Page 10 of The Sea-Ogre's Eager Bride

He’s determined for me to admit that I’m a liar. But I just smile sweetly at him and lick my lips. “Never.”

Ranan rolls his eyes, and I can tell I’ve annoyed him again. He carves up the rest of the fish for me and disposes of the ends and innards over the side of the turtle once again and then rinses his hands in the water. His feet are huge but powerful as he grips the side of the shell where it slopes, whereas I practically have to lie upon my belly just to rinse my hands, because otherwise I’ll fall off into the waters below.

But I follow him to the edge and rinse my hands, and when I nearly tumble in (just as I suspected), he grabs the back of my dress and holds me steady. “Thank you,” I say, ignoring the fact that the fabric ripped in his grasp. It’s not his fault. “Will you teach me how to fish so I can get a large one for Lord Vor?”

Ranan doesn’t answer me. He studies the waters instead. “We are going to shore.”

“We are? Is that why your turtle is moving?” When he doesn’t answer, I prod, “Are we going someplace in particular?”

He shrugs, not looking at me. “Near a human settlement.”

“Oh, so you can sell your jewels? Do you need help with that? I’m happy to assist. I’ve gotten pretty good at haggling.” I give him a cocky smile. “I once talked the armor off a soldier headed to war.”

Ranan snorts, the sound full of derision. It’s clear he doesn’t believe me. “Stay here until we make land.”

As if I have anywhere to go?

It’s a long,lazy morning.

I have to admit, I’m not used to those. Mornings as a slave are full of early starts and endless chores. Even before, when I wasn’t a slave, I had to take care of my father’s house and feed the chickens. There’s nothing for me to do here, though, so I sit and admire the scenery, watching the view change from alarmingly rocky cliffs to sandy shores. I soak up the sunshine and finger-comb my hair, and it feels both odd and pleasant to sit around and do nothing. It’s jarring, of course, but…still nice.

Ranan works as Akara swims. He fills the strange-looking cage with more seaweed to dry, testing strands and removing ones that have crisped up in the sun. He weaves them into a long length that he stores away, and frowns at me when I ask what he’s doing. Then he works on sharpening his strange little knives and disappears into the waves again, swimming alongside the turtle for a time. He fills a barrel with a sand-based filtering system that pulls the salt from the water and makes it potable and keeps refilling it throughout the day so we both have drinking water.

I might as well not exist for all that he pays attention to me.

He’s just not used to having a wife, I remind myself. He’ll need time to get used to another person around.

We come upon a long, sandy stretch of shore with white beaches leading up to tall hills of vibrant green. I’ve heard the lands to the south of Aventine are nothing but dirt, that all the magic has been soaked up from the ground, leaving nothing able to grow. This obviously isn’t that place, but I don’t know where we are. There are a couple of broken-down-looking boats at thefar end of the beach, near some jagged-looking rocks, and a hut on stilts. Someone lives around here, then. A friend of Ranan’s?

Somehow, I find it difficult to think of Ranan as having friends. He barely speaks to his wife.

My face feels hot as the massive turtle steers towards the shore, jostling us when she climbs over a sand bank. I glance down at my bare arms and they’re reddened from the endless sunlight. I’m sure I’m going to hurt later, but for now, I’m just enjoying the warmth. I’d rather be warm than shiver, and since my only dress is getting worse by the day, I’ll be happy with nothing but sunshine.

The turtle skims her way into shallow waters and then turns slightly, settling into the sands. Waves crash against her shell, jostling the ground underneath my feet. I look over at Ranan, who wades out to the shore. “Can I go look around?”

He glances over at me, and I get the impression that he’d almost forgotten I was here. “Stay close.”

“I won’t go far,” I tell him brightly. “I just want to look around. Maybe find some pretty shells.”

Ranan makes a flicking gesture with his hand, indicating that I should follow. I move to the side of the turtle and slide into the water…and sputter when it goes over my head. I keep forgetting how very tall my new husband is. A large hand fishes me out of the water, and then an arm locks around my waist. He hauls me toward the shore like I’m a sack of grain and plops me down on the sand the moment we clear the waves. I cough, brushing my wet and wave-ravaged hair off my face. “Thank you.”

“Stay close to Akara,” he growls at me.

“Who’s Akara?”

He gives me an irritated look and stabs a finger at the turtle. Oh. The turtle has a name? Of course it does. Why wouldn’t a turtle have a name? Is it some sort of pet to him, then? More than just a moving island he lives atop? Perhaps Akara is allthese things, and I feel foolish for assuming that the turtle is nothing but a means of moving about. Even farmers name their chickens.

“Hello Akara,” I call out to the turtle from my spot on the shore. The creature doesn’t answer, but that’s not unexpected. I can’t even see its head from here. As I straighten, Ranan stalks down the beach. All right, that message is clear—we’re not spending time together.

At least now I have an entire beach to explore.

I spend the next while going up and down the small inlet beach, curling my toes in the warm sands. I’m thirsty, but Ranan didn’t leave the waterskin with me so I’m just going to have to wait. I do find shells, though. There are some large ones, bigger than my palm, and with a deep belly full of shine. I hold each one, determining if it will make a good cup. Two of them are very close in size, and I hold them up to my breasts, wondering if I can make myself some sort of corset with leather straps that will keep everything from bobbing.

The shells are so lovely that I can’t help but gather all of the ones that I find. There’s one that gleams iridescent in the light, and another spiky blue one that has a tiny hole bored through the center that would make a lovely necklace. Like a greedy child, I grip the edges of my dress to act as a sack, using it to hold all the shells as I wander about. Perhaps we can go to a market and I can sell my finds for a few coins at least. I’m sure people farther inland would pay for such charming oddities. They’d make great decorations, and I immediately start to think of all the things people could make with them. Bowls. Spoons. Candle-holders. Shiny bits could be sewn into the neck of a tunic?—

“Well, well, well!”

The voice is so raspy and unfamiliar it makes me jump. Several of the shells tumble out of my skirt and land on the sandsat my feet. I turn, eyeing the man that’s snuck up on me while I’ve been distracted with my finds.

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