Page 189 of Sword & Sacrifice

A heavy thunk sounded on the deck behind Echo. They turned and sighed in exasperation. “You’re lucky that’s your own trunk and not the supplies we’re supposed to be shipping!”

Emmaline hurried up the ramp to see what had happened. Koen bent over his popped open trunk, scowling as he scooped clothes back into it. She knelt beside him and helped him clean up the mess.

He paused, one hand clutching a shirt, and looked up at her with big brown eyes. “Are you really leaving?”

“Yes, I’m going home,” she replied, unable to suppress her smile at the thought.

“I thought you were staying for a while,” he muttered. “Didn’t the captain bring you here to keep your safe?”

“She is safe now, you dolt,” Echo replied, thumping Koen on the back of the head.

“You don’t know that,” Koen insisted, wringing the cloth in his hands until it was hopelessly wrinkled. “What if her father comes looking for her again?” A mulish expression scrunched up his features as he insisted, “If you stay here, I can protect you.”

“I’ll protect you,” Echo mimicked in a high, mocking voice. “Your brother is the king, you’re”—Echo poked Koen in the forehead and pushed, forcing Koen to wobble backwards—“barely a princeling. You can’t protect anyone.”

“That’s not true! I held my own against the pirates,” he grumbled, “and I’ll be king one day.”

“Unless your brother has children, then you’ll be stuck as a little prince for life.”

Koen frowned as if he hadn’t considered that possibility.

“Fat chance of that happening,” Griselda said. “Why are you all lazing around?” She poked Echo with her boot. “Make yourself useful and grab a crate. I want to get home before the first snow, and that won’t happen if it takes us all day to load the ship.”

“If you’re so eager to leave, why aren’t you helping?” Echo demanded, brushing Griselda’s boot away.

Griselda lifted her shirt to expose a row of bandages.

Emmaline inhaled sharply at the sight. Was she injured in the battle?

“No heavy lifting,” Griselda replied smugly. “Medic’s orders.”

“You beheaded a man just last night!” Echo argued.

Griselda waved away their complaints. “Heads weigh hardly anything. Food, however, weighs a great deal. So, go on.”

Emmaline finished helping Koen pack up his trunk and carry it down a ramp, where two of the palace staff took it off their hands and carried it inside to his new rooms. Instead of following them, Koen grabbed one of the waiting boxes and carried it onto the ship.

While they helped load up the ship, he asked her about Arnsveld and chattered about his own home. “Parts of Denholmstead get snow, especially near the border, but not where we lived.”

“I’ve never seen snow,” Echo replied. They peered around the crate they were carrying with Emmaline, their eyes crinkled in delight. “Maybe I’ll take some shore leave and visit Arnsveld with you.”

Emmaline’s breath caught in her chest at the idea. Was Echo being serious or only teasing her?

Koen scowled and grumbled, “I could come with you too.”

“Oh, have you given up on being a king already?” Echo sneered. “Probably for the best.”

Koen’s scowl deepened. “Of course I haven’t. You’ll see—one day, I’ll be the best king Bellacosta’s ever seen.”

“How would your brother feel if he heard you talking like that?”

Koen clamped his mouth shut, then looked around as if he expected Silas to sneak up on him. When he didn’t see any signs of his brother eavesdropping, his shoulders relaxed and he muttered, “Silas would understand what I mean. Every king should be better than his predecessor.”

Echo rolled their eyes. Once they’d set the crate down on the deck, leaving other crew members to store it below, they asked, “What’s snow like? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Cold,” Koen grumbled.

Emmaline smiled at the description. “He’s not wrong, but when the sky clears and the sun bathes the snow in light, the whole world sparkles.”