Page 146 of Tempest

She could hardly square the pirate captain in front of her now with a clean-cut sailor of the imperial navy, subject to rules and regulations and the whims of sneering officers. Loyal to the Crown, and nothing else.

“Why?” she breathed, studying his long hair and bearded jaw, his tattoos, his jewelry, trying and failing to picture Valerian in naval uniform.

He let her look, silent, a shadow creeping across his face. His throat bobbed over his collar as he swallowed, pushing something down.

“I served a year in the Lyrian Sea, and in that year I saw enough,” he forced out, the words heavy and final. It was not difficult to see the pain in his eyes, the green flickering with the candlelight as he knocked back another sip of taquil.

Cat did the same, wincing at the good burn, wondering what spurred the darkness now stealing over Valerian like an oncoming storm.

“Was it Morovant who gave you the choice?”

At that, Valerian grinned, the clouds clearing from his face.

“It’s my turn, Lady Rose,” he said, shaking a finger at her. But his eyes darted, finding the captain of the Seadragon across the room. Morovant had returned to his corner, another glass of wine in hand and a smile on his lips.

It was, Cat thought, reading the fond look on Valerian’s face. His features smoothed and it was not difficult to imagine the boy he was, on the deck of another ship, facing the skull on Morovant’s flag. Finding not fear or death but freedom.

“Ask your question,” she prodded.

His grin turned sharkish, and Cat suddenly wished to be back at the table with Morovant.

“What do you think of the lieutenant?”

She almost broke a second glass. Her mind spun, pulled by equal parts surprise and indignance. Blinking quickly, she tried to recover, her tone turning sharp and prim, as if addressing him over a pot of tea.

“Do you mean Lieutenant Fell?”

“No, the other navy officer locked in my brig. Yes, him,” Valerian teased, leaning closer. The heat of him felt all-encompassing, until the air seemed to sizzle on Cat’s exposed skin. “What do you think of him?”

“I do not know him well,” Cat replied, withdrawing a little. But Valerian only pressed forwards, filling the space between them.

“He seems to know you well enough to call you Cat,” the pirate drawled. “Lady Rose.”

Her cheeks burned and Cat knew her face was turning scarlet. “I cannot control what men call me, Captain. Nor what they assume. But he is an officer of the fleet, and he has been kind to me,” she added, somewhat begrudgingly. Again, she felt the shame of it, knowing Fell was chained in the belly of a ship, with the worst man alive for company. “He is one of the only people to be kind to me in this whole wretched sea.”

At that, Valerian tipped his head like a curious beast, locks of hair falling with the motion.

“Have I been kind to you, Cat?” he said in a low voice that made her toes curl.

“It’s my turn,” she replied, her tone dropping to match his.

That seemed to please him, the corners of his mouth twitching into another crooked grin.

“How will you spend my ransom?”

The smile dropped as swiftly as it came, and Cat felt as if she had scored another point in their strange game. The taquil warmed in her throat.

“Unless, of course, you do not wish to answer,” she added, watching Valerian think.

Finally, he relented.

“I suppose I could buy a few bottles of rum with it,” he said, a spark of mischief in his eye.

It was far better than pity, and Cat huffed a laugh. “Bad rum,” she mumbled, regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

And then not regretting them in the same heartbeat.

“What makes you say that?” Valerian sharpened, dropping his voice so that only she could hear. He wore an expectant look, as if he already knew what she was going to tell him.