Kelena expected the lands of the Empire of Day to be strange and exotic, but their first few days of travel with the Helat yielded the same foliage and lakeland as the contested area around the Kingdom of Night’s northern border. The trees grew denser there, forest edging out the windswept grasses, but they rarely went a full hour before coming upon another lake or pond or stream.

  In time, however, the flat forested lakeland rolled into foothills. The trees shifted from oak, cottonwood, and cedar to pine, aspen, and birch. The loamy ground was studded with stones Clarencio called ankle-breakers—not for humans, he explained, but for horses. The train slowed appropriately so their spirited mounts and hardy draft could pick their way through the rocky terrain.

  The lurching rumble of the carriage was a trial for her husband, bringing out the occasional grunt or grimace and causing him to knead his affected thigh frequently, but nothing so severe as the fit he’d had on the way to the Weir. Each day before they got under way, Saro brought the duke a specific waterskin that was deftly swapped with a different one when it passed to Kelena. Another drink from that waterskin when they stopped at midday helped Clarencio exercise the leg with a walk. A final drink after the evening meal, when the tents were raised, helped him relax enough to lie down and sleep.

  The Helat traveled during the days and slept at nights, which was a novelty for the Khinet-born. It was all backward—breakfasting at sunrise, eating a midnight meal at midday, and supping in the evening. When they stopped in the daytime, Kelena stuck to shaded areas and shielded her easily burnt skin with a parasol. Clarencio wasn’t as sensitive as she was, but even he closed the shutters on his side of the carriage when the sun glared directly through his window.

  Alaan, on the other hand, flourished beneath the glow of day. His already dark skin tanned a deep brown and gold streaked his sandy hair. When they stopped, he found the sunniest spots close to Kelena to stand guard, silently basking in the light. Through the grafting, she felt its comforting touch on her Thorn’s skin, but there always a melancholy note accompanying the warmth that Alaan could not hide from her, something between memory and grief.

  He was silent while they rode in the carriage, and silent when they stopped. The rage she remembered from the beginning of their relationship remained suppressed, but that constant maddening calculation returned. If a Helat spoke to Alaan, he answered in their tongue, but his replies were short and rarely continued into conversation. Clarencio received the same treatment from the pirate in Khinesian.

  Kelena feared to try talking to Alaan, afraid he would spurn any word that came from her.

  Every day and night, the pirate worked harder to block the emotions and sensations that ran through the grafting. She knew she should do the same, but a part of her clung desperately to the connection.

  When she couldn’t take the silence any longer, she asked him, “Will you ever speak to me out loud again?”

  Clarencio was at another campfire, discussing the imperial city with Shaden and some of their guards. Kelena hunched over the rock where she sat, hugging her knees to her chest, and stared beseechingly up at Alaan.

  Her Thorn wrestled with his answer for so long that she began to think her fears of rejection were justified.

  “It would be better if I did not,” he finally said.

  “The knife hacking up the insides again,” she said, attempting a smile. “Killing what’s unprofitable. Something about sharks and grass?”

  No amusement touched the grafting.

  Quietly, Alaan said, “I have committed nearly every sin an Ocean Rover can commit. I won’t come between a man and his wife.”

  It wasn’t a vow; it was a plea.

  The breeze soughed through the pines. A resinous log crackled on the fire. Each pop felt like a nail being driven into Kelena’s chest.

  “Clarencio is an easy man to love.” She looked across the fire to where her husband stood with the legate marshal. The duke leaned heavily on his walking stick, but his free hand gestured as he spoke, and his handsome features displayed thoughtful intensity.

  He was so passionate about what he believed, so hungry to lift up the downtrodden. Kelena adored seeing Clarencio’s delight whenever Shaden agreed with him on some policy, and she was fascinated by his depth of thought when he and the Helat found something to argue over. Clarencio was charming and kind, and he treated her better than anyone she had ever known. She didn’t deserve someone so wonderful.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Disagreement colored the grafting.

  “What is it?”

  Alaan wouldn’t look at her. “In the Ocean Rover tongue, there is no word for the dirter concept love. Your word means a feeling. Infatuation, enjoyment. This cannot bind two together forever. It cannot overcome anger or indifference or loss. It is temporary, a changeable wind.”

  “But… But your people must have something like it. Something that means a true, deep devotion.”

  “Ocean Rover women tell their husbands, ‘merae en di’—‘I give myself to you.’” At his side, Alaan’s hand twitched he spoke the foreign words, making strange shapes. “Ocean Rover men tell their wives, ‘merae en evr’—‘I sacrifice myself for you.’”

  “I’ve never heard you say anything in your people’s language before,” Kelena said.

