Page 14 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

My pulse shifted off rhythm, then steadied. I didn’t understand why.

I held his gaze long enough to make sure he understood what he saw—not fear, not resignation, not the compliance of the women who had stopped fighting. I let the disgust show, the way I had once held the queen’s stare in the throne room. Then I looked away. My choice, not his.

“Sold!” The conductor raised a fist in the air.

How I wished I could send that fist to his face.

When the conductor placed a hand on Minha’s shoulder, she shoved it off without looking at him. When he tried again, she leaned close and said something that made the color rise in his neck. Whatever she threatened, the buyers chuckled. That led to a bidding war which became intense for her. She sold for twenty coins to the fisherman.

“Wait.” I stepped forward. “The three of us are together.”

“Is that so?” The conductor grinned like I had done him a favor. “Forty for her and the smaller one.”

“Her name is Jina,” I said through gritted teeth.

He dismissed me and started the bidding.

The fisherman dragged Minha away. She glanced back, clenching her teeth, then her eyes found mine with a message. I’ll find you.

The last thing I saw was her chin up, refusing to go down as anything less than herself. Then she was out of my sight.

It took seconds to process I might never see her again. The space she had always filled—every day, every meal, every night curled together on the cavern floor—would be empty now.

“Wait. Please.” My throat tightened. “We’ve never been apart.”

The desperation in my voice was unfamiliar. I had never begged before. Not once in twenty-five years. Not for myself. But this was Minha, my sister, my family.

My hand moved toward the dagger but stopped when Jina’s fingers closed around my wrist. Not here, her mouth moved. We both knew I would be punished or killed on the spot. I let my hand fall.

“They’re Seaborn.” Resse stepped forward from the shadows. She let the word sit a moment before she said it again. “Seaborn. Bidding starts at fifty.”

Voices murmured around us and I couldn’t catch the words. What did Seaborn mean anyway? Brando had used it like an insult, tossing it at us the way Agusto tossed defective pearls into the metal bucket. But Resse had said it differently, letting it sit in the air before she said it again, and the buyers had responded. The bidding had climbed.

Whatever the word meant, it was worth something to these people. I didn’t yet understand, but I would. For now, the only thing I cared about was staying with Jina.

Please. If the sea goddess was listening, if she existed at all, let her hear this one prayer. Keep us together. She hadn’t saved my family from the cavern. She hadn’t stopped Agusto’s whip or the king’s cruelty or any of it. But perhaps she could do this one small thing. Perhaps that wasn’t too much to ask.

“I’ll take these two,” the older one in fine cloth said.

“Fifty-one coins,” the woman called.

“Sixty-five,” the fisherman hissed.

“Seventy.” The man in the dark coat smirked at the older one in fine cloth.

He wasn’t buying. He was running the price up for sport, that much was clear from the lazy way he raised his hand, like the whole thing amused him. The arrogance on his face made me want to shove him into the ditch.

I found the bidding war darkly amusing too. We had spent our whole lives worth nothing—no names, no history, no value beyond the pearls we pried open with aching fingers. And now, because of one word, the price kept climbing.

Seaborn. Whatever it meant, it had just made us the most expensive people in the room.

“Seventy-five.” The older man’s voice grew louder. “And I’ll add pearls.”

The conductor let the silence stretch as his gaze swept at the buyers and raised a fist.

“Seventy-five… going once… twice…” He brought his hand down. “Sold!”

I exhaled. So did Kit, who hadn’t moved from his spot at the top of the steps. His eyes were on Jina the entire ceremony.