Tavia smirked up at him. “I heard you saved my father’s ships from Baleacanis, the sea beast.”
Between the erratic sea storms and the terrifyingly large sea beasts that inhabited the eastern oceans, and the western oceans, and the northern—well, all of the oceans except for the southern oceans because no one had sailed far enough south to find out—sailing had become an increasingly dangerous venture. And despite his scowl and his hair, Captain Julian was largely praised for his fearless destruction of said sea beasts.
And now that Tavia had given the man an opportunity to boast, Lia pre-emptively blinked to stop her eyes from rolling again.
But what the captain would have responded, Lia never got to find out because he was distracted by a grey cat that emerged from beneath a table and snaked its way over to his feet. For the first time, Julian broke eye contact with the princess and stooped down, taking the animal up into his arms. The cat’s purring increased as he slowly stroked its head.
“I like cats,” the captain stated, looking back at Tavia.
Stepping forward, Lia grabbed Tavia’s sleeve. “A word . . .Princess. . .” She put special emphasis on this title hoping Julian would take notice. He did not.
“Oh, excuse me,” Tavia said politely to Julian.
Lia, having at least the bare minimum respect for royalty, did not exactlydragTavia from the room. But she hurried her through the nearest open door and into a mostly empty hallway.
“May I speak plainly, princess?” Lia said once they were well out of earshot of any passing guests and kitchen staff.
“Of course,” the princess answered, furrowing her delicate golden brows. Lia had removed most of Tavia’s actual brows and what remained was more like a carefully painted line. Lia would have liked to leave a little more width, but apparently thick brows were “unbecoming” in Allys at the moment and according to her grandmother, “The princess is always right.”
“No.” Lia stated.
“No . . . what?” Tavia asked, her eyebrows drawing together until they were almost a single line.
“I know you,” Lia said. “You like him. And . . .No.”
The princess’s jaw dropped. The tiny brows were now crinkled with annoyance. “Why?”
“He is so rude!” Lia insisted. “Who would dare speak to the princess that way?”
Tavia crossed her arms. “Youdo, for one. You do it all the time, like right now.”
Lia rolled her eyes, thus exhausting the daily supply allotted by her grandmother.
“I askedpermissionfirst,” Lia pointed out.
“First of all,” Tavia argued. “He is notrude. He isbold. It means he sees me as an equal, andIrespect that.”
“He sees you asinferior,” Lia stated, remembering the judgment in that man’s unblinking stare.
Tavia scoffed and turned her face back toward the ballroom.
“There are at least a dozen eligible suitors there,” Lia pointed out.
“And they're all thesame!” the princess whined. “Spoiled, arrogant, little shrews who have never accomplished anything for themselves.”
“What about Lord Tyrell?” Lia asked. She had noticed the young Allysian nobleman as soon as they had entered the ballroom. Apparently, Captain Julian was not the only man in the room who had been staring at Tavia.
“What about him?” Tavia asked, sounding genuinely oblivious.
“He’s kind and respectful and he lov—”
“He’s boring,” Tavia interrupted. She stepped forward, moving back toward the ballroom.
“Only because you have never taken the time to talk to him!” Lia shot back. She wanted to throw her hands in the air, and she almost did since the princess’s back was turned.
“Do you know what I think?” Princess Tavia exclaimed, twirling back around to her handmaiden. “I think you do not like Captain Julian because of his blue beard.”
Lia was about to protest, but instead released a defeated sigh and stiffened her eye muscles.
