The Sea King

  Lily bit her lip. “Well, I’ve got the dress my mother made. It would suit you, I think. It’s my best.”

  “Oh, no, I can’t wear your best dress. You should wear it.”

  “Can’t.” Lily gave a rueful smile and patted her thickening waist. “It doesn’t fit me anymore.”

  “Ah. Then, of course, I’d be honored to wear the dress your mother made you.”

  Chapter 8

  Lily’s mother’s dress needed only a few minor alterations to fit Gabriella. Since a princess could hardly disappear for an entire evening without raising the alarm, Summer left Lily to make the alternations and returned to the palace to establish her alibi for the night. After a small dinner with the family, she announced that she wasn’t feeling well and headed for her rooms, dismissing Amaryllis with instructions that she should not be disturbed. After that, sneaking out of the palace was a simple matter of using the side doors and whispering a few words of Persuasion to make the guards look the other way as she passed by.

  An hour later, wearing a very pretty lilac dress with full, lightweight sleeves and a ruffled hem, Gabriella exited the school with Lily by her side. Lily had changed into a high-waisted yellow gown that provided a stunning contrast to her dark hair, skin, and eyes. Both of them wore clean white linen scarves that covered their heads and tied at the back of their necks beneath the long, loose flow of black hair. They looked like two country girls from Summerlea on their way to a local dance.

  “We could be sisters,” Summer said as they made their way down towards one of the city’s many large plazas. She and Lily had the same build. Their hair was the same color and length. Lily’s skin was darker, but unless the pair of them stood side by side, it wasn’t that obvious.

  “Yes, I suppose so, Your Highness.”

  Gabriella stopped in her tracks, grasping Lily’s arm. “No. None of that ‘Your Highness’ stuff. Tonight, I’m not a princess or a Season or a noble lady. You must call me Gabriella.”

  “I—I couldn’t.”

  “Of course, you can. Try it. Gabriella.”

  “Gabriella,” Lily whispered, then she clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide and horrified.

  Summer made a show of looking around and up at the sky. Then she grinned. “There. You see? And you didn’t get struck by lightning!”

  After a shocked moment, Lily giggled.

  “Say it again,” Summer told her.

  With a little more confidence, Lily did. “Gabriella.”

  “Excellent.” She looped her arm though Lily’s. “And since we look so alike, if anyone asks, I think you should say I’m your sister. Would that be all right with you?”

  “I—if that’s what you wish, Your . . . er . . . Gabriella.”

  “It is.”

  Together, arm in arm, the two of them strolled down the stone side street and out onto the main thoroughfare. The sun was still shining brightly, though the plaza clock chimed nine o’clock in the evening as they approached. A band of drummers, fiddlers, and pipers were assembled on the balcony of one of the plaza buildings, playing a merry tune while scores of Calbernans and brightly garbed laughing women spun about the square.

  Lily watched them with a strange mixture of happiness and sorrow. “Tomis always promised me we’d go dancing one day,” she said. She rubbed a hand on the slight swell of her belly. “We never did.”

  “Tomis . . . he was your husband?” Lily had never mentioned him by name.

  Lily glanced at her, eyes shimmering wetly, then quickly looked away. “He would have been. Truth is, we never got married proper like—just said the vows to ourselves.” She looked down at the ground and scuffed her shoe. “He joined up with the soldiers to make money so we could have a real wedding. Then, after Tomis died and I found out I was gonna have a baby . . . well, my da isn’t a nice man. It would’ve been bad.”

  So, the abuser had been the father. It was a shame Gabriella couldn’t risk taking the time to track him down and serve a little justice on him. She wouldn’t mind unleashing her monster on a man who would abuse his own daughter—especially a daughter as kind-natured as Lily. “So, you came here.”

