Page 173 of Sword & Sacrifice

Emmaline’s shoulders slumped in despair and new tears pricked her eyes.

“See, we’re already on course to Litus, so it wouldn’t be a fair trade. And if I’m going to make a good impression on these kings, I can’t be taking advantage of their friend now, can I?”

New hope swelled in Emmaline’s chest. “You mean you’ll help them?”

“As Echo said, I’d be a fool to miss this opportunity to blow a hole in Everett’s plans. Now, it’s late, and all your pleading is hurtin’ my ears. Get out.”

With that perfunctory dismissal, the captain looked down at some papers on her desk and ignored them all as if they’d already left.

“C’mon, Em, I’ll find you a cot,” Echo offered, leading the way out of the office.

Just outside the door, Braden carefully touched Emmaline’s arm, signaling for her to wait. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“For what?” she asked.

“It takes a lot of courage to stand between two opposing forces. Silas is lucky to have a friend willing to risk her own safety to try to ensure his.” His eyes misted over as he spoke and sorrow roughened his voice. He cleared his throat and bowed his head to her. “Goodnight, Emmaline. I hope we have the opportunity to get to know each other better in the morning.”

Chapter Fourteen

When Emmaline woke the next morning, her whole body ached. I should take some willow bark. As soon as she had the thought, she remembered her medic supplies were still on Everett’s ship, along with Mama’s bag. Tears stung her eyes and she burrowed deeper into the cot. Not that there was much to burrow into—the mattress barely separated her body from the bed’s board, and the blankets were thin and scratchy.

Sighing, she finally tossed the blanket off herself and sat up.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

A scream sputtered past her lips before she choked it down. The blond woman yelped in surprise and brandished her needle like a sword, aiming toward the doorway. After several heart pounding moments of silence, she lowered her needle and scowled at Emmaline. “Oh, I get it. You’re screaming at me, aren’t you?”

“Who are you?” Emmaline demanded.

The woman rolled her eyes. “It’s just me, Em. But if you want some proof.” She stood up and started unlacing her bodice.

Em held up her hand, preventing Echo from stripping down in the small room. “I’m sorry, Echo. I simply wasn’t expecting this new glamour.”

“Had to make a new one after burning my other two. You like?” Echo held up her skirts and twirled in a slow circle. Her new figure was slimmer than Lady Carmine’s, with toned muscles built over a lifetime of daily work.

“Very pretty,” Emmaline replied, since that seemed to be what the pirate wanted to hear.

Echo beamed and settled back in the chair, picking up the fabric she’d been sewing. “The tricky part is getting the whole wardrobe to match. Rafe was easy since his identity was tied solely to that eyepatch. As long as no one peeked underneath, he was safe. Lady Carmine was more challenging. Couldn’t take any real customers or the moment they stripped me naked, they’d see the real me.” She paused and grinned salaciously at Emmaline. “Of course, if you want to see me naked ...”

Emmaline ignored the flirtation, moving around the small cabin to clean herself. As she washed her face, her arms pressed uncomfortably against her enlarged breasts. “Are there any non-glamoured clothes I can borrow?” she asked, plucking at the bodice of the dress Echo had loaned her last night.

“Don’t you think it’d be a shame to get rid of them?” Echo asked, staring mournfully at Emmaline’s cleavage. “That’s one of my favorite glamours. I like to play with them when I’m—”

“Echo!” Emmaline exclaimed, cheeks blazing as she glared at the pirate.

“Right, sorry, didn’t mean to trample all over your delicate sensibilities. C’mon, we’ll get you fitted in something less salacious, shall we?” Echo stood and gathered her sewing supplies into a small basket. Then with her back turned, she muttered, “Even if it is a damn shame.”

Afraid Echo would linger on the topic of breasts all day, Emmaline gently steered the conversation in a safer direction. “If you didn’t have a mentor, how did you learn to sew glamours into clothes?”

“Oh, that? Easy stuff. My father gave my mother one of his grimoires before they separated.” She pulled a book out of her sewing basket and passed it to Emmaline.

The cover was worn, aged leather, and the pages inside were soft and wrinkled from constant reading. Emmaline opened it to the very beginning only to find ragged edges where the first page should be.

“Don’t know whether he meant for her to sell it, but no one wanted to buy it,” Echo continued, “or if he meant it as a keepsake, something to remember him by. Either way, Mama kept it. Though I doubt she expected me to find it while snooping around her bedroom as a nosy kid.”

“Were you telling the truth then?” Emmaline asked. “About your upbringing.”

Echo’s blond eyebrows pinched together before her face smoothed. “Oh, what I told you on the ship? Every good tale has a grain of truth,” she replied with a wide grin. “And it’s much easier to keep track of my characters’ backstories when real memories are attached to them.” She held out her hand expectantly.