Page 150 of Crown of the Courtesan

A panting sailor runs up, clutching wads of torn fabric. Valora’s voice sounds muffled as she orders the crew to wrap Rett’s bloody arm in linens and to apply pressure. She follows them as they take away his body. “Get the fire going—as hot as it will go. We must cauterize the injury.”

The whispers buzz in my ears.

Lir drops his cutlass on the decking behind me and embraces me tighter.

Something glints in the sunlight at my feet. Falling to my knees, I pick up Rett’s ring, crusted with so much blood that not even the inscribed Dead-Fae words are legible.

I gaze upward into the sightless eyes of Lir. My former lover—his comfort, the only blessing in my life for so long.

Ashland steps out of the shadows of the mast, his gaze drifting between us. “You regard my captain in quite the familiar manner.”

Lir stays silent.

Too silent.

Ashland studies Lir another second before standing next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder with an ease of familiarity. “Care to elaborate on how this came to be?”

I don’t answer, not daring to breathe. Lir was my secret for so long, and now everything is exposed in the bright light of day.

When I don’t answer, Ashland hesitates, his eyes finding mine. “I see. Well, you should know that Lir helps us monitor people, places… situations.”

I stand up, my mind reeling. “That isn’t possible. He’s a mercenary for Alexandria.” I remember Ashland and Valora mentioning the spies working for them—and my heart stops.

Lir listens intently, keeping his facial expressions neutral, but every muscle in his body grows rigid. He appears to be the same man—but did that person actually exist? Did I even know who he truly was?

Despite his blindness, he’s aware I’m looking straight at him. He says softly, “My biggest regret was keeping my identity from you, but it was necessary for the sake of the war.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Everything was a lie?”

“It wasn’t as if you were truthful, either. I knew you were secretly a Lady Courtesan, but I never dreamed you were the king’s daughter.” Lir steps closer, taking a sharp inhale through his nose. “Please believe me when I say my feelings for you were never a lie. I still harbor as much love for you today as I did yesterday and all the yesterdays that came before. Never doubt that.”

He’s finally expressed the unspoken devotion that drove me away. Confusion and familiar feelings rise to the surface, forcing me to confront the buried memories of our shared past.

Ashland’s frown deepens as his eyes narrow on Lir.

“But you tried to convince me to leave and start a new life with you when you were lying the entire time,” I assert.

Lir reaches for me. “I needed you to abandon the Bidding House and that whole damn system you were trapped in. I didn’t want it to hurt you anymore.”

With an eerie quietness, I ask, “Why doesn’t anybody trust me with the truth?”

“Truth is a luxury in war,” Ashland answers, his voice hard.

“Stop. I’ve heard enough.” My tears run dry, and my hand falls into a tingly numbness that should worry me—but doesn’t.

Ashland walks away. “None of this will matter before long.”

I follow him, close on his heels, and glare upward into his scowling face, forcing him to acknowledge me. Blood pumps through me, hot and reckless. “And what’s your plan? To kill me and seize my kingdom? To rid yourself of the curse I represent?” Even though I already know his answer, I want him to say it. I push on his chest, hoping—no, praying—that it angers him. “Why are you being such a coward? Just end it already!”

But I know he won’t.

Not here.

Lir would never allow it.

He seems surprised when I reveal my knowledge about the curse, but he averts his gaze and approaches the ship’s railing, scoffing. “What is one life when thousands suffer every day?”

Lir joins him, and the two of them stand next to each other, everything uncertain.