  Lily nodded. “I heard about these Seafolk coming here to look for wives, and I figured, why not? I heard they were good to women, and at least my baby would have a chance for a better life than me.” She shook her head and swiped at her tears. “I’m sorry for lying to you, Your—” She stopped herself before saying the title, and took a ragged breath. “I’m sorry,” she said again in a low voice, not looking at Summer. “If you want me to leave the school, I’ll understand.”

  “Leave the school?” Gabriella regarded her in genuine surprise. “Why would I want you to leave?”

  Amber eyes blinked solemnly. “Because I lied to you, ma’am.”

  “Gabriella. You agreed to call me Gabriella.”

  “That was before.”

  “Before what? Before you confirmed what I already suspected?” Summer smiled. “Don’t be silly. You’ve a home here, Lily, if you want it. A place to live, a job, an education. We’re going to the plazas tonight to have fun, and so you can meet the Calbernans to see if any of them suit you, but if you’d rather stay in Konumarr and raise your baby on your own, there will always be place for you, if not at the school, then at the palace.”

  “Yes, ma’am—Gabriella. Thank you.”

  “There’s just one more thing I need to know.”

  “Ma’am? I mean, what is it?”

  “How old are you, Lily, truly? I suspect you aren’t the twenty years you claimed.”

  Lily bit the inside of her cheek. “I’ll be seventeen the first Freikasday of next month.”

  “I see.” So young. “Tell me, are you really interested in marrying a Calbernan? Or did you come here just because you thought marrying one of them was the only way to provide for your baby?”

  Lily looked around at the towering, muscular, tattooed men laughing, dancing, and talking with the women of Wintercraig and Summerlea who’d come in search of husbands. “Well, they are just about the prettiest men I’ve ever seen.”

  “They are that.”

  “And like I said, I heard they’re kind to their womenfolk. A girl could do worse, I expect.”

  “I imagine she could, but you shouldn’t feel pressured to marry.”

  Lily sighed. “You know, I really did love my Tomis. We grew up together. But he’s gone, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I want a father for this baby. And I want more babies after that. I need a husband for that.” Lily turned to Gabriella. “I just want a good one. Not one like my da.”

  “All right, then.” With a smile, Summer draped an arm around Lily’s waist. “If a Calbernan husband is what you want, let’s go find you a good one.”

  She wasn’t there.

  Dilys felt Summer Coruscate’s absence the instant he stepped foot on the palace terrace, where his officers and the ladies of the court had gathered for the evening’s entertainment. After gearing up for the hunt, having his quarry thwart his plans by not showing up at all left him feeling both bereft and more than a little surly.

  When Spring and Autumn stepped out onto the terrace to join the festivities, he made a beeline for them, barely remembering to paste on a welcoming smile as he drew near. He forced himself to indulge in the usual pleasantries before asking about the whereabouts of their sister. His effort at subtlety must have fallen shy of the mark, because both Autumn and Spring looked a little taken aback.

  The two Seasons shared a speaking glance, before Spring informed him, “Summer sent word that she wasn’t feeling well this evening. She retired early and asked not to be disturbed.”

  “Did something happen between the two of you?” Autumn asked. There was a tone in her voice Dilys couldn’t quite place.

  “Ono,” he denied. “Nothing happened.” His curiosity rose. “Why? Did she say something had?” He hadn’t managed to get within a hundred feet of Summer in several days, but after
the way he’d put his foot in his mouth that first morning, he’d scrupulously avoided saying or doing anything any of the princesses might take offense at.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then did any of my officers said or do something to upset her? Because if they did—”

  “Your officers have been perfect gentlemen,” Autumn assured him. “I didn’t mean to imply anything of the sort. I simply thought your inquiry might indicate that you and she had . . . um . . . decided to spend more time together.”

  Dilys hesitated. It belatedly occurred to him that indicating an interest in Summer might not exactly endear him to the two princesses he had been courting since his arrival. For a man trained since birth to understand and anticipate the desires of women, it was a particularly egregious oversight. But since neither one of them appeared put out at the possibility, he cautiously admitted, “I had thought perhaps we might begin to do so.”

