Page 63 of A Trial of War
I inhaled deeply, forcing my nerves to settle.
The night fog from the bay rolled over the ships swaying in the tide, readying to shift to take the ships out to sea. The harbor appeared to be floating amongst clouds on a dark, stormy night, with lanterns along the masts of ships looking like ground-bound stars.
Boots stomped in a familiar pattern as Isolde, and I turned toward the approaching pair of feet.
When Wyndfall reached us, he nodded once. “The captain will take us. He sails before dawn.”
Relief and dread twisted together in my chest.
“This way,” Captain Wyndfall said, his voice quiet and calm, bringing me back.
I followed him along the dock until we came to the last ship, waiting for us at the end. Wyndfall had sent wordwith a trusted courier to seek out safe passage across the sea. I was glad his intel proved true. The boat’s sails furled tight, its name painted in pale letters along the hull,Brightwater.
Isolde’s firm grip caught my wrist before I could move closer. “Wait,” she said.
Something in her tone stopped me.
“I’ve been thinking.” She paused, taking a steadying breath. “You can’t go.”
I blink. “What?”
“You’re too recognizable, even in disguise. If word has reached Zircon that the princess fled over the Narrow Sea, the king will send his fastest ships to retrieve you.” She shook her head. “You’d never make it across.”
“But the plan—”
“The plan can change,” she said. “And I believe it is in our best interest if you remain here, Your Highness.”
Wyndfall’s brow furrowed. “Isolde—”
She turned to him, eyes bright in the lanternlight. “You know I’m right. You can protect her better here. I know enough of the past to state our case. I come as a healer, not a warrior or a threat to their people or crown.”
I didn’t know what to say. Isolde’s voice was firm and unwavering. The confidence in her ability to speak to the High Fae and shifters touched something in my heart. I admired her for this offer, but I was not in favor of her traveling across the Narrow Sea alone.
Isolde turned to her husband. “She’ll listen to me.”
There was a beat of silence as Wyndfall stared at his wife. His emotions were caged behind a mask of steel as he assessed her.
I stared at Isolde, practically speechless. “You’d be risking your life to sail there. Are you sure about this?”
She turned toward me, saying, “It isn’t a risk. It’s a purpose. You taught me that.”
“I never—”
“Yes, you did,” she interrupted, giving me a soft smile. “When you rode into the villages last winter with food from your own stores. When you defied your father’s ruling to remain inside the gates and left to help the healers comfort the plague victims, you taught all of us that a single heart’s courage can move kingdoms.”
Her words pierced straight through me.
Wyndfall’s hands clenched at his sides. “If you go, love, we may not see each other on this side of the crossing.”
“I know.” Her voice remained steady. “But if Réalta goes, the realm may lose its hope entirely.”
I couldn’t bear it. “There must be another way—”
“There isn’t.” She reached up and unfastened the small silver pendant at her throat, along with her healer’s dagger from her hip, and pressed them into my hands. “For luck.”
I took the dagger and slipped it into my cloak pocket, but paused as I gazed at the pendant. It was small and shaped like a feather, worn smooth by time. I closed my fingers around it, unable to speak.
“This was once my mother’s,” she said. “And if we were ever to have children, it would’ve gone to one of them. But alas, the gods foresaw another we would need to care for and love as if she were our own.”
