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Atop the ship’s three towering masts, enormous square sails billowed.
This was a warship. My mind raced. Lorian could destroy the entire ship. But who knew how many other ships would be sent in response?
I could freeze time. But I couldn’t hold it indefinitely.
“Who else has power on this ship?” I asked Lorian as he stepped up next to me.
“The crew have small amounts of various powers—most of which have been taken by Regner. As far as I’m aware, your aunt’s power is defensive.”
I nodded. “My aunt can cast a shield. But Regner took the majority of her power when the queen convinced him to spare her life. He ordered her continually drained every few months once she was spared.” Nausea swept through me at the thought of what Telean’s life had been like in that castle.
My mouth turned dry as the warship approached. If Galon and the others had been here, this would have been a different conversation. But Lorian had left them behind to get the hybrids—my people—to safety.
I knew little about ships. All I knew was the warship had clearly been designed for speed and maneuverability, with a long, narrow hull that cut through the water directly toward us. No emblems on their flags.
“What’s that? At the front of the ship?”
“A ram,” Lorian said. “For sinking enemy vessels.”
I blinked, and I was in the river once more, the cold leeching the energy from my bones, my lungs screaming for air as the water closed over my head again and again.
Lorian was watching me. Likely seeing more than I wanted him to see. As usual.
“Every time I think you’re about to stop being a scared little mouse and actually reveal the woman I believe you are, you prove me wrong. Well, sweetheart, we don’t have time for your insecurity and self-doubt.”
“We’ll find out what they want,” I said through numb lips. “And if they attack, we’ll make an example of them.”
Lorian’s gaze flickered with something that might have been approval. I ignored it, turning my gaze back to the ship in the distance.
Now we would wait. And see if whoever was on that ship attempted to kill us or wanted to talk.
* * *
Prisca watched the approaching warship. And I watched her.
Her face was pale, the dark circles stark beneath her eyes. It was clear she was deeply unhappy down to her bones. And that unhappiness made something in my gut twist in response.
Everything I’d done had been necessary. I held no regrets—except that she now looked at me as if I was dangerous to her. Not to her physical body, but to her heart. Her peace of mind.
Prisca was lonely. Oh, she had her aunt, and the two had become incredibly close. But often, her aunt was forced to nap, and Prisca would sit on the deck, staring at the sea, completely removed from everyone.
The crew were fascinated but wary of the hybrid heir, and their whispers followed her around the ship. Since she refused to speak to me other than the bare minimum necessary, she was hopelessly, achingly alone.
I knew the reality of such loneliness. Had spent most of my childhood lost in solitude. Not only was the wildcat alone, but she was now expected to walk into a role she had never asked for.
I never wanted her to feel alone like I had.
Loneliness could swallow you until you were nothing but misery and rage. And I refused to let that happen to Prisca.
At this very moment, I was responsible for that loneliness. I may have orders, butIwas the one directly responsible for the weary misery in her eyes.
She turned, likely feeling my eyes on her. “What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. About wanting to go directly to the hybrid camp. About seeing your family. Your friends.”
She blinked. “And?”
“There are two ways to reach the camp—by sea or by land.”
