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Tyrell snarled, but the enraged sound was cut short as Gale punched him in the temple.
The prince slumped to the cobbled ground, unconscious.
Mia gasped, her hands slapping over her mouth.
Grayson rushed to her. “Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you?” His knuckles brushed her cheek, his eyes raking over her face, looking for any sign of abuse.
“I’m fine,” Mia assured him. She grasped his wrist. “Are you all right?”
He nodded.
Zadir stepped up beside him. “Will there be formal introductions, Spewer?”
Grayson cleared his tight throat. “Mia, this is Syed Zadir, the captain of theSeafire. Zadir, this is Meerah Cassian.”
Mia's expression turned hesitant, as if unsure how to greet the pirate. “Captain Zadir, it’s a pleasure.”
Zadir beamed. “The pleasure is absolutely mine, my seraijah. We’ll get to know each other well on your journey home, I’m sure.” He looked to Grayson, but gestured toward Tyrell’s crumpled form. “Would you like me to kill him?”
Mia inhaled sharply. “You can’t kill him.” She looked to Grayson, fearful and pleading.
Grayson stared back at her. As long as Tyrell drew breath, he would try to take Mia back. Grayson knew that beyond a doubt. Tyrell was an enemy—Henri’s personal soldier. He would return to the king, and he would come after them again.
Mia wasn’t safe as long as Tyrell lived.
But how could he kill Tyrell when she was looking at him like that? Fates, how could he kill Tyrell when the thought alone made him sick? He could feel his knife cutting through Carter’s throat. He could see the blood rushing out. The blood on his hands.
He didn’t know if he was strong enough to kill another brother. Especially when that brother was unconscious.
Zadir glanced between them. “I’m confused. Is this truly a debate?”
“Please.” Mia looked away from Grayson, turning instead to face Zadir. “Don’t kill him.”
One of the pirate’s bushy eyebrows lifted, but he offered a sweeping bow. “As you command, my seraijah.”
Mia blinked, clearly unsettled. Grayson didn’t know if it was the situation, or Zadir’s immediate submission that had thrown her. Perhaps it had been the bow.
Swallow stepped up beside them, the old man’s frown deep. “We could take him prisoner, I suppose. The serjan would pay handsomely for such an important political prisoner.”
The pain that flashed across Mia’s face cut Grayson deeply. She knew too well how it felt to be locked up. Moisture gathered in her eyes as she looked to him. “He would never be freed, Grayson. I . . . I can’t do that to him.”
Grayson didn’t know what to say. A prison was his fate in Mortise, though Mia didn’t know that. It didn’t seem like the right moment to tell her. She’d suffered enough.Toomuch.
Footsteps pounded behind them, and everyone whirled to see a young boy darting toward them through the mist. His hissing voice carried easily on the cold breeze. “Soldiers are starting back this way!”
Zadir straightened. “Time to go.” He looked between Mia and Grayson. “Is the prince coming or not?”
Grayson’s teeth clenched. They were out of time, and he couldn’t hurt Mia. “Put him in the harbor master’s office.” It would keep him out of view for as long as possible.
Mia’s fingers wrapped around Grayson’s. “Thank you,” she breathed.
The pirates hurried to do as ordered. When Mia moved to follow them, he gripped her hand tightly, keeping her close. She shot him a small, somewhat weary smile. “I just want to grab our packs.”
He went with her, tensing when he spotted the open jar of salts on the table. “You had a panic?”
She shook her head, but didn’t offer more as she sealed the jar and lifted it.
Weeper grabbed their packs, and Swallow snatched up Mia’s belt and dagger, which had been thrown in the corner. The old sailor glanced at Grayson. “Yours?”
