The Emerald Sea

by Richelle Mead

I expected him to lead me to the big house, but we instead went to one of the newly constructed shanties. The one we entered was even smaller than his cabin in Grashond. It was more like a tent that happened to have wooden walls. “‘Palace’ might have been overselling it,” he told me, taking a kettle from the hearth.

  I laughed and sat on a braided rug, seeing as there were no chairs or table. “If you knew what I’d been sleeping in, you’d know this is pure luxury. Sleeping in your sleigh was pure luxury, actually, compared to a riverbank.”

  He poured two cups of lukewarm tea and then joined me on the rug, taking off his hat. His sun-streaked hair was damp with sweat, his cheeks ruddier than the last time I’d seen him. He wore an old button-up shirt that might have been white once, its sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He couldn’t stop smiling, and I realized I wasn’t the only one doing a lot of staring.

  “A riverbank? What do you . . .” His eyes flicked down, and the smile faltered just a little as he took in my clothes. “Good grief, Tamsin. What happened to you? Green is still your color, but . . .”

  I ran my hands over my skirt. I’d cleaned most of the dirt off, but the velvet was matted and dull. I untied the apron, revealing the rest. “I figured you would’ve noticed right away and tried to sell me something new.”

  “Why would I be looking at a dress when I had your beautiful face in front of me? But I probably can rustle something up for you. Now. Where have you been? Did you . . . you did get to Cape Triumph, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. And then I went some other places. The middle of Denham Bay, for one.”

  I launched into my story, stumbling briefly when I described how I was nearly engaged to Warren Doyle. That was a necessary part, though, and as I delved into everything else, the awkwardness faded. I grew more impassioned as I spoke, my emotions bubbling over. For the last few days, I’d lived through incredible circumstances, forcing myself to focus on survival. Now, removed from them, actually describing them, I felt the full onslaught of just how dire my situation had been. It slammed into me, and all the fear I’d had to repress to get through each day now came out. I didn’t realize how much I was shaking, how frantic my words became, or that I even had tears in my eyes until Jago drew me to him, resting my head against his chest.

  “Okay, okay. It’s okay now,” he said gently. “You’re safe. We’ll figure this out.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “I was afraid you’d turn me away. I was afraid you’d never want to see me again.”

  “All I’ve wanted for weeks is to see you again.” His fingers curled into my hair, winding the strands around his hand.

  “But after what I did to you . . . it was terrible . . .”

  He leaned his head down, resting his cheek against my forehead as he thought over his response. “I know why you did it. You shouldn’t have done it. But I know why you did.”

  “Of course I should have. I wasn’t going to let you give up everything you’ve worked for!” Even in my bleak state, I couldn’t help a spark of indignation.

  “It was mine to give up,” he insisted.

  “And mine to refuse!” Realizing the argument was quickly going to spin around futilely, I sighed and let it go. “I’m sorry, Jago. I don’t regret saving you from yourself, but I am sorry it had to happen like it did. You must have been so angry when you realized the fort was a trick.”

  “Angry? No. Shocked, maybe.” He paused. “Heartbroken.”

  I felt my own heart break at those words. “Oh, Jago. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

  His tone turned rueful. “Well, it was a little comfort to think you’d at least be safe and well-provided for with some other lucky lovestruck man.”

  Silence.

  “I want to laugh at that,” I said finally. “But I think I’d start crying pretty fast.”

  “Well, we can’t have that.” He helped me stand. “Come take a look at what you saved. We’ll get you fed and cleaned up. Then, we’ll figure out what to do next.”

  “But I—”

  “Food and bath first.”

  Outside, the sun beat down, daring me to claim it had ever been cold in Adoria. Jago formally introduced me to Alexi, as well as the horses. The silver mare was Breeze—Pebble and Dove’s mother. The black mare was Winsome, and her colt was Desmond. Jago’s face shone as he described their personalities and petted the ones who came to see us at the fence. Felicia stayed away, though.

  “She’s jealous of you,” Jago teased.

