Page 42 of Tide of Waves and Secrets

We’d ridden a pelagor today. I calmed a larger portion of the sea than ever before, emboldened by a sign that may be nothing more than legend. One I hadn’t yet had a chance to tell Rowan about yet. Come to think of it, I’d not even shared the experience with Marek. And it was not because of what I’d done or the impact of my decision to challenge the queen.

The simple fact was, despite all that was happening, it was our kiss that I could not get from my mind.

“May I join you?”

The quiet question came from a man who rarely dined in the hall. A vaelith named Thalon whose long beard was braided and adorned with pearls.

“Of course,” I said as he sat.

Thalon’s gaze, so often distant as if the historian were lost in thought, was sharper this eve than most.

“There is talk,” he said to Rowan, “that you plan to remain for the Festival of Tides.”

The cup bearer filled Thalon’s glass, though he did not seem to notice. I thanked the servant for him.

“I do. I am Sir Rowan of Estmere and pleased to meet you?—”

“Thalon,” I provided. “He has resided in the palace for centuries and knows more of Thalassarian history than most. Do you remember,” I asked him, “when we first met? In Ventara?”

“Nerys,” he said to Rowan, “could be found in the Deep Archives more than any other in Thalassaria.”

“Not more than Thalon,” I argued. “Though I’m unsure why as he must have read every tome in its depths, more than once.”

The old man sighed, though did not disagree. “So tell me, Sir Rowan of Estmere, why are you here?”

Rowan was spared an answer as another of the palace inhabitants sat beside him, a beautiful woman, no more than twenty years older than me. Carys was a sharp-tongued Thalassari diplomat with light-brown hair, streaked with unnatural shades of red, and eyes like polished turquoise. It was rare for anyone to change their hair coloring, Thalassari highly valuing nature’s own contribution to how they appeared.

We sat together for meals often enough for me to know our energies did not align well.

“He is on a mission from King Galfrid,” she said, abrupt as always.

That earned her a look from Rowan that was one I did not often see from him. He had a right to be wary. Carys had long desired the queen’s attention, and received it, as one of her favorites. But that ambition had made her few friends at court.

“Indeed,” he said smoothly, “I am. But it seems you are at an advantage, knowing much more about me than I do you.”

If I didn’t know him better, it would seem Rowan was flirting with her. Somehow, I knew he was not. But Carys, as sharp as she could be, did not seem to realize it. Her painted red smile lacked any warmth.

When she did not offer her name, I provided it.

“Carys,” I said as a clam soup was placed in front of each of us. I looked to the dais, which was still empty. Odd. The first course was never served before the queen arrived.

“A human,” Thalon said, twisting one of the pearls in his beard, “on a mission for the Aetherian king? It would seem the return of his daughter has initiated some interesting alliances.”

To anyone watching, Rowan would not have appeared bothered in any way as conjecture around his presence swirled. Placing his spoon to his lips, he seemed more concerned with the soup in front of him than the discussion.

When he finished, Rowan responded casually. “I have met Princess Mevlida. She is every bit the woman one would expect of King Galfrid.”

If the others noticed he didn’t answer Thalon’s question, or respond to his observation, they forgot it quickly. Both asked him question after question about the princess, how she came through the Aetherian Gate, her father’s reaction and more. Some questions, he answered. Others, he evaded, telling them even less than what he’d told me.

But many additional questions remained. Why did Galfrid send Rowan on such an important mission? Though Rowan had admitted there were things he could not tell me, he had never hinted at what those things might be. The more I got to know of him, the more certain I was that Rowan held back more than he shared.

When the main course was served, I finally interrupted their questioning.

“The queen is not attending the meal?”

Thalon did not appear concerned. After all, the queen missed as many meals as she attended. That she’d summoned Rowan and I to be here, though, was exceedingly odd.

“We’d not be eating already if she was,” Carys said.

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