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They walked down the pathway, the sound of the sea growing louder as they drew closer to the docks. Seagulls cried overhead, circling against the backdrop of the clear sky, their white forms standing out starkly against the blue. She squeezed Endreth’s hand in excitement. He returned it.
The ship was magnificent, a towering vessel made of pale wood that shimmered in the sunlight, with sails that looked as if they were woven from threads of gold. The emblem of the Crimson court—an oval, crimson stone entwined in golden vines with golden thorns—was stitched onto the fore sail, catching the light as it flapped gently in the sea breeze.
Two elven males moved purposefully toward the front of the ship, carrying lengths of finely braided golden chains which glinted in the sunlight—Anthea followed the length of the chains and her breath hitched. Attached to the other end were creatures of such beauty and grace they seemed more a product of a dream than reality. Five luminescent seahorses, as large as real horses but with smooth, glistening bodies, were harnessed to the ship’s bow. Their bodies shimmered with an ethereal glow, the scales reflecting the sunlight in a myriad of golden hues. Their eyes were a brilliant, piercing blue.
“Virens,” Endreth explained, his hand on the small of her back. His voice held a hint of pride as he continued. “Magnificent, aren’t they? An ancient breed, with an innate connection to the sea and magic. Their speed and stamina in water is unmatched. With them, our journey to the Cattleya court will take only two days. Without them, it would take us five.”
His words brought her out of her trance, and she tore her eyes away from the mesmerizing sight to look at him. His eyes were alight with excitement. She smiled.
“They are beautiful,” she said and turned her eyes back to the Virens.
Anthea stepped into the small cabin she was to share with Endreth. Her eyes instantly landed on a single bed nestled into the corner—a plush feather mattress with fine linen sheets. The sight of it stirred something within her, a flicker of anticipation. She quickly dismissed it. This was for show, a necessary precaution. The Crimson court was under tight scrutiny by the Obsidian court, and their alliance was new and fragile. It would be strange for a slave taken to a moon festival not to share quarters with her master. She glanced from the bed to a small table, just big enough to hold a couple of books, a carafe of a golden liquid, and two cups. Adjacent to it, a tiny cabinet concealed a restroom. A porthole, rimmed with white wood, revealed the vast expanse of the cerulean sea, offering her a view she would treasure.
Anthea felt the ship start to move, a slight lurch under her feet that made her grip the edge of the table for support. This was it—no going back now.
Her legs took her outside. Endreth was helping the ship’s crew with the sails. His hair, the color of the most vibrant autumn leaves, danced freely in the sea breeze, glowing against the backdrop of the morning sun. His face was alight with an uncharacteristic boyish charm. He had taken off his coat, revealing a white v-necked blouse and black leather pants beneath. He laughed at something another elf said—the sound of it echoed above the sound of the lapping waves and creaking ship, a sound so rare it made her heart flutter in her chest. His eyes met hers, gleaming with excitement. It was as though the sea had awakened something within him. A small smile tugged at her lips, the sight of this ‘sea Endreth’ was warming her heart in a way she hadn’t anticipated.
“Endreth always did have an affinity for the sea.” The sound of Aegonar’s voice drifted toward her before she spotted his towering figure. His keen gaze was fixed on his brother’s form on the deck below. “His duties at the court leave little time for him to indulge in such pursuits. But when it comes to our travels, he never misses a chance to be hands-on.”
Anthea turned to face the heir.
“How do you find your accommodations on board, Anthea?”
A blush bloomed on her cheeks at his words. She hoped the flush could be mistaken for the effects of the sea breeze. “The cabin seems . . . comfortable,” she said, turning her gaze back to Endreth, who was fixing a rope to one of the masts.
“Remember. Our focus should be the vault at the Cattleya court. Do not let anything . . . distract you.” There was a flicker of hesitation in the older prince’s voice.
Anthea’s eyes narrowed slightly at his presumption. “I am well aware what our focus is.” She kept her eyes on Endreth, on his broad back, admiring how his back muscles contracted as he pulled on one of the sails.
When night fell, the view outside the cabin’s small window transformed into something otherworldly. The sea glowed in the light of the moons. Stars speckled the inky expanse of the sky, twinkling like jewels scattered across black velvet.
The golden wine was tempting in its crystal decanter—so Anthea poured herself a glass, and savored the sweet and slightly tart flavor. A warmth spread through her—a familiar buzz that reminded her of whiskey at home. Cradling the glass in her hands, she glanced at the bed. How exactly would they share it? She thought of Endreth on the deck earlier: he had looked so different. He had looked enticing. She pushed the thought away as she moved to freshen up. She changed into a simple linen nightdress and splashed some water onto her face. The cold water was refreshing.
Anthea was halfway done with her third glass of the golden wine when the cabin door swung open—it was Endreth.
The sight stole her breath away. His auburn hair was tousled, framing his handsome face, and his ocean eyes glowed in the soft cabin light, holding an echo of the ocean’s wild freedom.
He looked . . . beautiful. Wild. Free.
Alluring—
A wave of warmth surged through her. She wanted to glide her fingers through his tousled locks. His eyes met hers and her face flushed.
Endreth stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
Anthea took another sip from her glass, all the while keeping her gaze fixed on him. “You look . . . different.” Her lips curled into a smile. “The sea agrees with you, Endreth.”
The prince’s gaze found the bottle on the table and the glass in her hand. “How many have you had, Thea?” he asked, his eyes lingered on her flushed cheeks.
She chuckled lightly. “Not too many.” Anthea twirled the liquid in her glass, watching it dance. “It’s only my third.”
“Careful, it is strong.” He moved, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his white blouse as he reached for a glass of his own. The way Endreth filled his glass was slow, almost methodical. There was a slight tension in the set of his shoulders, a hint of uncertainty that made her curiosity stir. Was he affected by their close quarters as much as she was? Endreth took a generous sip.
Her eyes returned to the small window, captivated by the ethereal beauty of the moonlit sea. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she murmured.
“It is,” Endreth agreed, but when she turned back to him, his eyes were on her. Her heart fluttered in her chest, a mixture of surprise and something she didn’t dare name.
Anthea rose from the bed. Her fingers brushing his shoulder lightly as she reached him. “You look tense,” she stated softly, trying to keep her voice steady. His gaze flickered to where her hand rested on his shoulder, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Her hand moved almost on its own accord, trailing lightly up to his cheek, a soft brush against his jaw. “I like you on the sea,” she confessed, glancing at his lips. What would it be like to taste them, to feel them against hers? She brushed her thumb against his bottom lip—catching a droplet of the golden drink. He stood still like a statue as Anthea moved her thumb to her own lips, tasting the tip of it with her tongue. She lifted her eyes from his lips—he was focused entirely on her, pinning her with his gaze, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. There was a question in his eyes—a silent plea she quickly understood. Anthea smiled.