  “It is not often spoken aloud.” He glared across the camp at Clarencio’s profile. “You told me the duke sacrificed much to rescue you from your family’s abuse. He seeks to protect you and provide for you.”

  Kelena’s heart gave a painful squeeze. Two champions who pledged their love to her in sweat and blood and effort. In return, she had given them nothing.

  “I’ll try harder,” she promised. “I’ll give him more. He deserves at least that much.”

  After a moment, Alaan nodded. “Your husband is an honorable man.”

  It was the highest compliment her Thorn could pay, and she felt what it cost him.

  And she knew he was right.

  A bloody purple hair ribbon danced through her mind. A poisoned thought, impossible to consider face-on.

  “You said you would help me save Clarencio, but how do we save him from me? I don’t know how to stop what’s coming.”

  “Warn him, that he may arm himself.”

  “It’s that simple?”

  “It is a start.”

  ***

  That night, when the meal was finished and Clarencio retired into the pavilion, his young wife dismissed her Thorn and the servants, then led him to their bed.

  Mentally he cursed himself for having already drunk his nightly dose of opal sap, but without the deadening it brought on, the travel-induced agony in his leg would have made it impossible to enjoy Kelena’s advances.

  They hadn’t lain together since their wedding day, and Clarencio had avoided pressuring her. Kelena seemed happy enough when surrounded by others, the picture of a devoted new bride. When they were alone together, however, there was a reluctance that verged on fear. He’d hoped to win her over in time, but even with his wits blunted by the painkilling drink, he couldn’t fool himself into thinking the patient approach had yielded results so quickly.

  “Clarencio,” she said before he could broach the subject. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  He brushed a dark ringlet out of her eyes. “Intriguing way to open a conversation. If I could have used the same approach in the Hall of Law, I might’ve won many more lords to my side. Or more likely, given that I’m not a beautiful young woman, made them much angrier.”

  Kelena’s worried mien softened into a laugh.

  “Be serious, please,” she said, tracing his cheek with her fingertips. “Just for a little while?”

  “I’ll make every effort.”

  Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself.

  “You must know my father didn’t send us to the Helat hoping for a true reconciliation. A great danger is coming after Summerlight. The Night of Judgment, when the strong gods will… will visit horrible creatures of their hells upon the Helat.

  “You met my brothers at the redoubt; they’re leaving from Shamasa with a small force to make their way to the imperial city by the Night of Judgment so they can seize the city. I don’t know exactly how you fit into the king’s plans—”

  “Most likely snugly into the mouth of one of these hell creatures.”

  “—or why he sent you and not someone else,” Kelena forged ahead determinedly. “But if you’re forewarned, you can arm yourself against whatever he has in store, can’t you?”

  It took longer than he would have liked to wrestle clarity from the warm haze of the opal sap, but Clarencio set to work taking apart all she had said and examining it.

  “Your brothers told you this?”

  “Izak did. He and Alaan spent much of the journey to the redoubt discussing what it could mean that my father told him these plans knowing Izak would tell me. They thought that must factor into the Judgment in some way, but they didn’t take into account that the king also knew I would be too scared to tell you. What did you call that when you were talking with Shaden yesterday? A mistaken premise? Izak and Alaan’s concerns were founded on a mistaken premise; my father knew I was too much of a coward to warn you of the danger.”

  “A coward would have kept quiet and proved her father right.”

  She worried at her lip so hard he wondered that she didn’t draw blood. “Do you remember… At the ball in Siu Carinal, I gave you some childish piece of rubbish. I was such a silly goose…”

  “If by ‘rubbish,’ you mean ‘a handsome and expensive hair ribbon,’ yes, I remember it.” He pointed at the clothing she had helped him remove. “Now it’s your turn to meet a silly goose, Kelena—I’ve kept that ribbon in my breast pocket since the night you gave it to me.” He laughed, embarrassed by the admission. “Sort of like a knight with his lady’s favor.”

  “Oh. I hoped you had tossed it out.”

  “Of course not. I wanted a reminder of you close by, so I couldn’t lose sight of my goal.”

  She leaned up onto her elbow and cupped his face in her hands.

  “But now you’ll throw it away, won’t you?” She kissed him deeply, trying for wanton perhaps, but coming off as beautifully innocent. She tasted like the citrusy wine the Helat mixed with their water at the evening meal. “Now that you have me, you don’t need a reminder anymore.”

  Clarencio was reluctant to get rid of the ribbon—in truth, he leaned more sentimental than practical when it came to these things—but Kelena did her best to convince him.

  In the end, he agreed to consider it.

  end of Book 2 on my Patreon (~30 chapters ahead of where we are now). Check that out if you're interested or if you just want to support my writing!

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