Chapter 11:

  The Grand Admiral leaned on her desk and watched with a frown as Evander brought in the countess. The noblewoman hardly looked noble at all now; she was drenched in her own sweat, a bruise was forming on her left arm where the Admiral’s wooden sword had struck her. Her hair was still tightly bound in a pair of braids, but she had flyaway wisps of hair framing her round face. Despite it all, her stormy eyes remained focused, she moved with grace, and she still managed to be beautiful. Ael forced the thought down, though she remembered the heat in her own cheeks when the countess had whispered out a surrender.

  “Sit,” the Grand Admiral ordered, keeping her tone icy and detached. She could not afford distractions, not when the beautiful witch had ensorcelled her first mate.

  To her credit, the noblewoman did not bluster or compin. She simply sat in the chair, her head held high. The countess looked over her shoulder at the Admiral, as if to read her expression. The Admiral scowled at her darkly, letting her anger at the woman drown her lust. Then the noblewoman did the strangest thing; she put her arms behind her, as if she expected to be tied to the chair. Ael felt the wind leave her sails, and the anger disappeared in an uncomfortable flutter. She looked up at Evander, trying to read his expression, but he looked completely fbbergasted, his mouth open and his hands motioning wildly at the seated, calm countess.

  “I won’t fight, do what you must,” the countess said softly, the tiniest quiver in her tone before she turned her voice to ice.

  “Dragon’s egg sacks, what in the five hells do you think is happening?” The profanity burst forth from her before she could reign her emotions in. Cool but stormy eyes lifted up to meet hers.

  “Interrogation.” The word was succinct, but there was an entire story behind it. Ael had to force herself to breathe. She looked back up at Evander, seeing her own horror mirrored back. She motioned for him to go, fshing the sign for “tea” at him. He nodded and fled, taking care to close the door softly.

  “Please tell me that it was not my people,” Ael pulled her chair around from the other side of the desk. She could not loom over Nereida and hope for truth, not now. Nereida shook her head, lifted her skirt to reveal long scars on her legs. It looked as if hot metal had been held to her legs in several spots. Ael felt her stomach clench. Who did this to a person?

  “I was the guest to demons for a little over a year.” The countess was staring at a point on the wall past Ael, her expressions melting away to a mask of indifference. Ael had seen her grandmother and aunts use that expression, in the time before the war. It was armour. Still, the countess sounded far away and small. “My husband and I learned early that if we did as they said, precisely, that Alejo wouldn’t come to harm.” She hesitated a moment, swallowing. Finally she turned her head toward Ael. Ael could see the pain in the countess’s eyes, the haunted expression of a victim of great horror. “I have two children now, twice to lose. So, what do you want me to do or say?” Her voice broke on the st word, but she did not flinch away, did not hide her stormy eyes. This woman’s soft silk had hidden steel. Ael found herself impressed despite her horror.

  “I am no demon.” Ael lowered her voice, dropping her Admiral persona. She started to reach for Nereida’s hand, to comfort her, but thought better of it. She had no right, not after their battle and certainly not after she had managed to make the countess believe she would be “interrogated”.

  A moment of silence stretched between the two women as Ael grappled with her conscience. She needed to know what kind of spell the fiery witch had pced on her first mate, but not at the cost of the noblewoman’s mind. She was not a monster! Nereida made no further movements, save for breathing. She stared ahead at the wall, waiting for something, the only sign of her fear was the countess’s trembling lip. And Ael did not know what to do or say.

  Evander returned, the silver tray shaking in his hands as he pushed the heavy oak door open with his elbow. The clinking teaspoons pulled Nereida out of her trance. The Admiral straightened herself, taking the tea and quietly thanking her first mate. He nodded, motioning to the door. She gave him a curt nod and he scurried out.

  “Coward,” she muttered to herself. Nereida clearly heard her, looking up with a raised eyebrow. “Not you,” the Admiral huffed. Once the door was firmly closed, the Admiral pced the tray on her desk. “Tea?” She could smell the sharp mint. A good choice, given how frayed they both were.

  “It’s not poisoned, is it?” The countess had a teasing tone, but her eyes betrayed her fear. Ael picked up the little pot, showed the empty cups, and poured tea into both. She took a sip, slowly; the water was still too hot. Nereida reached out for the tea, her hands shaking. Ael realized the woman had revealed more than she meant to.

  “Does Alejo remember?” Ael kept her tone soft, her heart breaking at the idea of the sunshine-bright boy being tortured by demons.

  “No… He was small. We fled when I was carrying Egaz.” She took a slow sip. A tear trickled out, but the countess did not seem to notice she was crying. “I’m sorry, could we not? I… I don’t talk about those days.”

  “Of course, my apologies, Countess.”

  “Nereida.” The woman looked up, her beautiful, stormy eyes almost defiant. “Unless I’m no longer in the crew, please call me Nereida.”

  “Nereida.” It was not unpleasant to say her name, and Ael caught herself smiling a little. She schooled her smile when she remembered why she had the countess alone in her cabin. “We do need to talk. You cannot ensorcel the crew.”

  “He’s not ensorcelled,” Nereida replied, her tone almost petunt. She carefully pced the teacup on the desk, reaching past Ael. Her arm brushed the back of Ael’s knuckles, and it was enough that she could feel the magic vibrating through Nereida. It was definitely the same magic that she had felt on Evander.

  “No?”

  “We made a blood oath. He found out something and has to keep it secret. In exchange, I protect this ship, the crew,” she looked up, her eyes hard. “You.” There was a flicker of emotion that passed in the st word, and Ael could not read it all. Resentment perhaps, or jealousy. The quick expressions were too hard to decode.

  “Is this secret a danger to my crew?” The Admiral stood now, choosing to loom over the countess. The crew was everything, and if this secret was dangerous, she would leave the countess and her family at a port and return home. The countess flinched a bit, and focused her eyes into her p.

  “Only to me,” she paused for a moment, her shoulders falling. “And to my family. And I would do anything for my children. So please, forgive me, but I cannot share this secret. Not now.” She looked up at the Admiral, and made a motion as if she were going to move the stray hairs off of Ael’s face. She dropped her hand as if she had burnt it. “I… I will tell you this, however, so that we have no debt between us. Is that fair?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Basiano lied to your cousin. He had to.”

  “Why would he ever lie to my cousin?” She crooked her head to the side and then realized what the countess was saying. She might have shouted it. The countess knew she was of the royal line. Had she been told?

  “Because what self-respecting prince would forfeit the Crown Prince of another nation?”

  Arm bells screamed in the Admiral’s mind as she stared at the countess.

  “Does that make you…. Princess?” she asked, her voice strangled. Nereida smiled hesitantly, her eyes a little watery.

  “Yes.”

  Oh, fermented dragons‘ egg sacks.

  They were all going to die. Did the demons know what they had let slip through their fingers? Were they hunted?

  The Grand Admiral stared at the broken woman who had just admitted that she was princess of another nd. The witchy woman who had used magic on her first mate. The beautiful woman who held her sons while they cried, peeled potatoes below deck and had the strength to stand up and fight. The married woman who most certainly did not feel the same attraction she did. There was nothing else to be said, except…

  “Well, I suppose we best get you home then.”