  Another look passed between the two sisters. Dilys recognized that one. It wasn’t a good look. And it meant he’d completely misread the two Seasons’ response to his inquiry.

  “Is that so?” Spring said. Black brows arched high over chilly green eyes.

  “I thought you preferred someone with a little more fire to her,” Autumn said. “Someone a bit less like”—she turned to her sister Spring—“what was that he called Summer again?”

  “Milked tea,” Spring supplied, her frosty gaze pinned on Dilys’s face.

  “Right. Milked tea.” Autumn turned back towards Dilys and smiled.

  That smile very nearly made him take a step back. He stopped himself just in time. There were creatures in the world to whom a man dare show no fear if he hoped to survive an encounter with them. Women—particularly angry women who thought they were protecting a beloved sister—were among the most dangerous of such creatures.

  “As I already explained, that remark was a show of prideful idiocy that I regretted as soon as it left my lips. I didn’t mean it. I never meant it, and I have already apologized for it. An apology which,” he reminded them, “all three of you accepted.”

  “Well, there’s forgiving,” Autumn said, “and then there’s forgetting.”

  “Two entirely separate things.” Spring moved to her sister’s side, effectively putting a wall of bristling femininity directly in Dilys’s path. “Judging by the fact that Summer has made such a point of steering clear of you, I’d say she hasn’t forgotten anything.”

  “And the forgiving is still pretty iffy too.” Autumn’s smile was so sharp it was a wonder he wasn’t bleeding from multiple lacerations.

  “I am aware I have much work to do to earn my way back into your sister’s good graces. That’s one of the reasons I was hoping to speak with her tonight. To start making amends.”

  “And?” Spring’s eyes hadn’t warmed in the slightest.

  His brows drew together in confusion. “And what?”

  “The other reasons you wanted to speak with her.” Autumn elucidated crisply. “What are they?”

  Dilys had faced enemy armies less fierce than these two women grilling him about his intentions towards their sister. His admiration for them grew exponentially, as did his interest in the woman who had inspired such ferocious love and loyalty.

  He had come here to court the three Seasons of Summerlea, and to choose from them a liana who was strong, wise, and capable enough to mother Calberna’s next queen. Everything he knew, everything he’d personally come to know about Autumn and Spring said they, not their sister, were the right choice to fill that role.

  And yet every instinct and every cell in his body was telling him that Summer, rather than either of her wise, capable, strong sisters, was not just the woman for him, but the only woman for him.

  Her sisters wanted to know his intentions towards her. A cautious man would hedge his bets now. Even if he wanted to follow his instincts to see what might come of them, he would keep his options open—court all three sisters, as per his agreement with Khamsin of the Storms—in case his instincts turned out to be wrong.

  But Dilys had been in enough battles to know that sometimes a bold, direct, all-or-nothing attack was the only path to victory. Considering that his desire for Gabriella Coruscate had been growing stronger every day, despite the fact that she had turned avoiding him into a masterful talent, this battle was one where caution was the wrong choice.

  “Forgive me, but my other reasons are personal. I will not do her the disservice of sharing them before I have a chance to speak with her privately.” He bowed gravely first to Spring and then Autumn. “Myerialanna Spring, Myerialanna Autumn. Thank you both for the honor of your company these last ten days. You have made me feel truly welcome. Any man would be graced by the gods to call himself your akua, your husband. And now, if you will excuse me, as Myerialanna Summer will not be joining the festivities this evening, I will take my leave of you.”

  As he walked away he heard Autumn say, “Did he just . . . dump us?”

  “You know,” Spring responded in a thoughtful tone, “I believe he did.”

  Autumn’s voice dropped to a whisper, which Dilys’s acute hearing picked up as easily as if she’d been talking full voice right into his ear. “I knew there was something going on between the two of them! I knew it! I told you she was lying about it! I told you she was lying, even to us.”

