Chapter 13

  The ntern in their circle was bright and warm. After the heat of the day had died down, it was pleasant outside. The wind had slowed, deying their progress slightly, but they had plenty of supplies. It was not time to tax Epelda. The adolescent girl was leaning into Ael. She had given much the st few days, and had also been fretting endlessly over Ael. She was touched by her not-quite-daughter’s devotion.

  An hour after sunset, Nereida left her cabin and came to join them. As before, Evander moved to the side, giving the princess his seat. The word swam in her head. She watched Evander’s scramble. He knew her rank. The signs were there now.

  “Good evening, your grace,” he muttered as he slid back to sit on his husband’s p. The Admiral felt a surge of anger. Not even signs, he was not even being subtle! How had she missed it?

  “Admiral,” Nereida greeted as she sat down. She was dressed down again, wearing simple clothing. She moved in them as if they were the clothing she had always worn. What prompted a Princess to py dress-up? Dress down? “Epelda.” The young girl smiled at Nereida.

  Story time began. Evander opened today, his pleasant baritone voice calling all to the “fire” and welcoming all.

  “Peasant and princess be welcome here,” he finished, the lyrics of the song altered slightly from “lord and dy be welcome here.” The altered line was met with ughter from some of the older members of the crew. One cpped the Admiral on the back and she had to restrain herself. They thought she was the princess of Evander’s song! She gred at him, but he just smiled, the scar over his eye tightening, and shrugged. Oh he was going to pay for that!

  The next few songs were rambunctious numbers, and ale began flowing. She always kept some stores, but the rule was simple; no ale until after the first catastrophe. It kept her people from overindulging. She had long ago stopped drinking it. She kept wine in her cabin for special occasions, and drank small beer when she was ill but the ck of control brought by excessive drinking was simply unacceptable.

  Nereida stepped up and the crew quieted. Each of her stories was new and that was to be treasured. Ael shifted uncomfortably on her stool. What if Nereida id bare their conversation? The scent of the ocean and of unwashed bodies was nearly overpowering now. As the hush settled over the crew, it seemed even the ocean slowed to hear her story.

  “Long ago, there was a Princess of Fire. Unlike the rest of her family, she could not call to the stars to bring fire or foresight. Her hair was bck as coal and did not flow or shine. She was othered by her father, made to feel less, though her brothers and her mother attempted to make her feel loved. And for a time, they did.

  “But little girls grow up.” The Admiral found herself looking at Epelda, her pale hair almost red in the mp light, her eyes drowsy. Ael gently, silently, encouraged the young Sylph to put her head on her shoulder to rest. “And so the Princess felt the desire to find a different kind of love. She had no desire to be a caged bird or a trophy for a prince.” Evander made a strangled noise. The Admiral turned to shush him, but the first mate would not meet her gre. Just as well, she was still annoyed at him.

  Nereida stepped off her stool.

  “I would like to tell you that the Princess found what she wanted; true love, someone who understood her deeply, who cherished her, who listened when she spoke and saw her for her. And she tried so hard to find it. She left the pace with her mother’s blessing but without telling her father. She used pace gold to secure a ride on a merchant’s ship, and she left her home on grand adventures.

  “But the princess had a fw; she believed everyone was good and kind, because all she had known was goodness and kindness. And so, when she, pretending to be no more than a merchant’s daughter, met a man, and he treated her with goodness and kindness, she fell for him. But as they spent more and more time together, the princess saw her friends less and less. He told her married women had few friends, that they kept house for their husbands. And she believed him. Why would her love, her husband, lie?

  When she gave birth to a son, she told him the truth of who he was. She wanted to go home, to show her mother and father that she had found happiness. She had expected anger, for she had lied to him for so, so long. She did not see anger in his eyes, however. The eyes that looked down into hers were full of cunning. Her husband leaned in, kissed her possessively, and whispered words she would never forget.

  “Then I can stop pretending. You’re better sold than kept.” There was no tenderness or love in his voice. She tried to leave. He beat her, bound her, and took them both into the wilds, hoping to find a patrol of demons to sell her to. The price she would fetch would keep him comfortable for the rest of his life.

  “I would love to tell you this ends happily, that she escapes him in the wilds, that she lives among those who truly love her. But this is not that story. The demons did indeed find them, but when she could not bring fire or prophecy, they beat her, bound her, and kept her and her worthless husband both. She died a thousand times; her dreams, her hopes, her sense of self. The princess was gone, but a survivor remained. She found comfort where she could. Praying and pnning, awaiting escape.”

  Nereida moved to sit down but a voice cried out to her.

  “Please! Don’t end it there! What happened to the princess?” Ael stared at Nereida, taking in the woman’s trembling hands, her pale face and she let out a hiss. How much of this story was true? She knew Nereida was a samander, despite her bck hair. Had her torture woken her power? And why did she protect her husband still, if he had treated her so? Or was Basiano her second husband? Why did she not wear her wedding bracelet since the incident with the storm? So many questions, Ael wondered if she was drowning in them. Nereida looked out at the gathered crowd, her face flickering in the mplight. A thousand little emotions pyed across her face, but she stood back up to give the tale another ending.

  “The demons made an error.” The lilt Nereida usually used to tell stories had hardened into something almost malicious. Ael held her breath. This wasn’t a made-up story. This was Nereida’s own tale! “They took the small family to sea, pnning to take them to their great isnd far away. The survivor knew that if she set foot on their shores, there would be no hope, no return. And so, tied to the mast, her son and husband at her side, she began to sing. She sang the Forbidden Song that all who dwell by the sea know. She sang loud and clear and true. The demons did not know the song, the Siren’s Call, until it was too te. A score of Sirens, whipped into a fury by her song, scuttled the boat. They boarded, fury and pain in their eyes. No demons lived; they drowned on their deck, begging for mercy. The Survivor did not beg for herself, but begged they spare her son. The Sirens, moved by something she said, or perhaps by her tears, spared only the mother and her son, leaving them on a beach. They had, at st, a chance for new life.”

  The story finished, Nereida sat down beside Ael without another word. Ael saw the princess had tear tracks on her face. Wordlessly, Ael reached out and took the countess’s, the princess’s, hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She was pleased when the other woman squeezed back, entwining their fingers together. Neither of them moved to break the connection, content to take comfort in each other. Ael’s heart raced at the prolonged content. If even half of the story was true, this princess, this survivor, had been through too much.

  The next song, to break the mood, was as dirty as could be. Ael barely heard it, barely registered anything, except that Nereida had not moved to let go. Ael did not want to be the first to let go either. She tried to ignore the little voice in her head that insisted Nereida was married, that pursuing her would be a political act, that she was a Samander, because for a moment, one shining little moment, Ael felt content. For one moment, she let herself believe that Nereida could love her back.

  Ael knew she was setting herself up for heartbreak; that in the light of day, when emotions had soothed, she would be nothing more than the Admiral to Nereida. But for now, for this one moment, she was happy to pretend.