Page 22 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

Kota offered her a small smile. “Safe travels. May kind winds bring you home.”

Nore wasn’t sure what to say, so she only nodded, and left her office behind. It was always a bit odd, leaving for another of Celestine’s missions, knowing that there was the chance she would never be coming back.

She walked to the harbor with the knowledge that Sparrow was shadowing her. It was nothing personal: partially protection, and partially to make sure Nore boarded the ship. After her shameful breakdown the other night, Nore couldn’t fault them. No matter what Celestine said, no matter what she promised Nore and what expectations she did or didn’t have for her long-term career, Nore suspected the duchess’s confidence in her ability was somewhat thin at the moment.

Nore found the ship easily in the harbor; it was not one of her own, but another trade ship, captained by someone in or adjacent to Celestine’s employ. She found her ticket in her pocket and joined the queue of passengers. Most would get off at the first stop, in the northern territories that bordered Lindan; from there, the ship would continue, carrying goods and a scant few passengers toward Idistra.

Her luggage and sample cases were already on board. So, too, she assumed, was Caspian. Knowing Celestine’s ways, he had probably already been loaded in the hours before dawn.

She handed over her ticket and followed one of the crew as they escorted her to her small, cold cabin. Nore’s trunk was already inside, and she was grimly unsurprised to find another trunk of provisions and clothing for Caspian. When the door shut behind the sailor, leaving Nore alone, Sparrow detached from the shadows.

“You made it,” they said.

Nore nodded, removing her cloak and gloves. The cold was instant and bracing; she wished she’d left at least her cloak on, but she wasn’t going to show any weakness now. “I’m here,” Nore said. “I didn’t run.”

“No one expected you to run, Finch.”

She leveled them with a long, piercing look. Sparrow only shrugged.

Nore opened her trunk and started to go through her things. Sometimes, one of the duchess’s handlers removed items they deemed too distinctive when she traveled, and she’d return home to find them waiting for her on her bed or dresser. The only thing she could recall missing was a jewelry case with her initials carved into the lid, which she probably should’ve left behind anyway.

Curiosity got the better of her. She opened the trunk someone had packed for Caspian. “Will Mr. Khari be joining me here?” Nore asked, unable to keep the tightness out of her voice.

“Her grace thought that would be too much,” Sparrow said. Nore winced. “He is currently in his own room. The crew will look after him for now. It is your decision when you choose to release him.”

Nore turned. Sparrow held out a key, one very similar to her own, needed to enter this room. She took it, adding it to the chain she always wore around her neck, now with the medallion nestled against the ring she always wore. She was unable to form a full thought without her mind racing ahead to fantastical tragedies that could befall them if they shared a room again.

“The thief is your responsibility, Finch. If he strangles himself with his own shirt halfway through the voyage, the duchess will be displeased. But she recognizes that you, in your state, may be a greater threat to his safety. So release him when you are ready, and not a second before.”

Nore’s mouth was too dry to swallow. “He is… my prisoner?”

“He is.”

Her palms were clammy with sweat. All this time, five years of imagining the worst things she could possibly do to Caspian if he was ever in her possession… and now this. This.

She could kill him. Throw his body overboard. And nobody would know.

She could be free of him, truly free of him, forever.

If she killed Caspian, Celestine certainly would not choose her as a successor, and her mission would be doomed to fail. She would probably be labeled a traitor to the Lindle crown and imprisoned herself.

Nore now understood why Sparrow had cautioned her not to release him until her homicidal thoughts had quieted.

“Until Idistra,” Sparrow amended, their eyes on her face. “At which point, you know what must be done.”

If Caspian even makes it to Idistra, she amended. “I know,” Nore said. He was to act as her husband, and she would find the whole thing unbearable.

“And here is your dossier, as requested,” Sparrow said, handing over a thick packet of papers. Nore did not allow her hand to shake as she took them. “Along with your final instructions and details on the artifact Khari is to retrieve.” Sparrow shifted their weight, leaning against the door. “Mr. Khari has already been instructed, but the full information is there for you as well. Her grace requests that you dispose of the information after it has been properly digested. She has included her usual means for communication in your trunk, to be used sparingly.”

“Right,” Nore said. She flipped through the packet, purposely skipping over the section on Caspian. If she read it now, she could not be certain what it would dredge up in her. Nore found the brief on the artifact easily enough and skimmed the first few lines.

A paragraph in, Nore’s gaze snapped to Sparrow. “The duchess wants to resurrect someone?”

“It is not your concern what the duchess wants with the object,” Sparrow said. “Your only concern on the matter is ensuring that Mr. Khari successfully acquires it.”

Nore bit her tongue. “Of course,” she said. What was wrong with her this week? For years, she’d done her job well. She’d never fought back, never asked for more than she needed to know. For so long she’d been happy to remain steadfast.

Except—of course Nore knew what was wrong, and it might’ve had something to do with the deep umber of Caspian’s eyes burning against her eyelids every time she tried to sleep.