Kingdom of Sea and Stone

“I’m afraid it’s not,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “But it can wait for just a minute longer.”

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the specter of whatever bad news had chased Talin here. “Zadie saw you, didn’t she?” I remembered the funny look on her face when she’d told me to come out and do the wash.

I could feel his jaw shift into a smile against the top of my head. “Yes. I hoped it was you, from a distance. But the way she placed both hands over her mouth when she saw me convinced me immediately it wasn’t.”

“Why? Too ladylike?”

“Something like that,” he murmured.

I punched him lightly in the side.

He let out a gentle oof, which was clearly feigned. “That’s more like it.”

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to pinch him or kiss him, and I suspected that was what he liked about me. From the moment he’d first seen me, sodden hair and clothing dripping water onto Governor Kristos’s floorboards, I’d been far from the model of feminine grace my mother had tried to mold.

“Don’t tell me you made it all the way from Ilara in that,” I said, noticing the prow of a small rowboat peeking out from below the balcony for the first time.

“My men have the ship. I thought it best if they waited farther out to sea.” He held up a finger at my confused expression. “I promise I’ll explain. Come on, you can show me how to wield the oars properly.”

“I should stay here. Most of the village doesn’t know I’m back yet.”

Now it was his turn to look at me askance. “We need to talk, Nor. Preferably alone.” He brushed my loose hair aside and kissed my neck, and just like that, I realized how badly I wanted time alone with him, too. It had been next to impossible to spend time together in Ilara, and now we had an entire ocean at our disposal.

“Of course,” I said, momentarily allowing my fears to recede into the background. “Come on.”

I rowed us far enough out that the odds of being discovered were slim. The water was a bit choppy and the horizon was thick with ominously dark clouds, but I kept the anchor up in case we needed to leave in a hurry. I sat on the bench next to Talin and let the rocking of the waves nudge me closer to him. The sleeves of his tunic were rolled up to the elbows, revealing tanned forearms corded with muscles. Hesitantly, I ran my fingers along the contours, still not quite believing he was real, and goose bumps erupted on his skin.

“I forgot about how ticklish you are,” I murmured.

When he smiled, my stomach fluttered. I’d also forgotten how he could make me lose my head with just a glance. Back in Ilara, my attraction to Talin had gotten me into trouble more than once. But out here, with no one around to judge me, I could indulge myself, just a little.

“What?” Talin asked.

I’d been staring. I didn’t care. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He twined his fingers through mine, bringing our hands up to brush his lips softly against my skin. This time I was the one to shiver. “I was afraid you were suffering, but when I saw you on the balcony, dancing in the sunlight...”

I laughed. “That was not dancing. You caught me in a brief moment of indulgence. I’m still trying to get the cold from New Castle out of my bones.”

“But that’s just it, Nor. Even when everything around you is falling apart, you manage to find those moments of joy.”

I blushed and glanced away. “You’re giving me far too much credit. I have done more than my share of complaining, I assure you.”

I felt his finger curl under my chin, tugging it gently toward him. Slowly, I brought my eyes up to his. The last time I had seen Talin, everything had been urgent and desperate. I had just escaped New Castle, and he had revealed the secret of his mother and sister. And of course, I had stabbed Ceren. The world seemed far too complicated then.

But right now, it seemed so wonderfully simple. He tucked my hair behind my ears with callused fingers, cupping my face in his hands, and pressed a kiss to the scar on my right cheek. Then another, to my left cheek. I closed my eyes, dizzy with anticipation. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I murmured.

Talin’s grip tightened almost imperceptibly, and I felt him lean back. “Nor?”

I opened my eyes to see that all the joy had evaporated from his face. Nothing was simple, I reminded myself. Not when it came to us. “What is it, Talin?”

He shook his head. “I’m so sorry for what I’m about to tell you.”

My blood ran cold as he let his hands fall from my face, taking their warmth with them.

“Ceren is...” He swallowed thickly and forced himself to meet my eyes, though I could see it pained him. “My brother is still alive.”

3



A sick, sinking feeling pulled my stomach toward the ocean beneath us. No, no, no. I couldn’t accept that everything I’d sacrificed, everything I’d been through, had been for nothing.

“How?” I managed, my voice hardly more than a whisper.

Talin placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, grounding me. “You injured him gravely below the mountain. When his guards found him, they believed he was dead. They brought him up to his room, where the royal physician removed the knife. The wound had clotted around the blade. He was alive, but barely.”

“My blood,” I breathed. “It saved him.”

“Yes.”

Hot tears seeped out from between my closed eyes. All this time, I believed I had saved Ceren that day at the lake, only to kill him beneath the mountain. The truth was, I had stabbed Ceren, only for my own cursed blood to save him.

“There was a pearl in the hilt of the coral blade,” Talin said after a moment. “A bright red pearl, I’m told. Ceren had it ground down. He consumed that as well. It helped significantly. He healed in two days.”

The pearl had come from the oyster I’d been diving for the day of the incident, when I saved Zadie from drowning and sustained the injury that caused all of this. It made sense, I supposed. If a pink Varenian pearl had strong healing properties, a pearl like the one in the coral knife must be even more powerful. I should have pulled the blade back out when I ran that night. He would have bled out faster, and he wouldn’t have had the pearl to help him heal.

Fear and anger built in my chest until I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. “Damn it!” I shouted, slamming my fists against the bench.

Talin’s grip on my shoulders never faltered. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “So very, very sorry.”

I leaned forward and buried my face in his tunic. “I’m sorry,” I whispered against the soft fabric. “I should be grateful I don’t have his life on my conscience. But I can’t be.” My voice broke on a sob.