He adjusted his weight, leaning further into his seat, closing his hands around one knee. “Were your parents both born there?”
“My father was. My mother was shipwrecked there. She had difficulty with speech, no one ever worked out where she was born.”
“What do your parents do?”
“My father works—owns the fishing boats. On our estate,” I quickly amended, remembering my father was a lord. “My mother died in an accident when I was very young.”
“My deepest apologies.” Hooves clattered from outside. He coughed and cleared his throat. “What sort of fish does your father catch?”
I sighed, impatient with his sudden interest in my history, and reminded myself to behave. Hadrian was the future king. “The daily catch is tuna, but shark when we're lucky.”
“Whales? Is your father more likely to catch whales in the colder seasons?”
I frowned. “Whales appear at the height of the rainy season,winterfor you. We have no winter. We have dry or wet seasons.”
“And fishers use a giant hook to haul whales back to land, correct?”
I sent him a sharp stare. He wastestingme. Assessing the depth of my knowledge of Leihani.
Why would he do that? Unless—
Kye. Kye had warned him I wasn’t who I said I was. He’d warned him to be wary of me.
“We don’t enjoy the taste of whale meat. It's… fat and blubbery.” I chewed my lip for a moment and continued. “Sometimes the body of a sperm whale will wash ashore. We could sell the bones. They’re rare. Traders offer high prices for them. But they’re too precious.”
We faced each other in silence. Diara shifted in her seat, eyes narrowing in Hadrian’s direction. My brows gathered, my chin set. I waited for another prompt. Hadrian leisurely uncrossed his legs and recrossed them the other way. He picked at his nails.
“What kind of grass do you weave into baskets in Leihani?” It was phrased as a question, but I understood the challenge posed to me underneath.
“Pili grass.”
“How tall are the beds?”
I started, mouth already open, and offered him a strange look. “We sleep on mats.”
“And what do you use for a pillow?”
“Hollowed logs.”
“What are the smaller boats called?”
“Which boats do you mean? The smaller voyaging boats, or the one-man fishing boats?”
He tossed a shoulder into the air. “The one-man.”
“Canoes.”
“Outrigger canoes,” he corrected, lifting a brow as if he’d caught me.
Diara let out a snicker of indignation. She crossed her arms, glaring openly at the crown prince.
I leaned in close to him, my voice low and patient. “The correct word isva’a. The smaller voyaging boats have double hulls. They’re calledHokule’as.”
He laughed without humor, then coughed into the skin of his forearm before turning to Diara. “You’re from Pirou, Lady Diana?”
Pale green eyes flared at the mistake. “Yes.”
“Beautiful mountains in Pirou.”
