Page 232 of The Discount Damsel

When they parted, Millie stole a moment to just cup her cheeks in her palms and lean out over the windowsill to gaze at the dragon’s wondrous gift. “This is absolutely brilliant, Master Dirk, truly. What’s her name?”

“That’s for you to decide.” He slid around her into her bedroom. “All packed, yes? Let’s load ’er up!”

While Dirk busied himself outfitting and provisioning the ship, the tower residents assembled themselves upon the shady sand beneath the galleon. A steeply angled gangway lead into the belly of the ship. With its sails furled, a chain and anchor kept the galleon relatively still for boarding.

“I have to go save my sister,” Millie said without preamble. “You are welcome to join me. In fact, there is a place for each and every one of you in my court, should you wish.”

“As co-regent?” Prince Henri asked.

Fink hissed at him, and the frog harrumphed from the safety of his birdcage.

“There is no time to do it now, but I can also return you to your homes. Sir Roger? I know your wife must be missing you terribly.”

“Not just her.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “But I will help you finish this first. Gotta train you how to use those cannons, after all. And, perhaps Tabitha could join us after? Seems like this ship could use a cook and a laundress, and no one can season a stew or starch a collar like my Tabby.”

“And I’m not going back to my father,” Duncan said vehemently. “It’s time I made a good person rich. Just point me to my bunk.” The gnome hoisted the books he’d brought with him from Calumbria under his arm and began boarding.

“Fink and I are sticking with you, bestie, obviously.” Pocket followed after Duncan. She brought the birdcage with her, telling the frog that he could either accompany them or be left in the sand to shrivel up like a green prune.

That left only the sorcerer, who had finally recovered and stood a few paces away, the desert breeze playing with the hem of his blue robe and teasing his black curls. A proud smile tugged at his lips.

“Whose idea was the flag?” she asked.

“Do you like it? I can change it if⁠—”

“Don’t you dare.” Millie crossed the sand and slid her arms around his waist. She propped her chin against his chest and smiled up at him. “I absolutely love it.”

Bradley’s pulse danced at the sight of those freckled cheeks and mischievous brown eyes. “I noticed out of all the flowers at that vendor in Pierpont, you bought the tulips. And since you didn’t ever comment on the desert rose furnishings in your bedroom, I made an educated guess.”

“If I didn’t already have a favorite flower, the desert rose would’ve been it because you chose it for me.”

“Stop that.”

She startled. “Stop what?”

“Stop saying things that make me want to carry you to someplace soft and private when we have your sister to save.” He ducked his head to plant a kiss on her lips that threatened to muddle her thoughts like an expertly crafted mint julep. She moaned a little protest when he pulled back. His eyes twinkled. “Have you thought of a name for your ship? It’s bad luck to start a maiden voyage without a name.”

She’d thought up a dozen names already and discarded all but one of them. “Tula.”

Bradley cocked an eyebrow.

“What? The name grew on me. And doesn’t it embody everything I am and hope to inspire in others?”

He kissed her again, soft and quick. “I’ll inscribe it right now.” The crystal glowed as he used the staff to write Tula in glowing script in the air in front of him, then pushed it towards the bare nameplate at the stern of the ship. This final task complete, he offered her his hand. “All aboard?”

She took it, not because she needed its steadiness to ascend the gangway, but simply because she wanted to be near him. The Mutineer Millie of months ago never would’ve let a man undercut her independence in any way, perceived or actual, but that Mutineer Millie didn’t have a Bradley Donmarin at her side.

When she stepped onto the deck of her vessel, nothing but the jitters of the upcoming adventure flittered about her stomach. There was no flush of heat across her skin, no churn of nausea in her gut. Her seasickness didn’t exist in the sky.

Millie sighed so deeply, her knees almost buckled. Then she scurried up the stairs to the quarter deck and the helm. Perched upon the bowsprit, Festus gave an impatient caw. Sir Roger led the others in weighing anchor, and the slinky blue luck dragon zipped about unfurling the sails and filling them with wind. Tula leaned forward, eager to be off.

“What’s the plan, Captain?” Bradley took the mainline in hand with a practiced grip, preparing to put her command into action. “Straight to Amberly?”

Millie secured her hat to her head against the wind and shook out her shoulders. Her gloved hands roamed fondly over the helm’s spokes. “Not quite. We’re going to need a distraction if we’re going to get past the Leightonian guard. Someone to keep that Skybreaker from shooting us out of the sky. And I know just where to find him.”

CHAPTER 94

WANDERER’S REST, A PROMISE OF MASSIVE PROPERTY DAMAGE, SIR EUSTACE IS NOT RID OF THEM YET