Page 89 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

If I could only trust you again,Nola thought, a bit wary of his touch.

“I—” Lincoln closed his eyes slowly because looking at her honey-colored eyes stopped the words from coming out of mouth, “—I have something I must now confess.”

For that following hour, Lincoln told the siren girl his story.

He was born in a palace as Prince Tristan of Zemira. His mother, Queen Serena, brave and valiant, sought to save their kingdom by working with the Fae. The day he turned eight, his mother shared her plan with him. She wanted to rescue her children from the king and set sail to the Eastland Forest to live among the Fae. But to gain their trust, she wrote a letter, warning them that the king was coming for them. And the young boy was to deliver it to a vessel sailing East. The plan failed and his mother was taken away. She regretted it, until the moment she died to Whale’s Tongue, that she had involved her own child—dooming his future.

“Your mom was a brave woman, Lincoln!” Nola said. He placed his hand on hers as a faint tear formed at the corner of his eyes.

“The darkest hours came next!” he continued, “I looked into the guard’s eyes with pleadin’ desperation. I was terrified! No child should walk the plank! I just stared at the darkness of the Portland Sea. Only a spark of regret flashed over Mason’s eyes as he plunged his sword into my stomach and slammed his heel against my knees to push me off and into the waters.” Lincoln’s face blanched at the memory.

The pain in his gut grew as the crimson-stained waters carried his little body away. The young prince blacked out as the frigid water enveloped his body. Hours later, his eyes opened to bright, sunset-colored leaves falling gently to the ground. A fairy held his shoulders down against a soft linen sheet. Another Fae girl laced her fingers over the wound, while a third Fae poured a warm crystalline liquid across his bleeding cut. It then began to heal before his eyes.

“There! That is my story; magic healed a dyin’ prince, and a pirate was born.”

* * *

Nola felt better that night after Lincoln shared his own secret. She grinned as she watched his bare chest rise and fall from her cot.

I am charmed by your beauty,she thought. Pirate or prince, Lincoln or Tristan, you are the same to me.

The story of how Prince Tristan died was somewhat different throughout the kingdom. Some rumors claimed he had fled to the sea and was killed by a vicious storm that had hit that night. But it was no big deal; the kingdom held a funeral, and the Zemirans lost a prince.

The unsettling news about it all was that Prince Elijah was coming for her. Nola assumed those bells were for her back at Brecken Port, but she did find it strangely odd and ridiculous he would go through all that trouble over merely a sea creature. But then again, she had killed one of the royal guards.

But traveling for seven days over a guard?She questioned; it was in self-defense!

One thing was sure, nothing had changed about her mission. She would sail to the Eastland Forest and demand war against the king who had destroyed her land. Whether that king was the father of the man she was falling in love with, or not.

Nola climbed out of bed and wandered over to the bookcase across the room. She scanned over the books lining the shelves. The siren girl was not ready to face the crew, at least, not without Lincoln by her side. It was not only the captain’s trust she had betrayed.

“Could this be...a map?” she whispered to herself, eyeing a bronze-colored paper stuffed in the corner. “How fitting.”

The siren gripped the tattered map and unfolded it slowly and carefully, trying not to rip the sheet.

But before she laid it flat, she heard Lincoln wake and say from his bed, “Careful, that’s one of my most prized possessions.” He smirked as he walked to her. “Well, aside from that pistol you stole from me.”

Nola’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. After their long conversation earlier that night, the near sight of him caused a timid feeling in the pit of her stomach. She fiddled with the bottom of her shirt and stepped back. Their talk, though slightly awkward, had given Nola a fresh start. The honesty—the closeness—and realization that the two had pretended to be something they were not. Despite it all, neither of them cared about what that truth was. They no longer had to hide from each other.

The captain took the map gingerly between his fingers and moved towards his bed, lying flat on his back.

“Buried treasure?” Nola asked. “Such a pirate thing to have in your possession.” She smiled sweetly.

Lincoln chuckled and looked up. “Somethin’ like that.”

Nola hesitated before approaching him. Once they locked eyes, he held out his hand. “Join me, please.”

“Wait, Lincoln, I need to say something first.”

While still standing next to his bed, she sucked in a breath.

The siren girl continued, “I need you to understand why I must go to war with your father.” She nervously licked her lips and lulled her voice into a gentle whisper. “He is destroying everything that made Zemira beautiful before I was born. He is killing innocent people—children. I must stop him. I know he’s your father, but—”

“Nola, it’s okay! No explanation needed; I get it,” Lincoln said. “He is as dead to me as I am to him.” He paused a beat and then placed his hand on her fingers lightly, rubbing the top of her hand. “Nothin’ has changed. We will still fight with you.”

The siren girl did not expect that kind of reaction, but she was grateful he recognized the king for what he was—a monster.

Lincoln gripped tighter at her hand and pulled her onto the bed.

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