Page 24 of Fate of Echoes and Embers
My mother will take me to join her if I do so.
I ate without tasting, sitting back in the wooden chair, which was secured to the floor beneath it, thinking back to when I’d first met Marek. For days, I had all but neglected my duties, spending every waking moment with him. Walking the castle grounds, with Marek. At first, it had been easy enough to pass off that time as the lady of the manor entertaining a guest. But the more time we spent together, others began to notice it was something more.
We spoke first of the amulet, Marek initially skirting his procurement of it. Eventually, he admitted to dealings that some might question. But we also spoke of our past, Marek’s much longer and more interesting than my own. He had risen through the ranks after growing up in port, his father a sailor, his mother a pearl diver.
Eventually, we spoke of our past relationships, his more extensive than my own, of course. I’d admitted to being a virgin still, not having ruled out the need to use my innocence as a bargaining tool one day. Estmere’s politics were unstable, at best, even without a brewing war with Gyoria.
But one thing he never discussed was his mother. Aside from mentioning that she, an experienced Thalassarian pearl diver, had drowned. Marek had been willing to share everything about his life, even the sordid parts, but the few times I attempted to learn more about his family, his characteristic grin would falter and Marek changed topics. Every time.
My mother take me to join her if I do so.
I knew without asking his words were more significant than, perhaps, anything Marek had ever said to me before. And yet… this was the same person who had kissed me in a way I’d never been kissed before. He had asked for my permission, and I had given it gladly.
I touched my lip, like I’d done the day he left, and many days afterward, as if able to feel that kiss so many years later. I always wondered how someone could kiss me in that way but then leave without a word. The answer? “That kiss” meant something different to me than it did to him. I still felt foolish for believing otherwise.
And despite telling myself it was Marek’s issue, not mine, that could prompt such cruel treatment… a part of me felt foolish still since when I woke and saw him standing there, I imagined him kissing me again.
By the time I tidied up and went above deck, the sun was high, the water calm. There was no sign of Kael and Mev, but Marek was in his usual spot on the quarterdeck behind the ship’s wheel. He looked every bit a Navarch, a distinction even humans could appreciate. It meant there were few in all of Elydor who could command the seas as well, an honor typically reserved for thaloran who had been alive for over five hundred years.
He didn’t seem to notice me as he stared out to sea. Hesitating, and then reminding myself it would be impossible to avoid him, I made my way across the deck, its floorboards creaking softly under me. The sharp tang of salt air mixed with the scent of oiled wood and rope was oddly comforting. I’d left my cloak below deck, not thinking to need it during the day, but the wind whipped at my tunic. I hesitated again, adjusting my balance to a sudden rolling motion that was both liberating and unsteadying at the same time.
Climbing a narrow and well-worn set of wooden steps, I gripped the railing as the ship lurched slightly with a shift in the current. Once at the top, I sucked in a breath at the sight from this vantage point, the Veiled Sea stretching endlessly around the ship. Even more magnificent? Marek’s eyes were now trained on me.
“You’ve got your sea legs already. Impressive.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you had seen me creeping across the deck.”
His gaze was as appreciative as it had always been when Marek looked at me. Many years of noticing women, no doubt, had honed that particular look.
“I saw you the moment you emerged from below deck, Issa.”
I was not worldly when it came to men, but I knew any hint of interest would encourage Marek’s natural flirtatious tendencies. And, historically speaking, resisting the captain’s flirtations was not one of my strengths. So I made no response.
“Here.” He removed his cloak. “On the quarterdeck, the wind will cut through to your bones, even on the balmiest of days.”
I tried to ignore the scent of him, a familiar one of faintly spiced, sun-warmed leather and sea, as he wrapped his cloak around my shoulders.
“Come on then,” he said, nudging me to take his spot behind the wheel. “You are the captain ofTidechasertoday.”
I stepped forward. My heart raced at the possibility of doing something I’d dreamed of since hearing Marek explain the thrill of attempting to control something as massive and unpredictable asTidechaserat sea.
As my fingers lay on the wooden wheel, worn smooth from years of use, I looked to Marek for guidance. He stood beside me as I reached up to tuck loose strands of hair behind my ear. The wind was stronger up here than it looked.
“It will resist you at first.”
I understood immediately what he meant. “I can feel the tension in the ropes,” I said, not convinced the ship would listen to my command.
“Just remember, the ocean isn’t a still force. It will tug, pushing back like a living thing. Because it is. Respect it, and it will obey.” He grinned. “Sometimes.”
It was impossible to ignore Marek’s easy grin.
“Should I do anything more?”
Marek shook his head. “Not yet. Simply feel the weight of the wheel beneath your hands.”
Seemed clear enough. “So, how does one respect the sea?”
Marek’s grin deepened, a flash of white against his sun-warmed skin. He stepped closer, resting a calloused hand on the wheel beside mine, his fingers brushing the polished wood.
