Page 22 of The Isles of the Gods
“But we don’t have a chart,” I protest.
“His Highness has provided one,” Rensa replies with a nod to him, which he returns, like they’re equals of some sort.
“I—I thought— He’s theprince?” Jonlon manages, wide-eyed, and his twin lays a hand on his arm to quiet him. Only their deep brown skin and matching smile lines even suggest Jonlon and Conor might be related, Jonlon tall and broad and calm, his brother short and wiry and usually not calm.
“Why our ship?” I ask, the words out before I think. “We’re an honest merchant, not a single flower or garland or dancing girl in sight.”
“The garlands are a good look for me,” the boy agrees, drawing a snicker from Abri and a smile from Kyri.Unbelievable.Then he winks at me. “And I look great with a flower behind my ear.”
Kyri immediately shoots me adid he just wink at you we will discuss this laterglance, her eyes widening, and Rensa shoots me ashut up or I will shut you upglare.
“Alas, duty called,” the prince continues, still grinning. “I’ll make my family’s traditional sacrifice when we reach the Islesand strengthen our goddess enough to maintain her watch over Macean. She’ll ensure he stays bound in sleep, where he belongs—and so the Mellaceans will have to pack up their toys and wait to play war another day.”
“A sacrifice?” Abri asks.
“Every twenty-five years,” Prince Leander replies. “My family has been making the voyage for centuries.”
I squint at him, trying to dredge up lessons from long ago—I’m not even sure thiswasa lesson as much as a story someone told of an evening to entertain the crew. Something about the twenty-five years sounds familiar.
“Sorry,” I say slowly. “Just to confirm, we’re on the verge of war, and instead of sending you to make sure our allies are on our side—already not a great plan—the queen is banking on the Mellaceans deciding not to play because they think their god is asleep?”
“Exactly right,” he replies cheerfully.
I cannot believe I lost the chance to sail north forthis.
“I don’t even know where to start,” I murmur. I know I should shut up, but I’m honestly beyond diplomacy.
“Enough, Selly,” Rensa growls.
Prince Leander waves one hand in dismissal. “No, Captain, your crew aren’t the only ones to think the royal family have been asleep on the job. But we know our duty. The danger of assassins means it’s worth a misdirect, though, worth pretending our attention is somewhere else entirely.”
“What’s the progress fleet actually doing, then?” Conor asks, his tone much sharper than his brother’s. At least one other person on this ship isn’t gazing at the prince like they’re smitten.
“The progress fleet will set off up the coast, nice and slowly, as though it’s heading for the diplomatic visits I had planned,” the prince replies. “They’ll take their time, move out to sea first—the prince and his friends playing at making a real voyage. Meanwhile, nobody will track theLizabettaas they would an Alinorish naval ship. Sheisbeautiful, but unremarkable. Which means we can be down to the Isles and back up again before anyone knows what we’re about.”
He pauses, and looks around at each of us, lowering his voice and turning on the charm.
“My sister and I are grateful for your help,” he continues, sounding like exactly what he is: a boy nobody’s ever said no to in his life. “I’ll do my best not to get in the way.” He drops his voice further, and the whole crew leans in. “And when I was aboard the progress fleet today, I…borrowed a few supplies. We’ll feast like—well, like princes, I suppose—for tomorrow morning’s breakfast.”
I snort, and I can tell Rensa hears me. But Leander’s grin is so easy, so friendly, it makes co-conspirators of us all, like this is one giant prank instead of a mission so dangerous he has to complete it undercover.
Before any of us can reply, Kyri steps forward, raising her voice. “It’ll be a quick trip down to the Isles, if all goes well—and it should, with His Highness charming the spirits beside me. Jonlon, Conor, you’re on deck with me for now. Abri, take a look at what’s in the galley and pull together something for us to eat. Selly, the prince will be sleeping in our room—I moved our things out an hour ago. You’re off watch—grab a spare hammock in the crew quarters and get some rest.”
And just like that, still gaping at her over the fact I’ve been thrown out of my own bed, I’m dismissed.
Leander steps in close to Rensa, they fall immediately into conversation, and spirits save me, he makes her smile in under ten seconds. I didn’t know she knew how.
I don’t even realize the scholar’s on deck until he moves abruptly in the shadows, jerking his eyes away from the prince. I’m sure His Highness is used to being stared at—probably loves it—but all the same, something in the scholar’s gaze makes me watch him as he rounds his shoulders and retreats belowdecks.
Kyri checks the shrine, then heads off with the twins to trim the sails.
Abri shoots me a look inviting me to come straight to the galley and gossip, and when I shake my head, she just links her arm through mine and hauls me along the deck with her.
“Aprince!” she whisper-squeals, definitely not as softly as she thinks. “Don’t look like that, Selly! We have the most eligible bachelor on the Crescent Sea aboard!”
“What, you think he’s here to do some wooing?” I snap, and immediately regret it when her smile vanishes.
Kyri’s voice sounds in my ear, and I jump. “Stow it, Selly. Can’t you just enjoy the view?”