  “Well, I’m jealous of her hair. I’ve never seen such a thing on a horse. Is that why everyone gushes over her?”

  “Partly. But she’s agile too, lots of endurance.” His eyes lit up. “And when you let her run, she’s faster than lightning.”

  We climbed the grassy slope up toward the house, pausing at the door to survey the vista around us. Green, green everywhere. Smooth and rolling like the sea on an easy day. A gnarled lilac bush by the house perfumed the air, and the horses grazed contentedly in the pasture. Near the barn, Alexi knelt near a leafless tree, digging at its base.

  Jago pointed. “The old owners never thought about using this land for horses. It was all apple trees when they came over from Osfrid, and they maintained them for almost thirty years. When the husband died, his wife went to live with their son out east. They hired workers for a while but soon stopped and just let things go.”

  “And that’s when you came along?” I asked.

  “Not right away. I came along about ten years later. The mistress’s son had been wanting to sell, but she wouldn’t allow it. When I saw it, I knew it was perfect, but I didn’t have nearly enough money.” He crossed his arms over his chest, gazing about fondly. “I tracked them down, got a feel for her, and made a deal that won her over. I can be pretty persuasive, you know.”

  “Yeah, I think I heard that somewhere,” I remarked straight-faced.

  “I agreed to keep some of the orchard and restore the house. In exchange, we worked out a longtime payment plan, during which I could keep the horses here and start some of the labor. Her son would’ve preferred to sell it all in one go, but by then, he was ready for any sale.”

  “And so, here you are.”

  Jago answered with a lopsided smile and slipped his arm around me. “Here I am.”

  “If you’re supposed to keep the orchard, why is Alexi digging that tree out?” I asked.

  “Because it’s dead. Half of them are. We’re trying to clear those out, but it’s a long, hard process. Makes fixing up this house seem easy, and that’s quite a feat too. Take a look.”

  He used an ancient key to unlock the front door, opening it with a creak. Entering the house reminded me of stories I’d heard of great tombs in faraway lands, where emperors were buried with all their goods. The rooms were all furnished and decorated, just as if they were in use. The layers of dust suggested otherwise, as did the disrepair. It wasn’t just the house’s structure that had worn with time. Some of the furniture and rugs were also falling apart.

  “This is why you guys sleep in the sheds,” I said, peering up at a warped section of ceiling.

  “Yup. I’d rather welcome you here, but I also don’t want the attic collapsing on you.” We continued through the kitchen to the house’s still room. The scent of herbs lingered in the air from where they’d been hung from the vaulted rafters.

  “This’ll be incredible when it’s restored,” I said. “It’s a rival to any of the fine houses I saw in Cape Triumph.”

  “You visited a few of those, I imagine?” Jago moved to one wall where an old bathtub was lying upside down. He flipped it over and knocked away some spiders.

  “Did you doubt me?”

  “Never,” he said good-naturedly, hoisting the tub up. “Grab the door there, please.”

  We trekked back across the property to his shanty. He set the tub down with a thump and wi
ped sweat from his forehead with a wrinkled handkerchief. “If you don’t mind the heat, you can have a bath now. Otherwise, it should start cooling down in a few hours.”

  It took me a moment to realize what he was getting at. “Oh, I don’t need a hot one. Cold water’s fine.”

  “After swimming in Denham Bay? No. You get a hot one.”

  I ran a hand over my hair, which was limp and oily from days without a proper washing. “Then I don’t mind the heat.”

  “I figured. Be right back.”

  When he returned, he carried a basin of steaming water and had Alexi in tow. Alexi greeted me in Belsian and handed over a basket of bread, cheese, and dried apples. Jago dumped the water into the bathtub and covered it with a tarp. Then, after urging me to eat, he and Alexi departed once more. When they came back, each with a hot basin this time, I tried again to deter them.

  “What are you doing? That’s enough,” I exclaimed. “You don’t need to be traipsing about with tubs of hot water on a day like this!”

  “It’s no bother,” Jago said in his cheery way. “We’ve already got more heating up on a fire out there.”

