The Inadequate Heir, page 43
And if they were his children, many would seek to hurt them.
Zarrah murmured, “How many days until we reach Nerastis?”
He wondered if she was thinking the same thing about children. Or if her thoughts were something else entirely.
“Hard to say.” He shifted off her, out of her, resting on one elbow so that he could see her face. “The wind is against us.”
“Is it?” She smiled, her hand sliding down his stomach. “I rather think it’s for us.”
If only this voyage could last forever. If only the wind would blow so fiercely that it held the ship in place, extending this moment into perpetuity, because he’d never have it again. “Don’t go back.”
Her hand stilled in its descent. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t go back to Valcotta.” Before she could say anything that would silence him, he added, “We could leave all this behind us. Buy passage on a Harendellian merchant vessel and risk the Tempest Seas. Sail all the way north until there is no one who knows or cares who we are and then live under different stars.”
Zarrah was silent, her expression unreadable. “You would leave for the sake of us being together?”
“You make it sound like a greater sacrifice than it is.” He smiled, but it was forced. “Abandoning politics and scheming and war and murder to be with the woman I’m in love with is an easy decision.”
Now that he’d said the word once, it was as though it needed to be said over and over, despite her not saying it in return. Because he knew why she hadn’t.
“What of your family? Are they so easy to abandon? To leave to suffer under your father or whichever of your brothers eventually inherits?”
Keris closed his eyes, thinking of his aunts. Of his siblings, many barely past infancy. Of Sara, forced to toil for her meals in the church. “It wouldn’t be easy. It would be a burden I’d carry for the rest of my life.” He opened his eyes. “But I’ll still do it, if it means being with you.”
“Why?” Her voice shook, but she rolled him onto his back, straddling him as she demanded, “Why are you willing to do all of this for me?”
“Because I never lived until I met you, not really.” He lifted a hand to her face, thumb stroking her cheek. “And because you’ve not been given what you deserve. Not been treated how you deserve to be treated. I would give you everything. We’d be happy.”
The storm outside was fading, the sunlight growing brighter, and it illuminated her face. Revealed the dusting of freckles on her cheeks, the highlights of red in her dark-brown hair. But it was her dark eyes he fixed on, wide and framed with endless black lashes. Doe-like, despite the mind behind them being that of a tigress.
“I need to think on it.” Her voice was tight. Strangled. “I need … I need time to think.”
It wasn’t a no. But it wasn’t a yes. A twist of anger rolled through his chest, because what did she have to go back to? Whom did she have to go back to besides the aunt who’d left her for dead? It wouldn’t be a happy life she returned to, and he wanted more for her than that. But instead of saying any of that, he gave her a tight nod.
“It’s not an easy decision.” She bit her bottom lip. “For my heart, the answer is easy, and it would be yes. A thousand times, yes. But …”
“Honor.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “You honor the people who’d spit on you if they knew the truth.”
She flinched, and guilt flooded him. “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole to have said that.”
Zarrah only shook her head. “You’re not wrong. They would. But this decision … it’s not about honoring them—it’s about honoring myself. I …” She looked away, seeming to hunt for the words she needed. “I need to do things that I believe are right. So I can be proud of who I am and what I’ve done, because there is much I’ve done that I feel ashamed of.” Her eyes jerked back to his. “I don’t mean you. I could never regret you.”
Keris found himself wondering if that was entirely true. Or if it was, whether it would remain true.
“I need to consider the costs of my actions before I make a choice that I cannot undo.” She curved her small hand around his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin. “If you truly love me, then you’ll give me the opportunity to think.”
His chest hollowed, because he knew her. Knew the woman she had been and the woman she’d become. Knew what the choice would be. “Whatever you decide, I’ll still love you. And wherever you go, if you decide to turn back, I’ll be there.”
Her eyes gleamed bright, then two tears dripped down her cheeks to splatter against his chest. “Just give me time to think, Keris.”
Then she was kissing him, her tongue in his mouth as she caught hold of his cock, his body caring little for his fractured heart as she stroked him. He turned his face away from hers, feeling strangled, though he managed to say, “This isn’t allowing you to think, Zarrah.”
“No.” She lowered herself onto him, her back arching, breasts illuminated by the rays of the sun. “But it is allowing me to dream.”
THE MERCHANT VESSEL stopped in nearly every port between Vencia and Nerastis to drop off and pick up passengers, more than tripling the time the journey typically would take. Yet Zarrah would have dragged it out longer if such a thing were possible, for the weeks were the most pleasurable of her life.
