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I blinked but couldn’t face him. Instead, I started to shudder. Suddenly, Adrian’s arms were around me, holding me up instead of the bookshelves.
“It took you longer to go into shock this time,” he said, a hint of amusement at the edge of his voice. “I suppose that means you’re stronger?”
His warmth and his cologne were oddly comforting, and I leaned into it.
Just for a minute… Just until I can get my bearings…
“I’m sorry,” Adrian said over the top of my head. “I’m not good at these sorts of things.”
Finding the strength to speak, I opened my mouth. “You’re not doing poorly at the moment,” I whispered.
He gave a light laugh. “That might be the only time I hear you say that.”
I leaned back to look at him, trying to search his face for an answer to a question I hadn’t formed yet. He only stared back, a softness in the corners of his hollow and heavy eyes.
“Are you all right?” I was the only thing I could ask.
His eyes widened. “Why are you asking me that?”
“You lost some of your men yesterday. Aren’t you in pain?”
He paused, staring at me. With a swallow, he found his words again. “My men knew the stakes,” he said. “We will move forward, holding them in highest honor.”
There was not a single emotion in his voice as he said it, but his eyes showed his guilt and regret as clear as sunlight. I patted his arms in comfort, wishing I knew what to say. He slipped out of my embrace, still holding me firmly by the elbows to keep me steady.
“You really are too innocent,” he muttered, not looking at me. He sighed, pulling me back toward the chair to help me to sit down. Without a word he stepped away and poured a drink, coming back with the glass and handing it to me. I took a sip, realizing it was straight rum this time. No water.
“Are you trying to get a lady drunk?” I teased, the alcohol returning my humor to me.
He shrugged with a weak smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
He took two steps before I spoke.
“Wait,” I said.
Adrian turned to face me. I looked him in the eyes.
“Let me speak with him,” I said.
He tsked and looked up at the ceiling in disbelief. He shook his head sharply.
“Why the hell would I allow some secret rendezvous?” he asked.
“It’s not a rendezvous,” I replied, half tempted to tell him the truth. I didn’t know what would be worse: Adrian thinking I was going to marry that gargoyle, or Adrian finding out that I was going to marry the gargoyle’s father.
“I want to ask about my father,” I continued. “I need to know he’s well.”
Adrian seemed to think it over for a moment, staring at the wall in front of him.
“You can escort me if you’re that paranoid about it,” I added, getting frustrated. “Please, Adrian…”
He sighed, a look of defeat washing over his face as he rubbed the heel of his palm into his forehead. He stepped toward the door, half growling over his shoulder.
“Start walking, princess.”
I followed him down to the brig. The stench of sweat and metal was strong, along with a few sour fragrances I didn’t want to ask about.
“Hello, and welcome aboard theQuetzalcoatl!” Adrian said in a condescending tone, waving to all the prisoners. “Thank you for choosing to sail with us. Should you need any amenities or facilities, please feel free to daydream of the happy little life you had before you made the mistake of coming aboard my ship.”
