Page 23 of Freeing Hook

He’s scowling, his black sleeves cuffed just below his elbows, his fists atop the map in the center of the table.

“What do you mean Cortland Rivers is married?”

“Worse than that,” says Evans, the slight young man who danced with me at my masquerade ball. He’s wincing, his dark brown skin wrinkled at his forehead. “He’s a newlywed.”

Captain Astor squeezes his eyes shut and digs into his temples with his Mated hand.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” says another—a fae man with golden hair and skin just a shade darker. He looks like the type of being an artist might choose as a muse if they were going to carve a likeness into the side of a mountain. Some people are just the sort of attractive that you know is going to withstand changes in fashion. “Can’t you just tell the Carlisles that you left your wife at home? That she’s afraid of the sea? Or that she fell ill? Or better, that she’s expecting?”

Charlie pipes up from across the table. “We could, Maddox, except that Cortland Rivers is Delphian.”

Maddox folds his tree trunks for arms across his chest. “And?”

“The Delphi have a custom that newlyweds aren’t to leave each other’s sides for the first year of marriage.”

A spindly red-headed man who looks as though he might have given away his serving of fruit one too many times, judging by his rotten teeth, whistles in disbelief. “Hate to be Delphian, then. The men have to give up the brothels for an entire year.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Yes, Teeth, what a tragedy that a man might be expected to remain faithful to his wife. For an entire year, no less.”

Teeth nods in agreement, Charlie’s sarcasm falling on rather dull ears. Though even I have to admit, Charlie’s voice is so cheerful, it’s difficult for me to tell she’s being sarcastic sometimes.

“Sorry to break it to you, Captain,” says Evans, “but we’re going to have to find another lead.”

“Or,” says Charlie, swinging herself onto the table—and the map—until a sharp glance from the captain has her swiftly hopping back onto the floor, “you could give up this quest altogether.”

A hush falls over the crew as Captain Astor rakes Charlie with his scowl. “I don’t anticipate hearing you mention that again,” is all he says, to which Charlie purses her lips, planting a hand on her hip.

Evans glances back and forth between them, the lantern light giving his deep brown skin a warm glow. “Charlotte has a point, Captain. I’d be amiss not to point out that there’s little in this for the crew.”

The captain sneers. “There is for anyone who wishes to remain on my crew.” He gestures toward the door. “You all know you’re free to leave anytime we port.”

Evans glances around at the others, like he’s trying to muster up support. I remember Evans seeming young when I first methim. Shy. I’d felt compelled to pay him attention because of how awkward and timid he was.

That was before he helped the pirates slit my guests’ throats.

When it’s clear that no one in the room wishes to take their chances on another crew, Evans stands down. He sighs and rolls up the map they had laid across the table. Then he glances at Charlie. “You’ll have to play the part of the captain’s wife then.”

Charlie snorts. The captain grunts. Maddox says, “That, I’d pay a thousand silvers to witness.”

When the captain gives Maddox a withering stare, the handsome man just smiles. “What? You might as well pour cement on a wet rag for all the spark you and Charlie have between you.”

Charlie nods emphatically.

Astor rolls his eyes. “We’ll play it off as an arranged marriage.”

Evans shakes his head. “It’s well known that Cortland Rivers would settle for nothing less than a love match.”

The entire crew, all but Charlie, groan.

“I could go with Charlie,” says Maddox, offering her a wink. Charlie actually flushes, her cheeks a sheet of parchment attempting to conceal a flame in a dim room.

Evans shakes his head. “The coloring of those golden locks of yours is too fair, Maddox. They’d know you weren’t Delphian.”

Charlie wilts, and Maddox narrows his golden brow. “Except my hair is only this color because I spend my days in the sun.”

“Yes, but perception is more important than reality when it comes to the aristocracy, isn’t it?” says Evans.

“We’ll just have to make do,” says the captain. Though his hands are still supporting his weight on the table, the space between his shoulder blades has sunken in. It seems his plan is slipping through his fingertips. Maddox glances back and forthbetween Charlie and the captain, looking as if he’s about to say something, but in the end, he keeps his mouth shut.

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