Page 63 of Fate of Echoes and Embers
“Also never claimed to be a gentleman either.”
It was true, of course. And part of Marek’s appeal.
“No,” I said, “it does not feel that way at all. That was…”
Oh, that grin. He already knew it was divine. Incredible. I would not confirm it.
“Fine.”
His laugh startled a gull that had been about to land on the railing. It thought better of such a plan and flew away.
“It was more than fine, sereia. And will be if you allow me to do it again.”
My core clenched at the very thought of such a thing. Marek had a way of turning the conversation to his advantage, every time.
“That is, perhaps, something we should discuss,” I said, giving up the idea of attempting to describe the feeling of nearby magic as it was difficult to put into words.
“Ease the helm to starboard just a touch. Feel the current shift beneath us.” I did as he said, easily able to feel the current shift as he mentioned. “Good, just like that. Hold steady there.”
“A ship,” I said, spying a dot in the distance.
Marek looked up and headed to the railing, cursing under his breath. “Gyorian,” he said.
“How can you tell from so far away?”
“The sails,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Gyorians favor a square rig with black trim… efficient for speed, but distinct.”
“You can see all of that, from here?”
“Look carefully at the way she moves. What do you see?”
It still appeared like a dot in the horizon, but it seemed to be moving quickly. “Is it fast?”
His eye lit up. “Well done. Their hulls are sleeker, built for cutting through the waves like a blade.”
“Do you think there’s something on that ship that carries a special kind of magic?”
Before I even finished, Marek was shaking his head. “They are a band of Gyorian smugglers; the only special magic they can manage is moving goods under the nose of unsuspecting Aetherian watchmen.”
“Are they dangerous?”
“The only danger you’re in at the moment is falling under my spell, especially if you keep staring at my mouth like that.”
The gall. “I was not?—”
He jested with me.
“You are attempting to distract me from my earlier question.”
Marek reached for my arm, pulled me toward him, and kissed me so thoroughly, I did forget what I meant to ask him. But then it came to me.
Pulling away reluctantly, I remained in his arms, looking up at him.
“I agree,” he said. “We should discuss this.”
“So you didn’t forget.”
“I forget nothing where you are concerned, Issa.”