Zarrah, by necessity, remained closeted in the stateroom, but Keris rarely left her side unless it was absolutely necessary. He ordered food and wine brought to the room, and she was delighted to discover that absent Silas’s taste for excessive salt, Maridrinian food was very good. And their wine even better, Keris sparing no expense, much to the ship captain’s obvious delight. He read to her from the books he’d brought to disguise her escape, tomes on every different topic, even the driest subject made fascinating by his velvet voice, and she’d rest her head in his lap, listening for hours. He obliged her with stories of his past, though he steered clear of his father. Of Otis. And of Coralyn. Though she was desperate to know what the old woman had said to him prior to her death, Zarrah knew better than to press when the pain was so fresh. So instead she reciprocated, telling him of her childhood in Pyrinat. Of her mother and cousins and what it was like to grow up in the lap of Valcottan privilege. She told him of her training after her mother’s murder, of the endless, endless hours of sparring and lessons. How she’d relished growing strong and capable even as she lost parts of her character that her mother had nurtured so carefully. And when he asked whether she’d done anything fun, she told him of the mischiefs Yrina had gotten her into, especially when they’d come of age. He held her when the pain of her friend’s loss welled fresh, allowing her to sob against his chest until the waves lulled her to sleep.
And they made love.
Endless, endless, pleasure that went beyond what she’d dreamed possible. Sometimes sweet and tender, his caresses coaxing climaxes from her body that rolled through her and made her see stars. Sometimes desperate and savage, his cock hammering into her while she clawed at him, needing more, needing him deeper, the explosion of her climax leaving her breathless and exhausted. He was endlessly creative, and as her inhibitions vanished, she unleashed her own wicked desires, little delighting her more than watching him lose control of himself, her name always what was on his lips.
Both of them knew what they were doing. Trying to force a lifetime into one ship voyage, because it was all they could ever have.
It had been a lie when she’d said she’d needed time to think. She’d only needed time to find the courage to voice the truth. The truth that would shatter her heart in a way she’d never recover from, but the truth nonetheless.
Zarrah had to go back to Pyrinat.
Her time in Vencia had cleared the smoke in her mind surrounding her aunt and caused her to see clearly. The Empress didn’t want the Endless War between Maridrina and Valcotta to ever cease, perhaps even wanted to escalate it in pursuit of retaking Nerastis. Whether it was fanaticism or anger or pride, Zarrah wasn’t certain, only that her aunt was not acting for the good of Valcotta.
Zarrah was the only person in a position to tell her so. The only person capable of tempering her aunt’s desire for war. And, if fates aligned, the only person in line for the throne who would ascend it with the desire to pursue peace.
To walk away now, no matter how much her heart wanted to, would be condemning her people to fight and suffer and die in a war that did nothing but appease the Empress’s pride. Zarrah knew she couldn’t live with herself, knowing that she’d had a chance to make a difference for tens of thousands of Valcottans and instead had chosen herself.
Not that she believed it would come effortlessly.
The Empress would not be easily swayed, and with Silas on the throne, peace couldn’t be had. But if Keris remained in Maridrina, if he ascended either by inheriting or by some scheme, then it would be possible. Which meant tens of thousands of Maridrinian lives improved if only the pair of them stayed the course.
If only they sacrificed each other.
ZARRAH SAT WITH her legs crossed on the bed, watching Keris, who sat at the open window, her pulse racing and her palms slick.
Their time together was over.
Though the window only revealed a night sky filled with countless stars, Zarrah knew they passed familiar landscape. Knew that, if she stood on the deck of the ship, she’d see the lights of Nerastis glowing in the distance.
Tell him, she silently ordered herself. What are you waiting for?
But it felt like her throat had closed up, her breath coming too fast and beads of sweat rolling down her back, though the night air was cool. Zarrah opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue was thick, and all she did was swallow his name, unable to give it voice. She knew why she was hesitating—it was because the longer she waited, the more opportunity he’d have to convince her to change her mind. To run away with him.
To be happy.
You’re a fucking coward, Zarrah, she snarled at herself. Just do it.
Then Keris turned away from the dark sky to face her, silently meeting her gaze. He’d dressed as the prince, freshly shaven, hair loose to his shoulders, the coat he wore royal blue and embroidered with gold, boots polished until they gleamed. With the starlight glowing behind him, he was impossibly handsome—like the prince out of a fable, but that wasn’t what she saw. It was the question in his eyes.
“I have to go back.” The words tore from her lips, and she immediately wanted to take them back as he tensed, suddenly looking anywhere but at her. Why hadn’t she phrased it differently? Why hadn’t she started with an explanation? Why—
“I know you do.”
There was understanding in his voice, not anger, but she still found herself rushing to explain. “I promised Aren to help Ithicana. And I need to attempt to soften my aunt’s stance on the war. Need to convince her of the merits of peace. Need to keep my position as her heir so that when you take the crown, we can end this.”
His jaw flexed on the last, and her chest tightened. “I wish there was a way, Keris. A way I could be with you and still do what my conscience demands, but there isn’t. And I hate it. I want to scream and rage and cry because it isn’t fair.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Silence.
Vaguely, Zarrah was aware of the sounds of the sailors moving about the decks, muffled shouts of preparation, the rattle of the anchor as it lowered into the depths. But still, Keris didn’t answer. Didn’t move from where he stood, didn’t lift his eyes from the floor.
“Please say you understand.” The words croaked from her lips, fear rising in her chest to the point she felt sick. “Please say you don’t hate me for doing this.”
