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I hate that she still knows my body so well. I hate how good this feels. But most of all, I hate how much it’s going to hurt when it’s over. There’s a reason I’ve never indulged in goodbye sex before. It’s messy, and no matter how decadent things are in the moment, with heightened emotions, the crash landing hurts all the more when it’s through.
I don’t know how I’ll recover from this, but that’s a worry for a future Juliette. Right now, all I’m capable of is clinging to Maura as she plays my body to a tune of her own making.
6
JULIETTE
I wake up alone.
It’s nothing more than I expected, but with my body still aching from good sex and Maura’s sea scent lingering on my skin, I’m having a hard time remembering that. I stare at the wooden ceiling overhead, the bed swinging gently as the ship cuts through the waves.
No matter what Maura believes, I’m not naive. I know her life is dangerous and that ten years can change a person until they’re a complete stranger. I’m not the same sweet girl she knew back then, but I don’t think she’s noticed. No reason for that to feel like a direct attack, but it does.
I knew going in that it would be a long shot to convince her that we could have something. Maybe I didn’t admit it to myself until right now, but the fear lingered in the back of my mind despite the hope I stubbornly clung to.
No longer.
It’s time for plan B.
I’m not going back to the castle. When my father first began entertaining an alliance with the monarch of Edrines, I took the liberty of looking into them myself. They’re sixty and have twelve children my age and older. Even if they’re not a monster—and, by all accounts, they seem fair enough—their children would not take kindly to another marriage bringing the potential for more rivals to the throne. The politics in Edrines make my father’s court look like a playground. I’d be killed within six months.
I happen to like living, and I’ve already been passed over for my own throne. The only way to ensure I can make my own choices is to get as far from Skoiya as possible. Maura has managed to avoid my father’s grasp for years, so I thought she’d be a good option, but if she’s determined to see the back of me… It doesn’t matter. I had a plan to reach Atlantis, and there’s no reason to change it just because Maura doesn’t want me.
It takes only a few minutes to get dressed. My gown is stiff and itchy, but the second gown I brought is no better. It’s fine. There will be plenty of options where I’m headed. I just need to get there.
The piece of eight is exactly where I hid it, sewn into the bodice of my lilac gown. I couldn’t risk its loss if I were separated from my bag for some reason. There’s a jewel-encrusted dagger on Maura’s desk with a wickedly sharp point that makes quick work of my sloppy stitches.
The piece of eight doesn’t look like much. If I didn’t know the magic attached to it, I might have written it off as some archaic coin that’s all but worthless. I suppose that’s part of its mystique. It’s not a coin at all.
It’s a key.
It warms against my palm, and I take a long, slow breath. If I do this, there’s no going back. I’ll be truly on my own in a way I’ve never experienced. No father to threaten my enemies with. No Maura to swoop in and save me.
Where I’m going, she won’t be able to reach me. No one will.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and take a fortifying breath. Every other time I’ve said goodbye to Maura, it’s been with the promise of seeing her again in the future. That won’t be the case this time. It’s goodbye for good. I tighten my hold on the piece of eight until its edges dig into my palm.
No reason to wait. The longer I stand here, the easier it will be to talk myself out of taking this step. I won’t pretend I’m not scared, but I haven’t let fear stop me up to this point, and I’m not going to let it stop me now.
The first fingers of dawn stretch across the sky as I step out of the cabin and onto the deck. The fear I am most firmly not feeling tries to take hold, but I catch sight of the coastline in the distance. If I don’t move now, I won’t have another chance.
There are two people standing on either side of the mast, moving in slow motions that draw the wind to them and direct it into the sail. I watch for a few moments, marveling at their control. It must be a challenging balance to siphon exactly as much as they need. Not too much, which might rip the mast right off, and not too little, which would exhaust the elemental user unnecessarily. Maura really has gathered the best around her.
