Page 219 of Royal Rebel

“We pirates do indeed have a physician,” Zadir said, drawing near. “But I’m afraid Spewer’s just got the stomach of an old, sickly woman.”

Grayson gagged dryly over the edge again, his face flushing at the strain of retching up nothing. At least the mist was cool against his face.

Mia gripped his shoulder. “Is there anything we can do for him?”

“Not really,” Zadir said easily. “He’ll get a little better as we go.”

Mia didn’t seem convinced, but before she could say more, the Fletchers arrived on the deck.

Rena Fletcher cried out and threw her arms around Mia, talking so rapidly Grayson could barely make out a word she said. The tears she struggled with certainly didn’t help.

Fletcher hung back a little, though when he saw Grayson’s gaze, he offered a short nod. A greeting, or thanks for keeping Mia alive—Grayson wasn’t sure what it was supposed to convey.

Rena’s rate of talking finally slowed enough that Grayson could make out her words. “Fates, you need to get out of these dirty clothes. And when did you last eat? Come, let me take care of you.”

Mia resisted the woman’s tug. “I want to stay with Grayson.”

“You should go,” he said, his voice heavy despite his best efforts. “I’ll be a while. I need the fresh air.”

Zadir leaned back against the rail beside Grayson. “I’ll stay with him, my seraijah. Make sure he doesn’t fall off.” He threw in a wink.

Mia looked torn, but after Grayson managed to throw her a weak smile, she allowed Rena to guide her away. Fletcher followed close behind, a silent guard.

It felt strange to watch Mia walk away.

Grayson didn’t like it.

“You look a little worse for wear,” Zadir said, grabbing his attention. “But you did the impossible. You saved the stolen seraijah, just like a hero in a story.” His eyes were on Grayson’s profile—more specifically, his burn.

Grayson fingered the edge of his scar before he ordered his hand to drop to the rail. He recalled their conversation of heroes and adventure tales before he’d left the ship so many weeks ago. “Do I still fit the part of a nightmarish assassin?” he asked a bit dryly.

“Indeed. You’re even more nightmarish now.” Zadir leaned closer, unabashedly staring at his jaw. “By the fates, thatisreal, isn’t it? I thought it was a trick of the shadows.” He whistled lowly as he drew back. “I suppose you’re more of a sacrificing hero than you thought.”

Grayson didn’t know what he was, but it wasn’t a hero. “How worried do I need to be about Tyrell coming after us in a Rydenic patrol ship?” he asked, changing the subject.

Zadir snorted. “He’s got just as much of a chance catching us that way as by swimming himself. TheSeafireis the fastest ship on these waters, and this fog plays in our favor.”

“Good.”

The captain’s head tilted to the side as he studied him. “You going to tell me who did that to your face?”

“My father.”

His eyebrows drew together as he muttered a long string of curses.

That seemed to say it all, so Grayson didn’t bother responding.

A short silence stretched between them, then Zadir asked, “How old are you?”

Surprised by the question, Grayson answered without thought. “Seventeen.” But no, that wasn’t right. He’d had his birthday while sailing back to Ryden to rescue Mia. He hadn’t even realized. “Eighteen,” he corrected.

Zadir scratched his dark beard. “That’s not many years, Spewer.”

With his family, it had sometimes felt like an eternity.

“You’ve seen a lot of terrible things,” the captain continued, as if following his thoughts. His voice was quieter as he added, “You’ve donea lot of terrible things, too.”

He couldn’t argue that.

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