Page 171 of Sword & Sacrifice

“I wish,” Moira muttered. “I’d keep him on this ship in a heartbeat. Clever little thing with nimble fingers and a tongue sharp enough to slit a man’s throat. Alas, he’s bound for the shores, not the sea.”

She led them across the deck and down to the captain’s cabin. The ship’s layout was similar to the Eyolf. Emmaline wasn’t familiar enough with ships to know if that was typical, or if they were made by the same craftsman.

When they entered the captain’s cabin, they found a man already inside. He sat in an armchair off to the side, one ankle resting on his other knee, a book in his lap. Graying brown hair curled around his ears and a pair of half-moon glasses perched on the end of his nose. He glanced up as they entered, green eyes alight with interest. “Captain Moira,” he greeted, his low voice smooth and soothing. He stood up, clasping the book in one hand. “I apologize for stealing your quarters once again.”

“Most comfortable place on the ship,” Moira said. “That’s the point of being captain.”

A soft smile quirked his lips and crinkled around his eyes. Familiarity tugged on Emmaline’s heart, but she wasn’t sure why. This is the type of man I wanted my father to be, she realized with a hint of embarrassment.

“Well, now that you’ve returned, I’ll get out of your hair.” He stepped past Emmaline and Echo but paused when Moira called out to him.

“Actually, could you fetch Cal for me? You both should hear whatever our lovely hostage-guest has to say.”

“Hostage-guest?” the man said, arching an eyebrow. “Moira, you agreed—”

Moira waved his complaints away. “She hopped onto my ship of her own free will, I’m just deciding what to do about it.”

His lips pursed in a displeasure. Turning to Emmaline, he said, “Young lady, if you don’t wish to be here—”

“For now, I do,” she assured him, afraid that he would convince the captain to boot her off the ship.

He watched her for a long moment before nodding. Then he left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Who’s the fancy-britches?” Echo demanded as they settled into the man’s vacated seat.

“Passenger,” Moira grunted.

“Passenger? We don’t take passengers!”

The captain looked pointedly at Emmaline.

Echo waved a hand through the air. “Special circumstances.”

“I could say the same,” Moira replied dryly.

The door opened again before their argument could continue, and the man from before entered with a newcomer. The newcomer had neatly trimmed gray hair and tan skin darkened further by the sun. When his eyes landed on Emmaline, he froze in place. “You’re King Archer’s girl, aren’t you?”

“I thought she was King Silas’ girl,” Moira replied, both eyebrows raised in surprise.

Emmaline sighed in exasperation. “I am no one’s ‘girl’!”

The man cleared his throat awkwardly. “Forgive me, I couldn’t remember your name, but I did remember you were part of King Archer’s party for the diplomatic meeting.”

“My name is Emmaline,” she replied tartly.

“Cal Rhodes,” he said, bowing at the waist.

Moira settled in the chair behind her desk, eyes skating between Emmaline and Cal. “Quite the valuable guest indeed.”

“Why did you think she was Silas’s—King Silas’ sweetheart?” the other man asked.

“My fault,” Echo said, raising a hand in the air.

“Ah, then obviously it isn’t true.”

Echo narrowed hazel eyes on him. “And who are you again? Captain never said.”

“Another valuable guest,” he replied with a straight face.