Page 66 of Blood of the Stars

“Great-great-great-grandmother,” Lenda corrected. She stepped away and grabbed a glass of ale, sipping at it daintily before making a face at its bitterness. “She added impeccable details, so she’s either a professional storyteller, or the real story has been passed down in her family.”

“You’ve grown to like her.” Gaeren said the words like an accusation, noting Lenda’s defensiveness as she watched Orra pass the fiddle back to Thallahan.

Lenda shrugged. “I wonder if it’s possible for anyone to not like her. There’s something about her…” She turned a haughty gaze on Gaeren, slipping back into her familiar facade. “Except for maybe you. You find a way to dislike everyone and everything.”

Gaeren laughed, drawing the attention of the men around him. Even Orra glanced his way with her secretive smile, like she’d planned this whole evening for the sake of his bond. She was as bad as Enla. But she wasn’t the only one who could manipulate situations. She’d been tight-lipped earlier, but if she was so forthcoming with Lenda, maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Lenda tells me you have famous kindred.” He let the words ring out, guaranteeing the sailors would pay attention. “I’m sure everyone here would be eager for tales of Lady Redwood.”

A few of the men gasped while others gave Orra incredulous looks.

To her credit, she showed no concern about being found out. In fact, she closed her eyes and tilted her head as if calling up a memory. Gaeren leaned forward, recognizing her actions from his own efforts to tune in to memories.

Her eyes flew open, a new spark of life shining out from deep within her. “I know there’s wild debate among sailors as to whether Captain Moss saved Lady Redwood or whether Lady Redwood saved Captain Moss, but I guarantee you the pirate saved the naval officer.”

“That version says she made a fool of him too. He never would have married her if he’d been made a fool by her,” a sailor shouted.

“No?” Orra’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “How many of you have been made a fool by the woman you love?”

The men all eyed each other as if daring someone to admit such a thing.

“It may not have been as public, but I guarantee it happened. Love makes a fool out of every man eventually.” She shrugged. “And every woman.”

“My pa hammered his thumb while staring at my ma one day,” Erech admitted.

The other men chuckled, and Orra smiled. “Thank you for that perfect example. Lady Redwood made a fool of Captain Moss several times, and then she saved his life. It’s possible he returned the favor, but by then he was smitten anyway.” She stared at the moon, pausing long enough to make everyone shift uneasily. Her smile slowly faded to something forlorn and haunted. Like someone lost in a memory. Gaeren felt certain at that moment that she had loved someone deeply—loved someone and lost them.

She cleared her throat. “Forgive me. Where was I?” Her grin turned almost wicked as she leaned forward. “Oh, yes! It all started when the Fearsome Pirate Redwood plundered Captain Moss’ ship.”

As Orra continued spell-binding the men, Gaeren bent toward Lenda. “Did you notice the way she called up the memory?”

“Hmm?” Lenda responded, her attention on Orra even though she’d already heard the story.

“She must be a noetic. I would bet my life on it.”

Lenda finally turned to look at him, letting out an unladylike snort that surprised him. “Well, then one of us should be dead, because I’d be willing to bet my life that she’s a somatic. She healed me, Gaeren. I’ve never been able to function this soon on a ship. I’ve never been able to function at all. And I get the impression I’ll never have such awful seasickness again.”

Gaeren frowned. If that was true, Orra definitely had to have a second spoke like Gaeren and Enla. It was rare outside the royal family. It usually only manifested in those with higher starblood concentration, those who would have shown up as potential bondmates to keep the royal family’s bloodline as pure as possible. Could a second spoke give her the power to leave her body the way she did?

She was too old for Gaeren, and he suspected she was too young to have been matched with his father. Still, Gaeren had three uncles also in line for the throne who had been bonded at young ages. As far as he knew, none of his aunts had secondary spokes. Shouldn’t Orra’s blood have been chosen before those women’s?

“Is it possible to avoid being in the running for a royal bond?” He asked the question of Lenda, but only because she was close enough to hear. Really, he wanted to ask Enla or his parents. People who cared far more about those details than he ever had. He assumed it was an honor and privilege, that everyone would register their children’s blood in the hopes that their child would become the next king or queen. But what if not everyone wanted that responsibility?

After all, he hadn’t wanted it.

He glanced around at the men aboard the ship. None of them even wanted a king or queen, so why would they force their child to be considered for a role they hoped to usurp?

“What are you talking about?” Lenda asked.

“Never mind,” he muttered. He listened to Orra’s story half-heartedly, his thoughts swirling too much to focus. The idea that Orra might have avoided bonding or that some people might despise the throne enough to keep their children from the pool of bondmate applicants was like a punch to his gut. It didn’t matter that he’d supported the people’s desire for more rights or that they wanted more of a say in their laws and where their money went. This felt more personal, like they rejected the Elanesse family as people, not just their titles and crowns.

He could almost understand it when it came to his parents. For the most part, they were fair rulers, but Gaeren knew they weren’t perfect. They’d upheld laws that should have been done away with years ago—taxes for money they didn’t need, unnecessary authority over business structures that didn’t impact their roles. The list was endless according to Larkos, who’d been ranting about it again just that afternoon.

But Gaeren and Enla were still growing into their roles. They were moldable, and the people should see that as an opportunity. The fact that they didn’t made Gaeren spiral right back into the teaching he grew up with, the idea that the people wouldn’t know how to rule themselves, which was why they needed kings and queens in the first place.

He rubbed his temples, hating where his thoughts were going but not knowing how to stop them. What would it take to prove to the people that he wasn’t the same as the men and women before him? What could he do to let them give Enla the opportunity to make change instead of digging her own grave as the people grew more discontented?

“Do you know what Lady Redwood gave her beloved captain as a wedding gift?” Orra’s question and theatrical pause drew Gaeren’s attention. The story was coming to a close, and he’d hardly heard any of it.

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