  Guiltily, I ate the food while they labored. When the bath was finally ready, Jago left me with soap and a large trunk. “I offloaded a lot of my goods when I got to Denham, but lucky for you, I’ve still got some women’s clothes. Take what you want. We’ve got a few things that need to be taken care of this afternoon, but I’ll check on you later.”

  I looked around at the steaming tub, clothes, and remnants of my meal. A lump formed in my throat. “Jago . . .”

  He opened the door and winked. “I know.”

  I didn’t get around to the clothes before he returned because I never left the tub. Once I’d given myself a thorough scrubbing, I went through and scrubbed again, even though it left some of my skin pink and raw. I just kept feeling like I had layers of grime to remove and had to hold back from a third washing. Instead, I contented myself by lounging back in the sudsy water, luxuriating in this brief respite.

  Jago didn’t look entirely surprised to see me still there when he came back. “Isn’t it cold now?”

  “Lukewarm.”

  He poured himself a cup of water and then knelt down in a corner, putting a polite distance between us. “Then we should heat more water and refill it.”

  “No! I’ll be out soon.” I leaned my head back against the tub’s edge and stared upward. “And then it really is time to figure out what to do. I know I have to get back to Cape Triumph, but from there . . .”

  “Wait a few days,” Jago advised. “He might be able to put off dealing with your disappearance in the short term, but if enough time goes by, he’s going to have to commit to some story. Your return will contradict that. Otherwise, he’ll be able to improvise.”

  “I’m in no rush to get back there,” I admitted. “Not until Merry comes, of course. But I hate the thought of Mira and the others thinking something’s happened to me. I can’t put her through that again.”

  “Better others think something happened to you than something actually happening.” He mulled that over and then focused back on me, meeting my eyes over the side of the tub. “Something very nearly did! I think you really do have an angel looking after you to keep getting out of these scrapes.”

  “That, or I’m just too stubborn to die.”

  “I’m glad of it either way, but it’s time to make sure these close calls end. You can’t go back to Cape Triumph just so Warren can try to kill you again, and the way to prevent that is by figuring out why he wanted to kill you in the first place.”

  “Because the Lorandian man recognized me—and I recognized him. I knew that he wasn’t really Icori.”

  “You knew that before. Harper believed you.”

  “Yes, but when we realized an actual Osfridian had attacked that fishing settlement, Harper didn’t believe all the reported skirmishes were staged. I’m sure that’s why the other reports he heard—thanks to me—helped spur him to shuffle soldiers around.”

  “But you think that Osfridian wasn’t so much a disgruntled settler breaking the treaties as someone ordered by Warren to stir up trouble?”

  So much of that night on the bay felt surreal and fragmented, but there was something in the way Warren had referred to his agents conducting attacks—and the way the Lorandian had bristled at the comparison to his own acts—that made me certain of the theory.

  “Yes,” I finally said. “I don’t think Warren singlehandedly is arranging all these attacks along the borders, but he’s part of whatever group is. The Icori and colonists each think the others are attacking, and that’s going to lead to real retaliation—if it hasn’t already. Now, the central armies are off to intervene, which could make things worse. Why would Warren want a war with the Icori?”

  “Someone usually profits in war. You said he was talking about ammunition. Maybe he wants to sell it?” I could tell Jago didn’t really believe that, though.

  “Surely there are better ways to make money. Especially for someone whose colony’s biggest export is gold.” I started to sit upright, then stopped, too uncertain of my situation with Jago to parade around naked. “But maybe it’s not for us to figure out. Warren obviously doesn’t want others to know this information, so there must be someone it makes sense to.”

  “Agreed. And we’ll make sure it gets shouted in the streets. We’ll head out to Cape Triumph later this week.”

  “We?”

  “We,” he replied, giving me a pointed look. “I mean, we all know you’re a master fisherwoman, but there are parts of the Governor’s Highway that aren’t near water. I’ve got to go with you, if only so you won’t starve. Besides, I’ve got some things I wouldn’t mind selling in the city.”

