Page 27 of Tangled Sails

Her chin pulled back and her brow lowered in confusion as she looked back at me. “Everyone knew.”

A startled breath hissed through my lips. Each time I believed I could not be more surprised, I was proven wrong. “What do you mean everyone?”

“The whole village. They knew where I lived. They came to see me…sometimes.” She looked away. “No one was ever upset by it.” There was a resignation and numbness to her tone that ate at my nerves.

The captivity of a young girl had not been cause for concern? “No one ever tried to help you?”

“Help me what? I wasn’t being mistreated. I just—”

“Being kept against your will is mistreatment,” I snapped.

She looked at me, her lips pinched and her eyes boring into mine as heavy emotion tugged on her features. For several seconds, she held my gaze, the only sounds those made by the skiff and the water. “It is?” she finally asked.

“Yes, Lyri. It is.”

She cut her eyes to the side, then nodded as a single tear slipped down her cheek. She looked…relieved?

The current pulled on the hull and I adjusted the steering oar.

I waited several moments, giving both of us time to collect ourselves. My temper was rising, and I had no wish to take it out on her. Though I was impressed she hadn’t cowered at my snapping. Most people did.

“What made you leave?” I finally asked. “What made you risk climbing down that tower?”

She swallowed and seemed to have gained her composure when she spoke again, though she was still turned so I could only see her profile.

“I had always believed that once I was old enough, my aunt would let me make my own decisions. I told myself over and over that once I had done enough, helped enough, obeyed her rules enough, that she would let me go. I believed that when I was old enough she would let me have a life, have a family.” Her eyes filled immediately with tears at the mention of family, and she turned to look at me as raw vulnerability swam in her eyes. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to be a mother for as long as I can remember. My dolls were my most precious possessions when my parents were living. I cherished them above all after I went to live with my aunt. Even at thirteen, I still loved to care for those dolls and dream of having babies of my own one day.” She swiped at her tears and turned to face into the breeze again. “But I turned seventeen, and nothing changed. Eighteen, and nothing changed. After I turned nineteen, I finally told her. I said I wanted a family, and I dared to suggest that I would leave the tower and live my own life.” She looked down at her hands. “The very notion incensed her. She called me selfish and ungrateful.”

I swallowed down all my indignation and tried to speak calmly. “What a backward notion.”

“What?” she asked, turning to look at me with hurt crimping her face, and I realized she might believe I was calling her want of a family backwards. But that wasn’t it at all.

“The idea that motherhood is selfish. That might be the biggest lie your aunt ever told you.”

LYRIELLE

I stared at his profile as he turned his face into the wind like I had been doing. He’d responded so confidently, and it was a relief to have that bit of evidence telling me that what I wanted might not have been unreasonable. In fact, it may have been Aunt Ethel who was unreasonable. And perhaps the villagers too.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone to protect you,” he said suddenly, but it was quiet enough that I almost didn’t hear it over the wind and the snapping of the sail.

I didn’t respond, too emotional to talk and unable to think of what to say as my heart filled with liquid warmth. Was this what it was like to have a real friend? Gregor had been my friend, but my aunt’s strict rules had dictated the depth of our friendship, and Tavric was making me realize how little I knew of genuine friendship. I’d had friends when I was a child, but I couldn’t skip rope or climb trees now that I was older, could I?

A sudden gust of wind tugged on the boat, and my attention was drawn to the vastness of ocean surrounding us. Trying to explain my life’s circumstances had distracted me from my nervousness, and now that we’d been bobbing on the water for several minutes, my fear had eased. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the side of the boat was soothing, and there was something thrilling about being out here with Tavric.

When he’d hooked his arm around my waist to bring me onto the boat, a strange bundle of nerves had knotted in my stomach. I liked being close to him, and yet the pleasure was almost uncomfortable because of how wild it felt. Were these the sort of feelings that came with true friendship? Or was it more? I couldn’t tell because I had nothing to compare it to. The upheaval inside of me could simply be caused by my complete lack of experience with courting—or even just human interaction.

Still, his protectiveness certainly added to that pleasant knot of nerves.

I looked ahead of us, raising a hand to shield my eyes against the sun. “Are we going to that little island?” I asked, turning back to him.

“Yes, we are.” A grin split his face, and I was so startled by its sudden appearance that I stared. I’d never seen Tavric grin before. He often had a kind smile for me, but he could also come across as gruff and serious. “It’s one of my favorite places to run off to when I want to be alone,” he admitted.

I wanted to ask him again why he had brought me with him, but instead, I spread my arms wide and reveled in the feeling of my shawl whipping around my arms and fluttering at my back.

As we neared the island, Tavric lowered the sail and used the oar to row us right up to shore, where we came to a soft stop on the sand.

Tavric discarded his shoes and encouraged me to do the same. As I removed my own footwear, I watched as he rolled his trousers nearly to his knees, looking more relaxed and content than I’d ever seen him. He jumped from the boat into the surf, then turned back, that same grin curving his mouth as he reached for me, sweeping me into his arms and lifting me from the boat as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His feet splashed through the lapping waves as he walked several feet and deposited me on sand. I think he was trying to help me avoid touching the water, which was so thoughtful that it confused me. He was constantly guessing at my wants and needs and then fulfilling them as best he could.

His kindness was disconcerting, and I suspected I didn’t deserve it.