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Aren lay on the stone floor, one arm folded under his head for a pillow. It was cold and uncomfortable, and despite his exhaustion, sleep wouldn’t come as he listened to the deepening breathing of those around him, a thousand thoughts filling his head.

When something cold brushed against his chest, Aren almost jumped out of his skin before realizing it was Lara. She was leaning out of the bunk next to him, her eyes lambent in the faint glow of the lamp. Wordlessly she caught hold of his hand with hers and tugged him upward, drawing him onto the bunk.

Pulse roaring in his ears, Aren climbed over her, his back resting against the cold wall, unsure of what to do with his arms and his hands or any part of himself until she curled against him, her skin icy.

She’s just cold,he told himself,and you need to keep your hands to yourself.

Which might well have been the hardest thing he’d ever done, with one of her knees between his, her arms tucked against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, and her breath warm against his throat. He wanted nothing more than to roll onto her, to taste those lips and peel that taunting bit of silk from her chest, but instead he pulled the blanket over her naked shoulder, then rested his hand against her back.

The room was humid with breath and heavy with the smell of sweat and steel. Taryn was snoring as though her life depended on it, Gorrick was jabbering in his sleep, and someone—probably Jor—was farting at regular intervals. It was very likely the least desirable situation to share a bed with hiswifefor the first time. But even as her hair tickled his nose, his arm fell asleep under her head, and a crick formed in his neck, it occurred to Aren, as he drifted off, that there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Hours later, Aren awoke to a rhythmic thumping. Frowning, he turned his head and found Lara’s eyes open and gleaming in the faint light. Pulling one hand from under the blanket, she pointed upward and cocked her eyebrow with an amused smirk.

Gorrick and Lia. Likely warming themselves up after their turn at watch.

He winced, whispering, “Sorry. It’s a soldier’s life.” Then he mentally ran through the watch, realizing that Jor had skipped him over and that Taryn was gone, which meant it was almost sunrise.

“Want to go outside?” Relief filled him when Lara nodded.

They pulled on boots and clothes and weapons in near silence, Lara taking food from one of the crates and following him out into the night. The storm had blown over, the sky a riot of silver stars, the only sound the crashing of the waves against the island’s cliffs.

Taryn was perched on a rock in the shadows, but he heard her murmured thanks when Lara went over and gave her some of the food.

“Aren, take her to the east side.”

“Why?”

Even in the darkness, he felt Taryn smile. “Trust me.”

“All right.” He took Lara’s hand. “We’ll be back at sunrise.”

Aren hadn’t been to this particular island many times, so he went slowly. He managed to find his way to the eastern lookout by memory, a flat bit of rock that hung out over the ocean. A sea of blue starlight stretched before them.

Lara stepped ahead, still holding on to his hand. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

Neither had he, but Aren forced his eyes from her face to the calm water below. “We call it Sea of Stars. It doesn’t happen often, and always during War Tides, so it doesn’t get much appreciation.”

Glowing strands of algae covered the water, the clusters forming brilliant blue spots of light on the sea, making him feel as though he stood between two planes of starlight. It rippled on the gentle waves, casting shadows on the rocks that seemed to dance to the rhythm of the swells. They stood watching for a long time, neither of them speaking, and it occurred to Aren that he should kiss her, but instead he said, “What changed?”

Because something had. Something had shifted, softening her toward him, perhaps to all of Ithicana, and he wasn’t sure what it was. For near as he could tell, most of her experiences since she’d arrived hadn’t been particularly good. She was the daughter of a man who was more Aren’s enemy than his ally, and he shouldn’t trust her. Didn’t trust her. But with every passing day he spent with her, he found himselfwantingto trust her. With everything.

Lara swallowed audibly, pulling her hand from his grip and crossing her legs on the ground, waiting until he sat next to her. The blue light from the sea illuminated her face, making her seem otherworldly and untouchable. “When I was growing up, I was told many times the amount of revenue Ithicana was rumored to make in a year off the bridge.”

“How much?” He shook his head at the number when she answered. “It’s more.”

“Are you bragging?”

“Just being truthful.”

The corner of her mouth quirked, and she was quiet for a moment before she continued. “To me, the amount was staggering. And I thought . . . I was told that Ithicana played and manipulated the market, gouged travelers afraid to tempt the seas, and exacted heavy taxes and tolls from merchants who wished to transport and market their own goods. That you decided who had the right to buy and sell in your markets, and that you’d take away that privilege if they crossed you in any way. That you controlled nearly all the trade between two continents and eleven different kingdoms.”

“Accurate.” He didn’t bother to add that Ithicana paid in blood for that right, because she’d seen the evidence herself.

“What wasn’t accurate . . . was the reasonwhy.”

“What did they tell you?”

“Greed.” Her eyes were unblinking as she stared over the ocean. “When I was young, I believed you must live in enormous palaces filled all the greatest luxuries the world had to offer. That you sat on a throne of gold.”

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