  “It would seem so. The real question is . . . why?”

  And that was the question Dilys was still pondering several hours later as he wandered through the shadowy, twilit gardens towards the shores of the Llaskroner Fjord.

  Why would Summer Coruscate work so hard to avoid a suitor she was attracted to—assuming her sisters were right about her interest? Why would she make such an effort to make him believe she not only didn’t like him, she was afraid of him? And why, when by all accounts she shared an extremely close bond with her fellow Seasons, would she lie about her feelings, even to the sisters she loved and trusted above all others? It made no sense.

  The thick, soft garden grass beneath Dilys’s feet gave way to the hard stone terrace and stairs leading down to the small pleasure-craft dock where several row- and sailboats had been moored for the use of the palace guests. Dilys descended the steps and stepped out onto the wooden dock. The moon had risen. Its silvery light glittered on the night-dark surface of the water.

  For an instant, he thought he saw a woman standing at the far end of the dock, her slender form silhouetted by the moonlight, but when he turned his full attention towards her, she was gone. He frowned and stopped in his tracks. The vision felt odd, like a flash of memory or a hazy fragment of a dream swimming up from his subconscious. It had to be a dream. He’d never been down here on this dock, at night, with a woman. His evening sails with Autumn and Spring had been aboard the Kracken, not these small pleasure boats, a decision he’d made specifically so he would be able to concentrate on entertaining the princesses rather than handling ropes, sails, and the boom. As for his daily swims in the fjord, he’d restricted those to the early-morning hours, when most of the palace and village were still asleep but the sun had already risen.

  And yet, this place . . . this now . . . seemed so familiar.

  Dilys squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples, trying to figure out where the memory was coming from. He’d been standing here, or in a place eerily similar to here. Only the dock wasn’t as clean and tidy as it was now. There should have been coils of ropes and several anchors lying about near the edges of the pier . . . because the woman . . . she had stumbled on those coils of rope. She had . . . fallen. He could hear the splash. Then the silence when she didn’t resurface. It dragged on one second . . . two . . . He could feel the slap of the night-damp wood against the soles of his feet as he’d run down the length of dock and launched himself into the still, dark water of the fjord . . .

  His chest felt tight. Dilys lay a hand over his heart, pressing clawed fingers into the thick flesh of his pectoral. She’d been drowning. He’d tried
to save her. He could see her there in the water, dark hair spread out like skeins of sea silk floating about her face. Golden eyes shining up at him in the darkness from a face shrouded in shadow.

  Golden eyes, not blue. Not Summer Coruscate, then. But who? Why couldn’t he remember?

  Through sunset and into the twilit darkness of the short summer night, Lily and Gabriella laughed and danced and chatted with handsome Calbernan men. Lily flirted shyly. Gabriella did not. Several of the islanders tried to engage her, but she told them she was already spoken for and had just come to keep her sister company.

  Tables overflowed with free food provided by the king and queen. More tables flowed with wine, ale, and mead for only a copper piseta a glass. Lily stuck to the free sweet punch until the attentive young Calbernan who had danced with her multiple times bought her a glass of ice wine, then another after she thirstily drained the first. Before Lily reached the bottom of her second glass, Gabriella realized the wine was a mistake. Either because she hadn’t eaten much that day or because she had no head for alcohol, the strong wine went straight to Lily’s head.

  “Uh-oh, time to get you home,” Gabriella announced when Lily started giggling and swaying on her feet.

  “I will accompany you to your dwelling,” said the young Calbernan who’d bought Lily the wine. He seemed sincerely distressed that his gift had impaired her.

  “It’s not necessary—Talin, was it? We’re staying not far away.” She’d had a nice night of anonymity and a very good time. But Talin and Lily had hit it off and she didn’t want him to find out they’d lied about who she was just yet. If he came with them to the school, he might see Princess Summer leave—because Summer couldn’t very well go back to the palace wearing Lily’s best dress.