Page 4 of Tangled Sails

No, I wouldn’t fall. I’d been practicing. I was good at clinging to the rocks. My grip was strong. My toes knew how to find the right holds.

I took my bundle of belongings and tied it to the back of my belt. This was it. I was going. There had only been two visitors to my tower today, both with small injuries, so I still had my strength. I glanced over my shoulder, at the shadowed figure of Aunt Ethel still sleeping soundly in her bed that blocked the door that only she was allowed to pass through. She’d been my only comfort and companion since my parents died, and I would miss her. I knew that much, but it wasn’t enough to make me want to stay, not when she would never allow me to have anything more than this set of rooms. My life was so small, and the world outside was so big. I wanted the chance to discover at least a portion of it, to meet new people, to make a family—to make my own choices.

“Goodbye, Auntie,” I whispered, feeling as though there should have been more to say, but unable to find any more words.

I threw my leg over the banister, got a good toehold, and then let my other leg follow.

I was going, and I couldn’t hesitate. I was strong, but the longer it took for me to scale the tower, the more my strength would wane. So I settled my weight on my feet and extended my arms to lower my body. I moved my feet down to new holds, then gathered my courage, my heart beating out of my chest, and released one hand from the banister. I found a grip on the rocks easily, then did the same with my other hand. It felt familiar and secure. I’d been right to think it would be much the same as climbing the walls inside. I could do this. My body was strong.

I lowered myself again and again. Foot, foot, hand, hand. My hair tugged gently at my scalp as more of my hair was pulled over the ledge of the balcony. I was making steady progress, and I wasn’t worn out. This would work.

I moved down again, and there was a sudden rushing beside me. Glancing over, I saw that instead of my hair being pulled over the ledge a little at a time, it was falling like water, tumbling toward me all at once. I had the shortest moment of realizing my mistake, and I gripped the wall tighter, hoping that when the full weight of my hair pulled at my neck, I’d be strong enough to hold on.

The weight came, my head was viciously jerked back, and my fingers failed me, losing their grip on the stones. Nothing to hold on to. Nothing but air around me. In all my practice climbing, I’d never climbed with the full weight of my hair pulling on me.

And I was going to die for that mistake.

Chapter two

TAVRIC

I leaned my forearms on the railing of the ship and looked out over the swells as the moonlight glinted off the water. We’d been out all day, inspecting coastal fortifications. Most of the watchtowers had been well maintained, but there were a few repairs needed, as well as a lax garrison commander who would need to be disciplined.

It was a beautiful night for sailing, but Harlan had shaken his head at me when we’d finished our inspection and I’d told him to steer us farther out to sea. My crew found my propensity for sailing at night odd, but it was where I found the most calm. And since we were already out on the water, I didn’t feel bad about taking a few extra hours to clear my mind and look for telltale signs of life in the water.

We’d been sailing out in open water for more than an hour, and the crew had left me alone for the most part, knowing my preference for solitude. But now Harlan was approaching, a spyglass in hand. “I assume you’ll want this,” he said as he held it out to me.

“Thank you.” I was quick to hold it to my eye and scan the water.

“Any chance you’ll tell me what you’re searching for?”

I gave a shrug. “Nothing in particular.”

He scoffed.

I cut my eyes over to him and raised a brow, silently waiting for him to speak his mind.

He ran a hand through his ruffled hair and over his beard that had just a few strands of gray in it. He was ten years my senior and had been the one to teach me how to sail. As my first mate and my friend, I trusted him, but I didn’t tell him everything. “You’ve been searching for something ever since your birthday.”

I looked away. He was right, of course.

“You ever going to tell me what it is so I can help you find it?”

I tapped the spyglass against my palm, debating for several moments. “Not it,” I finally confided. “Who.”

His brow shot up. “You’re looking for someone?”

I nodded. “When I went overboard on my birthday, I didn’t make it to shore on my own.”

He faced me more fully. “What does that mean?” There was an edge to his tone, and I couldn’t blame him. I’d given everyone the scare of their lives that night. Having the crown prince disappear overboard on his twenty-fourth birthday wasn’t on anyone’s to-do list.

“You remember how inebriated I was.” I stared at my hands, remembering how I’d sailed off on this ship, seeking the oblivion of salt spray and drink after my father had told me about his condition.

“Of course I do. I also remember seeing you fall into the ocean when you got in the way of that yardarm.”

I fingered the raised scar at my hairline, still embarrassed that I’d been worse than useless when the storm had come up. “I didn’t lose consciousness, but it was dark and I was disoriented.” It had been terrifying, and for just a few moments, I thought I might drown. But then a set of arms had looped around my chest and started towing me to shore, and I’d let them. “I didn’t make it to shore on my own. Someone helped me.”

He looked baffled. “Who?”