take your strength from it. And Jeck—”

  I jerked my hand from his, covering Kavenlow’s mouth, cold with the words he had almost said. The breeze off the bay swirled through my hair, tugging at it. Kavenlow smiled softly from behind his graying beard as he took my hand back in his own.

  “He loves you, Tess,” he said gently, but it scared me nevertheless. “I never expected it to shift from respect to love, but it did, and I can see it as clearly as you can see it between Alex and Contessa.”

  “No. He doesn’t,” I said, my mouth dry and my stomach in knots. But a zephyr rose, whispering and buzzing in my ear, laughing cheerfully. I didn’t listen to it, afraid what my subconscious was trying to tell me.

  “With him, you can be a player,” Kavenlow said, and this time, his smile was laced with sadness. “He won’t tell anyone about your punta bite if you’re his apprentice. And God is my witness that I won’t. You will have the ten years you need for your venom levels to drop.”

  “But I . . .” I stammered. Jeck loves me? He hardly knows me. “Kavenlow . . .”

  A bellowing shout drew his attention to the ramp. It was Captain Borlett, berating the crew for smacking Kavenlow’s trunk into a piling. Kavenlow moved from the stacked wood with a relieved quickness. “Excuse me, Princess. I want to be sure they don’t damage my things.

  “Kavenlow!” I moved to follow, frightened. He was leaving. Right now!

  His arms went around me, and he gave me a crushing embrace. The air fled from my lungs, and my eyes watered. Behind him, Contessa was watching from Alex’s arm, smiling at us.

  “It’s all arranged,” Kavenlow whispered, seemingly unwilling to let go. “I’m going to Misdev under the guise of being the permanent ambassador as Contessa wishes. I’ll be sending your ship back as soon as I get there. In reality, I will be taking over Jeck’s game. Jeck’s sovereign has permanently assigned him to the Costenopolie court in light of the recent abductions, and in truth he will be Costenopolie’s player. We have a six-month grace period where no other player can interfere while we learn our pieces and settle in. Six months where you will go with absolutely no toxin or magic to evaluate how damaged your toxin tolerances are.”

  The gulls wheeling above us cried, sounding like my heart breaking. “You’ve both settled this in a nice neat package,” I said, my voice harsh. “Don’t I get a say?”

  He pulled from me, his eyes tearing. “No. You can leave the game of course. But it would be a shame. The things you can do . . .” He hesitated, putting me at arm’s length. “You will be one of the greatest players, Tess. I just don’t know how Jeck is going to keep you under wraps as an emerging power.”

  Hope mixed with heartache. I was going to be a player. I had lost nothing. Except Kavenlow.

  My joy crashed as he let go of my hands and stepped away. I stiffened, suddenly realizing Jeck was standing behind him—waiting. I eyed him warily, my pulse quickening as I saw him still wearing his Misdev uniform. Apart from when I had been crying over Duncan, my heart wounded and my thoughts trying to find a way to heal the pain, he held himself distant. He was brusque, short, and sarcastic. I would swear he went out of his way to irritate me. His eyes were always on me, and usually there was a tight look of annoyance in them.

  Understanding fell on me, washing the warmth of the sun away. He didn’t want to love me. That was why he was so disagreeable.

  Kavenlow saw my cold face and nodded, knowing I finally understood. “Good-bye, Tess,” he said, and my eyes widened. “I’ll write you.”

  “Kavenlow . . .” I struggled to say something, but my mind was blank.

  “Take care of yourself,” he whispered, angling himself so Jeck couldn’t see his moving lips. “And don’t be too difficult with him. Give him time to figure out he can love and find strength in it, not failure. You can teach him that.”

  He pulled from my numb grip. Visibly steadying himself, he faced Jeck. “Captain,” he said formally, nodding with a deep respect.

  “Chancellor,” he responded, his low voice calm and confident.

  Lump forming in my throat, I watched Kavenlow twist a ring off his finger and give it to him as a token of surrendering his position as Costenopolie’s player. Jeck shifted his balance and put it on his finger. He hesitated in thought, then with a smile quirking his lips to ruin his stiff demeanor, he took off his gaudy hat and gave it to Kavenlow.

  Kavenlow took a breath to protest, his brow furrowed. Jeck cocked an eyebrow, and Kavenlow collapsed in on himself, accepting it. He turned to me one last time. My mouth worked, but nothing came out. Smiling, he bowed his head for an instant before he turned and walked confidently to the ramp, the gaudy monstrosity of a hat crushed in his grip.

  I sniffed loudly, stiffening when Jeck slid up beside me. We stood shoulder to shoulder, and I wondered what was going to happen. Suddenly nervous, I glanced at Jeck sideways. He loves me? “Captain.”

  “Apprentice,” he replied, not looking at me but at the sparkling waves. Falling into a parade rest, he laced his hands behind his back, his feet spread wide and his head level. “If you ever try to change my memories again, I will slap you into next spring.”

  I took a breath, knees shaking as I felt small beside him, my white dress brushing against his black trousers. Some women get flowers or poems from their suitors. I get insults and threats. Heather would laugh herself pink. “I still outrank you,” I said boldly.

  He shifted slightly, giving me a wry look before turning away. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. You will join me in the stables tomorrow morning at sunup. Your horsemanship is appalling.”

  My eyes widened, and my pulse quickened in ire. “I can out-jump you any day, Captain. I’ve been riding since I was three.”

  He made a comfortable-sounding scoff, a hint of anticipation in it. The desire for a companion that could meet him strength for strength? Skill for skill? Understanding for understanding?

  “Then you won’t mind showing up an hour earlier to prove it,” he said, turning away when he saw my eyes go gentle in thought.

  I took a breath to protest, then changed my mind. A small cheer rose at the ramp, and the ship cast off in a flurry of shouts and commands. Kavenlow stood bes
ide the wheel with Captain Borlett, and the distance between us had already grown too far to jump. My heart ached, and tears blurred my sight.

  My heart full of loss and hope, I sent my zephyr to grow and fill the sails to speed him on his way. With a surprising thump, the canvas snapped full. And though the crew scrambled to respond, Kavenlow gave me a little bow, his pride obvious even from the distance between us.

  Jeck sucked at his teeth and rocked back on his heels, then to his toes. “Got it under control now, hum?” he asked softly.

  The wind swung back to me, making the women on the dock cry in dismay as their hair blew to hit their faces. I reached up and pressed my hair down. “Sort of,” I said, holding myself still as the wind tied my hair in knots and whispered very clearly in my ear that Jeck loved me.