Craning his neck to the side, it popped in protest, but the sound hadn’t even fully penetrated my fixation. Observing the gentle sway of his auburn-blonde locks, I counted the varying strands of beads that he, or someone else, had braided into them.
They were a mix of sky blue, cobalt, and glistening gold, but it was the small one, shaded in a wine-purple, that caught my attention—the colors of the crown. As if to confirm my assumption, he gathered a handful of his hair and pulled it to the side, revealing the branding of the royal crest on the right side of his neck.
“Since you seem to have prodding eyes,” he hummed before allowing the strands to fall back into place. “I do, in fact, bear the mark of our corrupt king’s ruling.”
“So you work alongside the prince’s father?”
“Fuck no.” Scoffing, he bit the inside of his cheek. “Well, it’s complicated.”
“I don’t believe there is any complication in answering with a simple yes or no,” I responded, bringing another spoonful to my lips. “Do you have rightful access to his throne room and gather with him for discussion?”
“If we wish to discuss the nuances, then I suppose I could ask you the same about Malrik, correct?”
My jaw feathered, brows narrowing to cloud my eyes. “This isn’t about that bastard.”
“And I don’t believe our discussion is pertinent to the stain that resides on the throne. But since I feel you and I will get along, I’ll entice you.” Folding his arms over his chest, he trailed his tongue across his teeth. “I was an orphan growing up, and I met Caspian Vayne when I was six, and he was eight. I’d been sold off to the king before he arrived in Serevalen, and once he stumbled into the talons of corruption, I finally felt like I had someone I could rely on. We are only two years apart, and that fact sparked hope in me for an intimate connection at a young age.
“King Marellan wasted no time crafting the two of us into weapons, and we quickly bonded through that anguish. Little did we know, it’d been intentional, and he ensured our closeness became a lever he could pull—we became each other’s weaknesses. He threatened to execute either of us if we disobeyed his orders, so we became the very tools he used to do his bidding: mercenaries.
“Which, in a fucked up sort of way, we still kind of are. His mercenaries, I mean.” Striations danced across his bearded cheeks before he continued. “I’m sure you’re familiar, but you do what you have to do in our world to survive. But the only thing I do for that vile sack of shit anymore is report back when I see Caspian. Though I’d much rather bethe one to execute him myself than give that pass to the man who made my life a living hell since before I could remember.”
A sharp pang reverberated in my chest with his admittance, and I felt… sorry for him?
It came from a place of relatability. My past so closely mirrored his, and I couldn’t help but wish that I had someone with me during the countless years I’d been tormented by Malrik’s hand. Perhaps an unwavering camaraderie would’ve helped me process the trauma more easily or even molded me into someone not as spiteful. Yet, in the same breath, the loathing that plumed from Alastair when discussing the man he once would’ve sacrificed himself for had me doubting even the slightest possibility of benefit.
“So you and Caspian Vayne go all the way back to childhood?” I asked before blowing out a breath. “Sounds miserable.”
“He used to be a good man,” Alastair mumbled, nipping at the soft skin on the inside of his cheek. “Greed has a thing for transforming people into monsters.”
“That’s an understatement.” Nudging the bowl forward with my fingers, I lifted my gaze to meet his. “But you are a pirate, hunting for Ellira’s treasure, are you not? Wouldn’t that immediately classify you in the same grouping as Caspian Vayne?”
“Where Caspian traverses these seas with an insatiable hunger for power, I sail with a stoking burn for retribution. He and I used to share the same mentality, but we no longer do.” Pushing himself upright, he planted his elbows on the table, closing the gap between us. “In all honesty, I couldn’t give two fucks less about that treasure. I run and man this ship out of pure desire to provide an escape, some semblance of freedom after a life of forced imprisonment.”
A soft smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, as I find most men the furthest thing from appetizing, but I think you and Iwillget along well.”
“Didn’t I already tell you that?”
“I suppose.”
He chuckled softly, his golden gaze sparking with what seemed likedeep understanding. “You and I are far too similar, Rohen Levitte; from the nuances of our pasts to our journey at sea.”
“I’ve never sailed?—”
Planting his hands on his thighs, he stood. With one tug, he loosened his linen shirt from where he’d tucked it into the waistband of his breeches. Pulling the material up with a slowness that I couldn’t help but fixate on, the defined edges and contours of his abdomen came into view. He looked like he’d been carved from the most pristine slab of marble, and while I could’ve easily stared at him like a starving whore for hours, my throat dried the instant my gaze found a large, raised scar.
Its jagged pattern started on his left side, puncturing the gap between his ribs. From there, it traversed his stomach, barely missing his belly button before ending just above his right hip. It was an injury that no one should’ve survived, but somehow he had, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Jaskor had blessed him just as equally as Ellira had me.
“By the grace of the gods,” I breathed. “What… What happened?”
A huffed chuckle fled him. “Caspian Vayne happened.” He dropped the fabric, his tongue dancing across his lips. “We sailed together for years, and one night, he tried to kill me in front of the crewwe’dled. By the blessing of Jaskor, the men on this ship found me floating at sea—just as we came across you—and put me back together. Once I was stable, they elected to make me captain of this ship because of my impossible luck. Though if it weren’t for the frigidity of the winter waters, which somehow preserved my body and slowed the bleeding, I’d have been on Elaros’s doorstep long ago.”
“Seems we both have a shared vendetta then.” I leaned back against the wall, the bench I occupied offering no back support. Folding my arms over my chest, I cocked my head to the side. “Tell me, Alastair Seridean, is this long-standing quarrel the reason you pulled me onto your ship?”
“Don’t make me sound so arrogant,” he laughed, tucking his shirt back into place. “If we are being honest, partially,butI also feel we’d make a great team.”
“Why? Because you assume I want Caspian Vayne dead?”
“Isn’t that the first thing you said when you woke?”
