Page 48 of The Crown's Shadow


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Apparently, Armen didn’t care, for he came flying forward with little disregard for the repercussions.

Moris, however, didn’t need to rely on his gift to stop Armen’s momentum. The ship tilted, a rough wave crashing into its side, and everyone slid across the floor.

Everyone except Graeson, Dani, and Sylvia, who each held onto one of the many wooden poles scattered about the ship’s barracks.

Like Moris, Sylvia had joined them on their first voyage south a few months ago. The two of them had been a part of the group that had taken the shorter route back to Pontia. As one of Dani’s soldiers, they trusted them. Both were solid fighters and useful gift users. However, Sylvia was a little more aware of their surroundings than Moris. In addition to their keen observational skills, Sylvia was lethal when it came to fire. Sylvia’s gift, which Graeson still didn’t quite understand despite their explanation about chemicals, made them a skilled arsonist. Graeson, thankfully, didn’t need to understand Sylvia’s skill to know they had great potential.

Sylvia shook their head at the rest of the crew, who had their limbs entangled with one another.

Imbeciles,the monster caged in the back of Graeson’s mind whispered. As much as he agreed with the monster, Graeson shut the voice out.

Shaking his head at his mess of a crew, Graeson watched them disentangle themselves from each other.

Terin reached out a hand to Emmett, who had been the last member to join their group. Terin yanked him up, and Emmett’s tall, lanky body went flying. When Emmett landed less than gracefully, he burst into laughter, bending over at the waist.

Emmett had been difficult to convince to join their group at first. Emmett was not a soldier. He wasn’t even remotely a fighter.

“I’m only the doorman,” Emmett had said when Graeson had initially requested his help. But in truth, Emmett was so much more than the doorman of the Cavern of Catius. When Kalisandre had discovered what Emmett could do when they visited the cavern that fatal night and the doorman had hidden their identities from everyone else, she quickly saw the benefits of Emmett’s skill. Emmett’s ability to mask people’s identities would prove pivotal to sneaking into the wedding without attracting too much attention. However, because Esmeray believed that the people should not be forced to use their gifts a certain way, Emmett had not been trained to fight. While the belief was admirable, Graeson unfortunately believed that sacrifices would have to be made soon enough whether people wanted to or not.

Fortunately, after some groveling, Emmett’s price was simple: a single barrel of Frenzian wine.

When Graeson questioned the request, Emmett shrugged and said, “The imported shit sucks.”

Graeson would have given him more than that, but he wouldn’t argue with the man. There was no need to raise the man’s price if a single barrel was sufficient.

Now, Graeson was thankful Emmett only requested one barrel. The man was already half drunk, and they hadn’t yet traversed half of the Red Sea.

“What in the gods above are you all doing?” Graeson shouted as the rain continued to beat on the dock above them.

Dani’s gaze snapped to him, and her smile fell flat.

“We’re just messing around,” Moris said as he pushed himself off the ground.

“Messing around? Is this really the time to be doing that?” Graeson asked, the anger hot on his tongue.

Armen scratched the back of his neck. “Come on, man. We’re just—”

Graeson stormed forward, but Dani slid between them before Graeson could wrap his hand around Armen’s neck.

“Move, Dani,” Graeson growled.

“Or what, Gray?”

“Graeson,” Terin said, the one word a soft lullaby on his tongue.

“Don’t,” Graeson barked, pointing a finger at the prince. “Don’t you even dare try that on me, Terin.”

Terin rubbed the side of his face and walked toward him. “Let them be, Gray. It’s going to be a rough few weeks. Let them have their fun while they still can.”

Nose twitching, Graeson snarled and looked around the room at his makeshift crew. Most were hesitant to meet his gaze.

Good,Graeson thought.It’s best if they fear me. Fear makes people listen.

Terin grabbed Graeson by the shoulder and squeezed.

“Is that an order, Your Highness?” Graeson hissed.

Terin snorted, and the sound was so . . . Fynn. All Terin needed to do was tack on afuck off,and he would sound like him too. Terin shook his head, sadness lacing his brown eyes, and let his hand fall. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his pants.

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