His face snapped up, and in two strides, Keris closed the distance between them, wrapping her in his arms. “I wish I could hate you,” he said into her hair. “Because then I could watch you walk away and not feel like … like …” She felt him shake his head. “If there are words for how I feel about you, I’ve never heard them. Never seen them written in any of the thousands of books I’ve read.”
With her head pressed against his chest, the sound of his hammering heart filled her ears, mirroring her own, and Zarrah’s grip on his coat tightened even as her resolve faltered. I can’t lose you I can’t lose you I can’t lose you her aching heart screamed into her thoughts, and she clenched her teeth to keep from sobbing them aloud.
“I knew you’d never say yes. Knew that you’d never agree to running away when so much rode on your return. That your conscience would never allow it. And as much as I hate that, it’s also one of the reasons I love you. If you’d said yes, it would have made you like me. And I could never love someone like me.”
Her heart shattered, and Zarrah lifted her face, the words that had long been in her heart rising. But Keris pressed a finger to her lips, whispering, “Don’t. It’s already hard enough not to fight for you, and if you say it, my selfishness will win.”
The last thing he was was selfish. “Keris—”
“If you’re going to go, it needs to be now.” He twisted her in his grip, walking her to the open window. “Dawn will come soon, and you need to get into Valcottan waters before then.”
“How—”
He picked up the stoppered ale cask she’d had him request days ago, though most of the contents had been poured out the window. “I knew you had no intention of getting back inside that trunk, Zarrah.” He wrapped a belt around the cask, fastening it tight before pushing it into her hands.
The ship bobbed up and down, the sailors loud in their preparations, and in the distance, she could hear the sound of a Maridrinian naval vessel approaching to watch over the process of unloading the royal cargo.
This was it. The moment she’d dreaded for the entire voyage, but nothing could have prepared her for how horrible it would feel. Like the breath was being squeezed from her chest, every part of her in pain, most especially her heart.
And yet she wanted to draw it out. Wanted to cling to him for as long as possible to delay that final slice of pain.
“Zarrah …”
Sucking in a gasping mouthful of air, she kissed him fiercely, then climbed onto the windowsill, the water splashing loudly against the hull below. Keris caught hold of her hand, then braced himself against the frame. “Be careful.” She knew it wasn’t the water he feared.
She gave him a tight nod, then allowed him to lower her down until his face was lost to the dim light, their locked hands their only connection. The memory of that first night on the dam filled her mind’s eye, Keris’s grip on her the only thing keeping her from plunging to certain death. Then, he’d been her enemy, but now … “I love you,” she said. “I will always love you.”
Then she let go.
I LOVE YOU.
Keris clenched his teeth, his hands screaming with the force with which he gripped the window frame, it taking every bit of his self-control not to jump in the water and follow her to shore.
“You have to let her go,” he told himself, the pain in his chest excruciating. “You have to respect her choice.”
And he did. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Zarrah deserved better, deserved to be treated like a queen, not to sacrifice herself for the sake of those who’d never thank her for it. Who’d never know what she’d given up for them.
A loud knock sounded on the door. Keris jumped, turning away from the window. “Yes?”
“Your Highness, the soldiers comprising your escort have arrived. When you are ready, you may disembark.”
“Thank you,” he forced himself to say. “I’ll be along presently.”
Yet he didn’t move from the window, instead turning to listen for any sound that she’d come back. Any sign that she’d changed her mind. Hating himself for wishing that she would.
But as dawn warmed the sky, he saw nothing but empty waves. Heard nothing but the shouts and curses of sailors and soldiers.
She was gone.
Sucking in a deep breath, he turned from the window, starting toward the door. But then he caught sight of himself in the mirror on the wall. He stared at his reflection for a heartbeat, then twisted toward his packed trunk, casting off his coat as he did. Digging into the depths, he extracted his uniform jacket, which was festooned with markers of rank that he hadn’t earned. He donned it anyway before digging to the bottom and pulling out the sword.
He stared at the weapon, jewels glittering on the pommel and the edge gleaming sharp. A gift from his father, and he hated it. Wanted nothing more than to go to the window and toss it into the waves.
Instead, he belted it around his waist. Zarrah had sacrificed everything in a bid for peace, and that could only be achieved if Maridrina was willing.
Which meant that he needed to bring war upon his father.
And this time, it wouldn’t be fought with words.
FOR A LONG time after she reached the beach, Zarrah lay in the sand, just breathing.
Beyond the edge of the harbor, she could just make out the ship she’d abandoned Keris on, flanked by a naval vessel watchfully monitoring the unloading of passengers and cargo via longboat. Had he already reached shore? she wondered. Is he on his way to the palace?
Part of her wanted to remain where she was, watching. Yet she knew that Valcottan patrols would soon cross over this stretch of beach, and she could not be connected to the ship or to Keris. So Zarrah staggered to her feet and made her way into the city.
Nerastis was always the quietest at this hour, but she still crossed paths with dozens of her countrymen and women going about their business, her ears filling with the familiar lilt of Valcottan voices, her nose with the scent of grilled meat and savory spice, her mouth watering despite it not being long since she last ate.
