Page 7 of A Promise of Peridot
Something putrid rose in my throat at her words.
She’s right. You’re reprehensible.
It was even worse hearing someone else say it.
“But the girl was over the moon for you. She didn’t listen to a word.”
Amelia had intended to help Arwen, and now was more than willing to slice her in half to find the blade? “What changed for you?”
Amelia took one final swig and tossed the empty bottle into the depths of the captain’s quarters. The sound of shattering glass didn’t elicit as much as a blink from any of us. “Now my kingdom is in the hands of scum, my men are dead, and my capital’s sacked. So we do what we have to.”
The lantern above her pale white head had nearly winked out with the last swell. It sputtered for its life now, casting the cabin in jarring cuts of yellow light.
“We’ll have to be careful with Arwen when we arrive,” I said. “Now that Lazarus knows her name, what she looks like... he’ll have everyone in Garnet, Amber, and Peridot looking for her. Soon, the entire continent.” I ran a hand down my face. Keeping her safe was going to be an impossible task. “Nobody in Citrine can know who she is.”
“We’ll say she’s our healer,” offered Griffin. “It’s true.”
“For now,” Amelia hedged. “But, Kane...”
I knew where this was going, and I didn’t want to hear it. Not tonight.
Griffin saved me the argument. “Another time.”
“Fine,” she huffed, standing up with a wobble. “But we do have to talk about it eventually.”
“I’m not sure he can.”
“Oh, come on.” Amelia turned to me, hands splayed on the table to keep her upright. When I didn’t argue with Griffin, her eyes widened. “Kane’s a little obsessed with the pretty Fae girl, sure. But nothing could stop him from taking down his father. Freeing the people of Lumera. Freeingourkingdoms,ourcontinent. Right?”
Griffin didn’t say anything but glanced in my direction.
“Right?”Amelia asked me this time, incensed.
“Right.” I gave a bland smile. It didn’t matter what she thought. I had made my choice months ago, and would see it through one way or another.
Momentarily appeased, she teetered toward the hallway. “Good. I’m going to bed.”
I finished my bottle, as did Griffin, in grateful silence.
The first few lazy, soft rays of sun had begun to glint off the unruly ocean waves and filter into the cabin. My mouth was dry, I was properly drunk, and my stomach was starting to sour. I stood on weightless legs and staggered for the hallway. “I need to piss.”
There was no early sunlight in the shadowed hall, but Arwen’s cabin door jeered at me from the other end.
I wondered what she was dreaming of. Perhaps lilies. Or that grassy knoll outside her home in Abbington. Even though I reviled Amber, I itched to go there with her. I wanted to touch every single thing she had ever touched. Roll in the grass she had once lain on. I was like a dog with a scent. I wanted to bathe in her.
A petite body slammed into mine in the shadows, and Isteadied my hands on slim shoulders. Arwen, who always smelled like orange blossoms and honeysuckle. I hadn’t touched her in days. The contact made my mouth water.
I wrapped my hands tighter around those delicate shoulders for balance. The journey had shrunk her already slender frame. I was practically grasping shoulder blades. Covered in little freckles, like spots on a deer.
“Excuse me,” she said.
“You’re excused.”
“You’re wasted.” She wrenched free of my grip, and I stumbled a bit with the release and the swell of the ship. She opened her mouth to chastise me, her adorable, pouting mouth and furrowed brow dead giveaways of an incoming reprimand—but the ship rocked and she crashed awkwardly into me once more.
“Easy there.” I held her by the middle as the ground danced beneath us, frenetic and jerking, and Arwen gripped my chest as we braced through the tumult. I grazed her hip with my thumb. To stabilize her, I told myself. To keep her from falling.
“Stop that,” she snapped, steadying her hand against the wall beside me as another wave teetered us.
