Page 53 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

He shook his head. “I took the throne fifteen years ago because I had to,” he confessed, his thumb stroking along my cheekbone as he spoke. “Your turn.”

“But I have questions,” I protested, pouting my lip playfully.

He rolled his eyes, still smiling. “No follow ups. Your turn.”

I pursed my lips, thinking about what I could tell him. This game felt dangerously like becoming close to him, and the thumb caressing my cheek wasn’t helping matters as my heart thumped a little erratically. “I never wanted to be queen,” I said, deciding it was a safe enough confession to make. “I just wanted to read and explore and learn new things. But it was always too dangerous, or my health was too poor.”

Caspian nodded, as if he understood perfectly. “What a pair of monarchs we make,” he murmured, his thumb grazing my lip. My breath caught a little as he added, “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”

“You should meet my friend Sereia,” I whispered, feeling oddly out of my own depth with his thumb still on my lip and his body so close to mine. “She says that trouble finds me.”

Caspian laughed, leaning down and closing the distance between our faces. The warm skin of his chest pressed against my cooler skin, and for a fleeting moment, I thought he might kiss me.

He seemed to remember himself because he stepped back and dropped his hand, leaving me a little cold and bereft without him. “I’ll be back soon, Princess,” he murmured. His eyes dimmed strangely, his faint smile not quite reaching them. He turned without another word and left.

I blew out a breath, feeling like the atmosphere had temporarily contracted around us, then burst wide open with his departure.

Had I wanted him to kiss me? I thought Ihad.Which was ridiculous for a number of reasons. I flopped down on the bed, which was lumpy but admittedly softer than the cave floor, and reminded myself of all the reasons I couldn’twantCaspian.

He was an enemy king. I was betrothed. I was the future of my people. Our people were at war. His magic was dangerous.

But he was also kind. His people were warm and joyous. He had deep amber eyes and a rumbling laugh, and he sang in a way that ignited my soul as only the sea could.

And he had nice shoulders. And arms. And wings.

I was in so much trouble.

Ratherthansleeptheday away and become a wholly nocturnal creature, I tried to make myself useful. There was a rather careworn broom in the corner of the hut that I hadn’t noticed, and I used it to sweep some of the dust and debris from the hut, propping the door ajar so the musty room could air out.

The exertion and dust triggered another spell of coughing, and I resigned myself to being a bit useless until I was better.

Caspian had lugged the pot back up the hill when we had left the cave—which made me even more annoyed at his athleticism—and I pulled as much water as I could from the last of the morning fog to fill it. My magic drained far too quickly, and my breathing was thin and reedy again by the time I was done.

I decided to keep watch, wrapping myself in two of the sealskins and perching on a section of cliff in front of the hut that overlooked our beach. I couldn’t see any other islands in the distance, but the day was hazy. A quick calculation of the sun told me that I was facing west, which would also prevent me from spotting land.

Other than the occasional flip of a fin in the water, mostly likely a seal and not a sea dragon based on the color, it was peaceful and rather dull. I didn’t sense whatever ominous presence Caspian had sensed, although I tried extending my magic out to feel for it.

My magic stumbled on a few pools and a small stream some distance inland, a little to my surprise. I had never used my magic to sense water other than the sea. There was no need usually, with water at the turn of a faucet. I pushed my senses, and a lake formed at the center of the island, teeming with life and darkness. I startled back with a snap of awareness, that dark thing making me tremble a little.

I had been so engrossed in my magical search that I didn’t hear Caspian returning until he was dropping into a crouch next to me.

“No luck,” he huffed, as I startled at his nearness. “I found more herbs, but no water. Andsomethingis lurking on this island.”

“I can sense water,” I said, refusing to look at him as I felt a blush crawl up my cheeks. Maybe he could pretend that both our almost kiss today, and our definite kiss when we had first come ashore, didn’t happen, but I was finding it much harder to forget. “There’s a stream a little ways north. And…” I hesitated, wondering if I should mention or ignore the dark lake. “And some pools. I can guide you.”

“Not now,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder to stop me from rising. “There’s time since I see you drew water from the fog. Tea first.”

I almost laughed at this oddly genteel invitation to tea, stopping myself when I remembered it was because I was broken that we needed tea at all. If only my lungs could heal like Caspian’s wings, splinted but ultimately fixable.

Caspian didn’t notice my introspection, hauling the pot inside the hut with a grunt of effort. Show off.

“I forgot to ask how you lit a fire,” I inquired, following him into the tiny room. “Down in the cave.”

“With this,” he replied, holding up a little black stone. “I brought the flint down with me.”

“Must be nice to have pockets,” I commented, feeling woefully underdressed wrapped in a discarded sail.

“Why do females care so much about pockets?” Caspian grumbled, attempting to light a fire in the hearth with a few bits of driftwood and branches he had brought back with him. The wood struck, crackling dimly as he fed it air with his magic and encouraged it to burn.