  “Oh, well, if it’s that, then I don’t mind,” I teased. “I was worried you thought I couldn’t take care of myself.”

  “Don’t suggest ridiculous things, Tamsin. Now, if you want to stay in there, you’re going to have to let me get more water.”

  “Just something to dry off with.”

  He handed me a worn but clean flannel blanket and then moved away, keeping his back to me. I stepped out, dripping, and dried myself off before wrapping the blanket around me as a makeshift dress. Jago glanced over when I knelt by the trunk.

  “If nothing fits, feel free to just wear that.”

  “Jago Robinson, you’re the one who needs to stop suggesting ridiculous things.”

  “Right. Sorry. I’ll try harder to be a gentleman.”

  “Oh, it’s not that,” I said, lifting out a simple dress of sky-blue lawn. “It’s just that you’d never be able to get a lick of work done around here, and I could hardly live with myself.” Getting to my feet, I held the dress up to me. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a sewing kit in your treasure trove?”

  “I do—right over there, actually. I was trying to mend one of my shirts.”

  I peered at the pile of cloth he indicated. “‘Try’ implies you actually did something.”

  He shrugged. “I was getting to it. There’s just a lot to do. In fact, I’ve got to get back to work—can’t let Alexi dig those trees out on his own. And there’ll be no living with Felicia if she’s not groomed soon.”

  “What am I supposed to do while we wait to go to Cape Triumph?”

  “Whatever you want. There are books in the house to read. I’ve got things to write with. Or just relax. You’ve earned it.” He walked over to me, rested his hands on my shoulders, and kissed my forehead. “I don’t have heaps of jewels, but you can still practice being a lady of leisure.”

  I placed my palms flat on his chest. “Thank you, Jago,” I said softly. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me.”

  “You know why. I’m crazy about you. That hasn’t changed.”

  “After everything I’ve done to you? More like
just crazy.”

  “Same difference.”

  I inched forward and kissed him, my lips just barely grazing his at first and then moving in with more certainty. His fingers slid slowly from my shoulders, down along my bare arms, and finally settled around my waist. I reached up and hooked one of my hands behind his neck to bring us closer, my lips parting further. A rush of heat radiated through me, and taking one of his hands, I moved it up to the edge of where the blanket folded around me. His fingers immediately started to loosen it, and then he abruptly sprang back.

  “What?” I asked, startled. A bit of panic—and embarrassment—started to flicker in me, that I might have misread him. “I’m not judging you on gentlemanly behavior right now.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that.” His gaze pointedly flicked to where my hands had caught the blanket as it started to slip. “But you should be judging me on how sweaty I am. I’m the one who needs a bath now.”

  “Really? I didn’t notice. I was too busy looking at your beautiful face.”

  “You didn’t seem to be looking at it that much, but I get the sentiment.” He gave me another quick kiss on the forehead and then retreated toward the door, his eyes running over me one last time. “I’ll see you at suppertime.”

  I followed him to the door and leaned in its frame to watch him walk away. Or was he sauntering? It was hard to say, but I liked the way he moved. I liked the way he felt too, and my flesh still tingled from our brief encounter. After a few more moments, I sighed and shut the door. Wrapping my arms around myself, I looked around the tiny room and wondered two things. First, how exactly one went about being a lady of leisure. And second, how I ever thought I could be serious about anyone besides Jago.

  As it turned out, I could not, in fact, do the leisure thing so well. After hemming the blue dress, I continued on to mending Jago’s shirt. Then I found a few of his other clothes that needed cleaning, so I filled one of the smaller basins with water and soap to wash his laundry and mine. I didn’t know if the velvet could be salvaged, but I used every trick Ma had taught me.

  When that was drying, I poked around the shanty looking for other things that needed cleaning or fixing. Jago was a neat housekeeper, all things considered, though he also didn’t have much in his house that actually needed keeping. I found the writing implements and penned a letter to Merry. Just as I was taking down the laundry, the door swung open, and Jago rushed in with a small covered kettle. Behind him, the sky blazed orange.