These Gilded Seas

Chapter Thirty-Two: Heated Proximity

Magnus offers me a hand as I climb up the gangplank and onto the ship. It's eerily empty, at least compared to the last time I saw it. I glance around at the other ships rocking in the shallow waters. None of them have people abroad. They must've gone into the city for the night.

By now, it's a gray dusk. The sun has disappeared behind the horizon, and his sleepy light illuminates the water and sand. Gulls flying overhead are slivers of black against a pale blue and pink sky peppered with white puffs of clouds. Eero's ship smells like salt, woodstain, sand, and oil. I take a slow, deep breath and look around for the prince.

I find him leaning against the mainmast, gazing out at the infinite sea. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he has his head propped back against the wood. My footsteps must give me away because he turns his head slightly to look at me.

"Did you get everything you needed?" he asks, pushing off his prop.

I wish he hadn't seen me yet. Eero's fun to observe when he doesn't know you're watching. The faces he makes, like when he furrows his brows in concentration during training or when his tongue sticks out slightly as he sharpens a sword, are better entertainment than the books in my grotto.

I like looking at him; that much has always been true. Even when I despised him, thought him nothing more than a monstrous human, his attractiveness couldn't be denied.

But now, I also like seeing him, and that's the scariest revelation.

"I did," I say with a nod. "And I got us some food. Since we're missing supper."

Eero returns my nod with one of his own and smiles softly. The expression doesn't quite reach his eyes, though. Without asking permission, I set his bag down and roll two short barrels over to him. Eero fetches one of the larger ones to serve as a table, and I lay the food out for us.

"You didn't have to spend your money on me," Eero says tiredly. "I would have eaten when we got back."

"And annoy Madam Amaia when you called for a late supper?" I tease. "No, thank you."

I expected him to laugh at that. To smile. Something. Anything, really. But he just nods and puts one of the fish filets into his mouth. I watch him chew, watch how he never looks at me, how he keeps his eyes on the water. He's not even looking at that, though. His mind is somewhere else as he disassociates, blankly staring.

His worry is contagious. I eat a few of the strawberries, but my stomach turns inside out with concern. Is he going to confront me? Blame me for the fish shortage? For Papa's obvious attacks?

Am I really to blame?

I don't know.

Maybe I should have told Papa the plan. Maybe I should have left a note. Maybe I shouldn't have gone to Zula in the first place.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

So many unknowns and open-ended situations.

I'm here, and I've obviously created an issue. This one can be solved, though. It's not a blood contract with a warlock. I came here to save my people. Now Eero's are intertwined with mine, two threads weaved together. I can unravel this mess. I have to.

"Who are you?" Eero suddenly asks, shattering the silence with his sharp question.

I glance up from my food. "What—what do you mean?"

His hands fall into his lap. "I know what you are, Ari. I've known that from the first time I saw you in the palace, at the bottom of that staircase. Did you honestly think I wouldn't recognize you?"