Page 158 of Blood of the Stars

What use was being a prince if he had no power?

A knock sounded on his door, pulling him from his stupor at his bedroom window. Clothes and books had lain scattered across the floor ever since he’d started refusing to let the maids in his room. The pillows on his bed formed a miniature Mt. Vescano, blocking his view of the door.

The knock came again, signifying that it wasn’t Enla, who would have barged in by now.

“Come in,” he called, turning back to the window, eyeing the statue of Queen Amaya, swearing her eyes held judgment at they looked up to his.

The door scraped open.

“You have a visitor,” one of the guards announced.

Gaeren frowned. Who would be visiting him?

He supposed it could be Lenda. She’d come a few times at Enla’s request to keep the people from growing suspicious. With her handmaiden’s watchful eyes and listening ears, Gaeren hadn’t been able to ask Lenda about Enla’s plan for their bond. Besides, what good would it do? At least the guards hadn’t caught Daisy’s group. They were likely halfway to Myndren by now, riding along the Northern Sea’s coast.

His heart swelled at the thought of being near the open water, dining on fresh fish.

“Prince Gaeren?” The guard spoke again, drawing Gaeren’s gaze from the window. Oh, right. A visitor.

“Who is it?”

“I believe he’s your first mate.” The guard’s gaze shifted uneasily. “He, ah, he wouldn’t give us his name. He, well, he growled, after which he said something to the effect of ‘who else would show up for the boy?’”

The hint of a smile tugged at Gaeren’s lips.

“He has tattoos on his arms as well as his shaven head.”

“He’s bald,” Gaeren corrected. “And send him in.”

The door burst open before the words had finished leaving Gaeren’s lips. The guard tensed, reaching for his sword.

“I have hair where it matters.” Larkos patted his chest. He stopped just inside the room, looking around in disgust. “Never would have guessed you lived in a hovel after all the times you’ve made Breeve swab the deck.”

“He’s fine,” Gaeren said, waving the guard away before pulling a chair from his desk and offering it to Larkos with a flourish. “I thought that if I let it get bad enough, Enla might decide I’m mentally unstable without time at sea.”

Larkos squinted after the guard, waiting until the door latched. “Are you in trouble?” he whispered.

“No more than usual.” When Larkos remained standing, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, Gaeren shrugged and sat in the chair, propping his bare feet up on the desk. “How did you get all the way down the hall? Enla might be interested in demoting someone for that.”

“I’m not sure they would have announced me otherwise. I’ve been trying to see you for half a moon. I’m guessing I’m on some sort of blacklist.”

Gaeren snorted. “That’s nothing new. Enla isn’t a fan of sailors. Thinks they’re all pirates. Besides, if you’ve come to tell me the ship’s ready, it’s too late. Enla has me on a leash.” He glared at the bottle of wine just out of reach on his sideboard.

Larkos leaned against the desk, knocking Gaeren’s feet to the floor. “I’m not playing around. Ever since you told me about the priestess and the girl, strange rumors have been coming through port.”

“What kind of rumors?” Gaeren tipped his chair and leaned precariously to grab the bottle and a glass.

“Mostly the same crazy things you told me about a dragon. The people aren’t stupid. They know they’re not being told the whole story. But instead of finding the truth, they’re filling in the gaps with their own ideas. A few say it was the Recreants, but most say it was the king keeping his people in line. Others say it’s Mayvus. They whisper about her being a witch, but no one says it too loud. Not after your father made her a queen.”

Gaeren poured the wine, watching it swirl in the glass. News had traveled far faster than his father had anticipated. And yet none of it had reached Gaeren before now. Were they continuing to keep him out of the loop?

“What about the girl?” Gaeren tried to keep his tone even, pushing down the terror clawing at his throat, but the effort was a waste thanks to his trembling hands.

Larkos reached for the glass, which Gaeren passed over. Larkos downed the whole cup, not bothering to savor it the way nobles did. Gaeren shrugged, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking his own long swig.

“No one seems to know about the girl,” Larkos said.

Gaeren let his eyes drift shut. At least she had that in her favor.

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