I bat his hand away and level my stare. “Can’t you just ... fix it?”
He looks at the floorboards, then cracks off a loose splinter of wood, gouging a dent in one of my doodles. “Broken things can’t always be fixed. Unfortunately.”
Something inside me recoils.
“I’d rather spend my resources on more important things.” He pockets the splintered token. “Chin up.”
Right.
Tipping my head, I cast my gaze skyward again, until Cainon dabs at the bruised peak of my chin. I flinch, but he steadies my face and continues his ministrations—swiping the sharp line of my jaw to the lobe of my ear, down the length of my throat. “You have a very beautiful neck.”
He’s never seen my neck. My face.
The real me.
“Now you return with a compliment. That’s how this courting thing goes.”
“You’re not courting me.”
“I am.”
“Then you’re off to a shit start.”
There’s a brief stretch of silence while he swipes back up my throat, across to my other ear. “I take it you’re not impressed by my fleet.”
“Not unless it’s going straight to Ocruth,” I deadpan, and his hand pauses.
I drop my gaze, watching from beneath lowered lids as his face dawns with stark realization.
“You were listening ...”
To his and Rhordyn’s veryprivateconversation.
“Guilty,” I admit, my voice entirely void of it.
“Interesting ...”
“So? Are they going straight to Ocruth?”
Wind whips my hair into a flaxen scribble between us while he watches me, eyes coasting back and forth in smooth, calculating paths. “There’s a storm coming from the north—”
“And these ships were built to withstand rough weather. Firsthand witness,” I say, raising my bandaged hand. “They self-correct.”
“—What we call aship smasher,”he continues, ignoring my negation. “It’s five days to a safe port southward. Weeks to Ocruth with kickback from the swell.”
“So you’re turning back around.”
A long pause, then, “Correct. Straight back to the capital.”
Something cold and acidic spills through me, settling deep.
I swallow, stab my stare skyward, and watch the gulls churn. “Then no,” I mutter. “I’m not impressed by yourfleet.”
He grips my chin and tugs my face down with commanding poise, snatching my stare, scattering my heartbeats. “That’s not very nice. It came all this way to see you.”
“For being afew days late.”
“You’re aweeklate. And I did warn you, so no point being pissed about it.”
