Page 59 of Spar of Hearts

All right, that sounded way more sensual than it ought to be. But maybe it was an Elvani thing. Anya felt a little twinge of envy. Not over Blackbird, but that kind of intimate moment with someone who cared for her in a romantic way. And here Blackbird was, being fawned over by a knight, completely and utterly unaware.

Stop, Anya, she scolded herself. This is about Blackbird, not me.

Although, that didn’t protect her friend from some good-natured teasing. Anya smirked and lifted her brows. “Ahh, oh yes, I see. You’ve found yourself a knight in shining armor.”

“I—” Blackbird huffed, lower lip stuck out in protest. “You—you know what? Forget digging! Don’t dig! Ever again!” She tried to look intimidating for a moment but failed miserably. Blackbird’s lips twitched as a smile tried to break free. “Hahahaha! Oh Spirits, I regret ever saying that!”

The weight lifted from Anya’s shoulders, if only for a moment. She desperately needed this laugh. She giggled and continued wriggling her brows in a comically suggestive manner.

Blackbird held her stomach. “Stop it! Hehehehe, you’re too good at that!”

“Too good at what?” Anya’s brows kept dancing. She had incredible control of her facial muscles. It was one of the few benefits of being able to snarl.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bernard skid into the doorway.

“Your Highness, there’s more icebergs. I can get Lord Bryson, but—”

“No.” Anya shoved her chair back and stood. “Thank you for getting me. Have the crew direct all questions Lord Bryson would handle to me. I don’t want him disturbed.”

Where was he? Come to think of it, Anya hadn’t heard the stern creak from Yomira’s restless shifting, and Roderick’s usual place in the galley looked untouched.

Bernard nodded and led her up top. The moment she handled icebergs, the rod of the helm was rattling. Then the fore topgallant sail came loose. A leak in the storage room. Intense prevailing easterlies. With everything settled, she and Blackbird did their sky charting that night, then ate breakfast-dinner. But just as Anya’s head hit the pillow, everything fell apart again.

Chapter 22

Roderick Bryson

Three days.

Three days Roderick wrestled for control of his mind. He begged the Divine for relief. For silence. For anything but the sickening twist in his stomach and cold sweat dripping down his back. His flight with Yomira had only granted him temporary relief. Once he’d hidden away in his cabin, the last of his courage vanished. He didn’t have the guts to face any of the crew again. Yomira would occasionally tap his porthole with her tail. Twice he saw her tumble off the side of the deck trying to reach his porthole with her snout, then fly back up and try again. Guilt gnawed at his bones, but it wasn’t enough to get him up. The thought of contending with these voices with anyone around made him retreat further into himself.

Soon, he feared he would truly let go, that he would go up to the deck in the dead of night, tie the anchor around his ankle and be done with it. The cold waters promised to numb his pain and silence the voices.

Worthless, the voices hissed. You’re just slowing the expedition down. Yelling, screaming, threatening the Princess while children’s lives hang in the balance. You’re disgusting. And now look at you.

“No!” he screamed into his pillow, summoning the last of his defiance. “I want to help them. No one else can die…no one else can die…”

Great job you did protecting Millicent. That cane is a testament to your failure, and she lives with it every day. If you’d worked harder, been better, gained that title sooner, she would have never joined the Hounds.

How putrid must you be for her to have taken such a step to avoid your arms? Being with you was truly a fate worse than death. Torturing her with your advances, your touches—you truly are a rake.

How could you ever think Anya, a princess, would return your feelings? You trampled her during the evacuation. You embarrassed her in front of the Council. You screamed at her for all to hear.

And your precious “mystery maiden”?

The only reason she entertained you was the mask you wore; the shadow that concealed your wretched heart.

The hunger that built as the hours wore on was almost gratifying. Every pang in his stomach made him feel closer to his kind than ever—to the suffering they endured while his plate was always full. His grandfather may be dead because of him, but at least both his parents were alive.

Ellis and Millie’s adopted daughter had been through far more than him, yet she embraced them as her new family. She smiled through her sickness. She kept going despite it all.

So why couldn’t he do the same anymore? He’d done it for so long, even in the face of evacuation.

The door rattled as someone tried the handle, then knocked. The near hourly check-ins were beginning to grate his nerves.

“Roderick,” Octavio called. “You have to come out. You have to eat something.”

The knight should know by now that he wasn’t going to answer. Opening his mouth could unleash poison-tongued words he could never take back.