Page 26 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

“Is that so?” Sylvia snatched the notebook from her, and the last of Lorelei’s restraint gave way.

“I want to live to see the end of this,” she hissed.

“So do I!” Sylvia slammed her hands down against the desk. She looked as though she were about to launch herself over it and throttle her.Lorelei became painfully aware of her heartbeat quickening, eager to meet her anger. “You cannot solve all your problems by pretending to be above themor—orby glaring menacingly at them!”

“Of course,” Lorelei replied mockingly. “Instead, we must rush headlong at them.”

Sylvia pointedly ignored her. “The greatest threat to Wilhelm’s reign is Albe. What if he chooses to chargemewith Ziegler’s murder?”

Lorelei blinked hard at her. “Why would he do that?”

Sylvia stared back at her blankly, as though she was failing to grasp the urgency of the situation. “He would accuse my mother of treason and have us both imprisoned. Without us, he could install whatever toady he pleases in my place. Don’t you understand? Can’t you see past your own pride, or has reducing me to desperation been your aim all along? Well, you’ve achieved it.”

Sylvia von Wolff, demanding her help. It was ludicrous. Even more so that she honestly believed Wilhelm would blame her over the obvious choice: a Yeva. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s unbecoming.”

“I am begging you.”

Something about those words sent a rush through her. Entirely against her will, Lorelei’s gaze flickered down and landed on Sylvia’s lips.

What depths would you sink to?Lorelei wanted to ask.How will you convince me?

When she met Sylvia’s gaze again, she had gone deathly still. For a moment, as they stared at each other with some bewilderment, the heat of their argument fizzled.

It disturbed Lorelei that there was a part of her that enjoyed this. That some wretched, unknown desire had been waiting for this moment to make itself known: Sylvia von Wolff, entirely at her mercy. Determined to shove that thought far back into the unholy abyss it crawled from, she said, “No.”

Sylvia snapped out of her stupor. “No?”

Lorelei knew the sensible thing to do was to backtrack. Sylvia could so easily turn on her. But the rush of power unfurled through her likea dram of whiskey, sweet and hot and utterly intoxicating. She could not stop herself. “I won’t help you.”

“How couldyou...?Are you really so spiteful, so small?” Sylvia drew in a shaky breath, as if steeling herself. “Very well. Then if I must, I challenge you to a duel. If you lose, you will do as I ask. And youwilllose, so save yourself the embarrassment and help me.”

Lorelei laughed. Sylvia took a full step backward. “If you really believe I’m capable of such malice, do you think I care about honor? My answer is unchanged. If you want justice so desperately, you’re welcome to play investigator yourself.”

“How dare you talk to me this way?” Her face flushed. “I’m . . .”

She trailed off, coming to the same realization Lorelei had. For once in her miserable life, her name meant nothing.

Lorelei stood, her shadow falling over Sylvia. Slowly, she drew closer, step by step, until she could feel the heat radiating off her, until she could hear the hitch in her breath. It was moments like these that made Lorelei appreciate just how much she towered over Sylvia, who had to crane her neck to hold her gaze.

“You’re what?”

Sylvia did not shy away from her. She broadened her shoulders and glared up at Lorelei as if truly seeing her for the first time. “You really are coldhearted.”

“As you say. Now go.”

Sylvia shoved past her and out the door.

She had gotten her to back down. Lorelei supposed she should savor this, but somehow, it felt nothing at all like she’d imagined. Suddenly exhausted, she sank back into her chair and raked her fingers through her hair. It had been a poisonous victory. In the silence of the war room, a horrible truth became clear. Until they returned to Ruhigburg, there was no one to turn to, no one to trust, but Sylvia von Wolff.

Part II

Blood in the Water

Seven

LORELEI HARDLY SLEPT. ATnight, the ship became a haunted place.

Her mind made ghosts of everything: the memory of Ziegler’s too-loud laughter; the image of the gallows rope that awaited her; the unbridled resentment in Sylvia’s pale eyes. All of them were a bitter reminder that she could notfail—notnow. By the time the sun rose, she’d whittled the maudlin edge off her feelings and found clarity in her exhaustion. Wallowing would not save her, but action might.