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“No.”
Fuck, but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. “What do you mean no?”
“It’s a very simple word. Only two letters. I know you’re familiar with it.”
“I understand what ‘no’ means,” I grit out. “I’m asking you why the fuck you’re telling me no now, when I am only trying to keep you safe.”
Juliette peers down a particularly dark hallway where someone giggles in a way that makes the hair on my arms stand on end. She makes no move to approach it. “You’re not trying to keep me safe, Maura. You’re trying to dump me in the nearest port and move on with your life, your conscience unblemished.”
I snort. “You know my reputation. My conscience has plenty marring it.”
“Not when it comes to me.” She says it softly, but the words don’t waver. “Not until now. It’s different. No matter what else is true between us, don’t pretend like it’s the same.” She moves forward before I can come up with a response.
It’s just as well. I have no response. Juliette isn’t wrong. I may target the rich and corrupt; I may steal, murder, and occasionally indulge in some flat-out mayhem, but she’s always been a soft spot in my history. A moment when maybe things could have been different, a branch in the path of my life. It’s a naive thought, but that almost makes it more special as a result.
The hallway ends abruptly. One moment we’re hurrying past what feel like infinite doorways, and the next, we’re standing at the edge of a large room. The windows overlooking the sea to the north make it feel even more spacious, as if that were possible. I catch a glimpse of something red on the horizon, but there’s no time to focus on it.
The monarch is easy enough to pick out. They lounge on something that could be considered a throne, one leg casually tossed over the arm of the chair. They’re wearing black just like the rest of the court around them, billowing pants that gather at their ankles and a corset inlaid with what appear to be black jewels. I lift my gaze to their face and pause. They’re absolutely stunning. Medium-brown skin that’s almost unnaturally smooth, short curly black hair, horns that curve gracefully back over their head, and dark eyes that take us in.
I start forward, but Juliette beats me there. I’m still wondering how she moved so quickly when she drops into a low curtsy. Gone is the stubborn chaos monster, replaced by a pretty princess. It doesn’t matter that her dress has seen better days and her hair is slightly stiff from salt water. She manages to make it look intentional. It’s not magic, but it might as well be.
“Your Majesty.”
The monarch’s lips curve a little, and they flick their fingers at Juliette. “Rise. We don’t do that here.”
“I always prefer to err on the side of formality.” She beams at them. “You have a lovely island.”
They raise their eyebrows, that small smile that could mean anything still in place. “It’s been quite some time since we’ve hosted actual royalty. What brings you here, Princess?”
How could they possibly know? We’ve been on the island only an hour or so, and neither Juliette nor I really talked about her position since docking. It can’t be spies, so it must be magic. A seer?
While I eye the people gathered around the monarch, Juliette speaks. “I’ve heard of Atlantis’s reputation, and I wanted to see for myself.” She pauses, and it’s the only warning I get before she throws all my plans to see her safely home out the window. “And my realm holds nothing for me any longer. I seek another.”
The monarch’s dark gaze flicks to me. Shock has stolen my ability to shield my expression, and there’s no way they miss it. They drop their foot to the ground and lean forward. “Your friend here seems unhappy with that decision.”
“I am my own person.”
“So I see.” They give another of those brief smiles. “Enjoy all the hospitality Atlantis has to offer, Princess. When you’re ready to leave, return here, and we’ll see you somewhere safe.”
My jaw drops. “Wait, no.”
They look at me again. “Do you challenge our decree, Captain?”
Juliette sinks into another deep curtsy. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Thank you so much for your hospitality. I will enjoy it to the fullest.”
“I imagine you will.” Their tone isn’t warm, exactly, but there’s an indulgent thread there that makes me want to snarl. It takes two beats for the thorny sensation in my stomach to register. Jealousy. This monarch is looking at Juliette with hungry eyes, and I want to step between them and reach for my sword.
It’s not smart nor savvy, not an action that will do anything but put myself and my crew in danger. Even knowing that, I have to plant my feet to keep from doing it.
