Page 180 of Sword & Sacrifice

“Felt more proper this way,” Echo replied, her roguish grin out of place on the sweet, heart-shaped face. “Nobody will bat an eye at a lady midnight visitor.”

Emmaline huffed a laugh. “Did you need something? Or were you lonely without someone to bother?”

“The second,” Echo replied as she flopped onto the bed at Emmaline’s feet. She rolled around, grabbing a corner of the sheets and bundling herself up. “Gods, these are soft. You think he’d notice if I pilfered a few sets?”

Emmaline watched Echo without replying. She was so carefree, even with a potential battle looming over her head.

Once Echo was bundled up so tightly only her blond head was visible, she settled down and gazed at Emmaline. “You’re upset,” she stated. “I thought you would be happier, hearing news from your mother.”

Emmaline took a deep breath, trying to order her thoughts. “I feel like I made everything worse. Mama never expected me to save her—she sought Archer’s help instead. And she was right to. I could do nothing for her. And when I tried ... when I told ... Everett about Mama, I put so many more people in danger. My father never would have bargained with Varro if I hadn’t told him about her.”

Echo sat up, letting the blankets fall into a puddle of silk around her lap. “Em, is that what’s worrying you?”

Tears dotted Emmaline’s eyelashes and she tried to surreptitiously wipe them on her folded arms. “If I was stronger, I could have saved her from Alistair on my own. Then my father wouldn’t have learned where she was, and he wouldn’t have bargained with Varro to capture her for himself. Then we wouldn’t be waiting for Varro’s attack”

Echo scoffed, the sound loud and phlegmy. “No offense, Em, but you simply aren’t important enough to be the catalyst for a war.”

She blinked at them, unsure how to react. “What?”

“Let’s say you defeated Alistair single-handedly. Were you then going to hunt down Varro and stop his revenge plot? You wouldn’t even know about it. Maybe without your mother, Varro wouldn’t have any leverage to bargain with your father, but he wouldn’t have stayed away. Nobody who arranges a whole coup is going to give up after one failure!”

Echo placed her hand on top of Emmaline’s and squeezed gently. “You’re just one player in this game. You can’t control anyone else’s actions; you can only control your own. And I, for one, am happy that your actions led you right to me.”

Emmaline’s lips parted in shock. Gone were the roguish smirks, cheeky winks, and crass suggestions. In their place was simple, sweet sincerity. She turned her hand over and entwined her fingers with Echo’s. “Thank you.”

Taking a deep breath, Emmaline straightened up. “There’s nothing else I can do to help Mama, but there are still people here in Litus I can help.”

“That’s the spirit,” Echo murmured before releasing Emmaline’s hand. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day of preparations, so we should both get some sleep.” She flopped down on the pillow next to Emmaline and grabbed the edge of the sheet, pulling it up to her chin. “G’night.”

“Echo,” Emmaline said, sighing in fond exasperation. “Go to your own room.”

Echo sighed and rolled out of the bed. “Fine, have it your way. I’ll have you know I’m a very good cuddler. All my clients say so.”

“You’re your only client.”

“And I was very pleased with my own services.” As she walked to the door, the overconfident swagger returned to her hips, shedding her sincerity as easily as she shed any of her faces. “See you in the morning, Em. We’ll prove to those pirates that they’re messing with the wrong princess.”

“Not a princess,” Emmaline corrected, but she was still smiling even after the door closed.

More than a dozen people crowded into the small meeting room in the Merchant’s Guild, but the most important person had yet to arrive.

“Does your king plan to join us?” Moira drawled.

Cal cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. “He’ll be here shortly, I’m sure.”

Emmaline twisted her fingers nervously in her lap, her eyes locked on the door. What if he’s sick again? Although her mother had broken Silas’ curse, Emmaline couldn’t completely erase the memories of his illness from her mind. Too many times, she’d seen him unable to keep food down, weep blood, and suffer through terrible headaches. The Silas she met last night appeared healthier, stronger, but there were purple bruises of exhaustion under his eyes.

“Perhaps I should find him?” she suggested. If he really was sick, she would be the best person to treat him, even without her supplies.

But when she stood up, Braden held a hand out, gently gesturing for her to sit. His presence at the meeting was the only one she didn’t understand. After the argument with the captain, she expected the father and son to remain on the ship until they dealt with Varro, yet both men had already been present when she’d arrived.

“Let me,” Braden said. “I’d like to speak with him privately anyway.” He stood up and gestured for his son to join him.

Instead, Koen slumped further in his seat. “You said privately. I can wait here.”

Braden sighed and shook his head. “You were so excited to meet him.”

Koen scoffed, a blush coloring his cheeks. “No I wasn’t.”