Page 98 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

They also issued an invitation to Alaric and whichever son he was going to include on their peace treaty to attend a formal contract signing in Arborlay. The meeting had the added benefit of giving them a chance to question Alaric about the type of jewels they mined to discover the connection between the jewels and the war frigates. Charis couldn’t think too hard about that impending meeting without feeling something inside start to unravel, so instead she focused on Alaric’s reply. His brusque agreement arrived a few days later and included a reminder that they could only stay for two nights due to the arrival of winter in the mountains.

She could survive two nights.

And that would teach her how to survive days that would turn into weeks and months and years. But for now, she could push it to the back of her mind and focus on the last few minutes of their fourth nighttime sail that week. Once again, they’d seen nothing out of place, though they hadn’t dared go as far north as Portsmith. If anyone in the armada was watching them, they needed to believe the ship contained actual smugglers who were traveling to viable small ports.

It was all too much to think about. She needed exercise to clear her mind and help her find solutions to the problems that faced her.

Turning to Tal, she said, “We’ll be back in the harbor in the next thirty minutes. Perhaps we should practice the sixth transition without swords. I need to build that muscle memory.”

His lips lifted, and something warm unspooled in her stomach. “Are you sure? I thought you said no sparring on the open water.”

“We won’t be sparring. I’ll practice the movement while you watch. You can correct my form from over there.” She pointed to a distance several paces away. That should be safe. No fingers at her hips to distract her. No heat at her back to send traitorous thoughts through her head.

His smile widened. “So keep my hands to myself.”

“Unless you want to lose them.”

He cocked his head as if considering the benefits of taking that risk, and she laughed. “Just go stand over there and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

He took a single step, and something struck the side of the boat.

Charis tumbled forward, slamming her knee against the deck and landing hard on her chest as the ship rocked violently side to side. A man screamed as he was flung from the foremast and into the sea.

“Captain!” Tal threw himself down beside her, his hands frantically running over her head, her arms, and her legs. “Are you hurt?”

“Man overboard,” she gasped, her lungs seizing.

Tal whipped around and yelled, “Man overboard!” Turning back to her, he said, “Where are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me,” she wheezed, struggling to sit up as the boat pitched again.

“I wish I could stop,” he muttered as he wrapped an arm around her back and helped her to her feet. Pain shot through her knee when she put weight on her leg, but it was bearable, and they had bigger things to deal with.

The crew from belowdecks burst out of the stairwell, weapons drawn.

“Orayn, take the helm!” Charis shouted, her mind racing as she scanned the deck, cataloging her crew and her options. She knew enough about sailing now to at least get them headed in the right direction until Orayn could grab the helm, assess the situation, and take over. “Dec and Arden, trim that main mast and get us back to the docks fast. Sella, Kam, and Rithni, go help Joren get our sailor out of the water. The rest of you, either grab a sword or man a cannon.”

“Are we going to sink?” Kam, a whip-thin boy whose mop of red hair reminded her of Milla, trembled as the boat rocked violently again.

“No, sailor, we are not. Go get our man out of the sea.”

When the others scrambled to do her bidding, she turned to Tal. “Let’s go see what is trying to destroy this ship.”

Together, they drew their swords and fought their way across the deck as the ship pitched and tilted. When they reached the railing, Charis peered around, expecting to see one of the small war frigates from Portsmith, cannons aimed at their little frigate.

There was nothing.

“Who’s firing at us?” she yelled. “Somebody tell me you see the attacking ship!”

The boat rocked violently, and something snapped in the rigging overhead with a loud crack.

“Where is it coming from?” Tal turned full circle, staring out at the dark water. Charis joined him, but the seas around them appeared empty.

“Ship, ahoy!” a sailor called Perrin called from the crow’s nest. “Due east.”

Struggling to hang on to the railing as the ship shuddered and creaked, Charis glared east, expecting to see an enemy craft bearing down on them. Instead, she saw a string of lights far in the distance with the smudge of a boat-shaped shadow behind it. Merchant vessel, by the looks of it. And much too far away to be shooting cannons at her ship.

“That’s too far,” Tal said as if he could read her mind.

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