Page 65 of Tangled Sails

He asked the question casually, as if it weren’t rewriting my entire childhood. Was that what Aunt Ethel had feared? If I truly was a descendent of the old royals who had ruled our land for hundreds of years… I supposed my magic could have made me a threat, at least in the eyes of the High Court.

But why was he pointing it out now? I was sure I didn’t want to know. “I was essentially enslaved anyway,” I told him.

“That’s probably best. You’ll be used to it.”

My heart pounded in my throat. “Used to what?”

He looked over at me, a grin pulling his face into a cruel mask. “The High Court pays a substantial reward for any magic wielder delivered to them.”

Fear washed over me as his words and his smug expression tilted my world.

“And when I give you to them,” he continued, “they’ll give me more money than I could spend in a decade.”

Tears streamed from my eyes while my mouth hung open, gasping for tiny bits of breath that my lungs didn’t want to permit. He was taking me back to Branfrie.

“Please don’t.”

He just smiled and looked off at the horizon.

I breathed carefully, swallowing down my terror. “You’re Tavric’s friend.” Surely that meant something. “You’re a good person.” Did he feel no remorse?

“You don’t know anything about me. And friends come and go, my dear. Earning the confidence of a prince served me well.”

“How did you do it?”

“I worked on plenty of merchant ships in Branfrie, so when I came here, I already knew how to sail. The prince loves being on the ocean.” He shrugged as though that explained it.

“And you’d betray him in such a way?”

I could only see a slice of his profile, but it was clear there was no sympathy or remorse in his expression. “Yes.” When he didn’t elaborate, the heavy silence saturated the air once more.

The wind was making me cold, but there was nothing with which to cover myself, so I just lay there, helpless and trembling. Healing had never made me so weak. I’d been so focused on letting my magic work through the king’s entire body that I hadn’t noticed how depleted I was until Tavric pulled me away. But then I’d been hit with a weakness and exhaustion like I’d never felt before. Maybe the king had been sicker than anyone I’d healed before. Maybe my magic wasn’t as strong now that my hair was cut.

Maybe, I thought as I stared up at the man who planned to deliver me to those who would enslave me, it didn’t matter.

TAVRIC

Lyri was gone.

My father was sitting up in his bed, awake and alert but very hungry. My mother hadn’t stopped sobbing. My brothers had shown up, asking questions and demanding answers, but I’d pushed them off, knowing I had to care for Lyri.

My sweet Lyri who had just saved my father’s life. Lyri, who was terrified that her gift would be discovered and used. I had to protect her. I had to be certain that she recovered from whatever had made her collapse. Surely it was just exhaustion. Healing a person had to be tiring, right? That just made sense.

But when I’d turned to search for her, she was nowhere to be found. My brow furrowed, and I pulled away from my family’s grasping hands and loud questions, looking around the room, waiting for Harlan to appear or for Lyri’s bright hair to catch my eye.

“Where is she?” I asked the room at large.

“Who, Your Highness?” a guard inquired.

“Miss Lyrielle. She was here.” I pointed at the ground. “She was ill. Harlan was watching over her. Where is she?” My voice rose as disquiet permeated my chest and weighed on my lungs.

“He carried her out, Highness. I assume he went to find a place to lay her down.”

I was out the door in a trice. The guard’s words made sense; I wanted Lyri to be comfortable. But…I’d told Harlan to stay put, hadn’t I? Maybe not. He’d said he’d watch over her. Maybe with all the chaos surrounding my father, he’d deemed it best to take her somewhere quiet.

My feet pounded against the stone floor as I hurried down the corridor, dipping in and out of shadow and sunlight. I asked everyone I passed if they’d seen Lyri or Harlan. A few had and pointed me in the direction of her old room. Maybe he’d gone there?

My father was going to live, I was sure of it, yet I couldn’t feel the exultation of that knowledge because Lyri’s absence had caused a deep-seated worry to burrow into my gut.