Page 27 of Breath From the Sea
Antónia laughed bitterly. “We all know I’ve no love in my heart. I am the daughter of the Devil’s Hook. Black suits.”
Granuaille grunted. “He may be a harsh and wild man, but he loves your mother.” Granuaille touched the ring. “I never wanted ye to suffer as I have. Knowing no true love.”
Antónia swept her arm out toward the sea and smiled softly at her grandmother. “I have a true love, the sea.”
Granuaille touched her cheek, looking deep into her eyes. “Ah, but I think ye must have found another.”
With a violent shake of her head, she said, perhaps a little too harshly, “None.”
“But why was the ring black on your finger? It sensed your heartache.”
“I am not aching.” Something pulsed behind her ribs. The something she’d refused to think about the entire journey back to Ireland.
“Ye’ve never been able to lie to me. Why try?” Granuaille gazed down below. Sweeney was barking orders at the men, his face red as a fresh apple. “Is it Sweeney? Do ye love him? He seems angrier than usual.”
Aye, he’d been so angry aboard ship, she’d had to stop him from laying the lash into one of the men’s backs for dropping a bucket. “I love him like a brother.”
“Then who?”
Antónia chewed her lip. “’Twas a mistake, nothing more. We are both wrong for each other.”
“The heart does not always recognize what is right and what is wrong.” Granuaille tapped Antónia’s head. “Nor does the head.”
“This is very wrong. Trust me.” Antónia swiped at her hair.
“Tell me.”
“Ye will not like it.”
“Perhaps.”
“He is a captain in Elizabeth’s Navy.”
Granuaille let out an abrupt cough, or perhaps she was choking. “Ah, I see. Aye, he is very wrong.” The softness she’d shown about love a moment before was quickly replaced by rage. “No kin of mine will sully themselves with an Englishman.” Granuaille clucked her tongue in reproach. “And yet the ring says ye’re heartbroken. How can this be? How can ye love our enemy?”
“I don’t love him. And my heart will get over it.” Antónia let out a long sigh. Love… A fool’s emotion. “Take the ring, I want nothing to do with it. I need to rest.”
Antónia kissed her grandmother, and descended the ramparts, in search of her bed within the castle. With every step, she tried to push thoughts of Titus further and further from her mind, but they only seemed to grow larger until every breath constricted in her lungs, and her limbs itched to climb aboard her ship, not to plunder merchants, but to seek out the captain. Her bed was hard, uninviting, and she drank entirely too much whisky in order to finally fall asleep.
When she woke the next morning, a headache pounding behind her eyes, the ring was on the table beside her bed, taunting her.
“You did what?” Queen Elizabeth’s voice boomed through the velvet-draped walls of her privy chamber.
She sat upon her throne chair, face thick with white makeup, red hair piled high, and jewels sparkling from every inch of her gown and every finger. The starched white ruff around her neck looked confining enough to still even Titus’ breath.
Titus cleared his throat. “I allowed her to get away.”
“You allowed a lawless pirate to steal what belonged to the crown—and get away with it?”
He nodded, though technically his queen was giving the ring away, he wasn’t going to correct her on that point. Those in attendance tittered behind their hands, whispering of his failings. No doubt he’d be stripped of his position in Her Majesty’s Navy, his title and lands, and tossed in the Tower, heavily fined for the rest of his days—however numbered they were.
“I admit to playing the fool. She was very… persuasive.” Titus bowed before his queen, ready to take whatever punishment she exacted on him. Hoping that a swift death would dull the pain in his chest that grew with every passing hour.
But Elizabeth’s laughter was the last thing he expected.
And, apparently, it was not what the other courtiers expected either, as her reaction seemed to finally still their wagging tongues.
“Well, Lord Graves, if you were so willing to let the pirate wench take our ring, perhaps you’d be willing to take her in hand another way—through marriage, further solidifying our hold in that godforsaken savage land.” Elizabeth’s voice was calm, extremely clear.
