Page 16 of The Twisted Throne

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ahnna said, suspecting that Hazel had known many of the servants on the other vessel and that it had been some twist of luck that had her serving on this ship. No doubt the maid who’d been intended to serve Ahnna was dead.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Hazel blinked her tears away. “We are so delighted to have you come to Harendell, and I hope you’ll not judge us harshly on your accommodations, for they are not what was intended. TheVictoriais a naval vessel.”

Ahnna had spent most of her life in accommodations far more uncomfortable than these, for above all else, she was a soldier, but instinct told her that saying as much would not make Hazel feel better. So instead, she said, “I understand. Thank you.”

Hazel curtsied, then departed, leaving Ahnna alone in thestateroom. Toying with the empty sheath of the knife she’d lost, Ahnna went to the window to look out, but her view was away from the pier, so all she could see were merchant vessels waiting for Northwatch’s signal to make port. Every minute that these piers stood empty was costing Ithicana gold it could not afford, and part of her wanted to go onto the deck and start urging the Harendellians to depart even as part of her hoped that they’d never set sail. That this ship, a small taste of the changes she was about to face, would be the farthest she ever got from her home.

She struggled to contain the homesickness that rose in her chest. Ahnna had spent a large portion of her life being prepared for this moment. Endless lessons from spies who’d spent time in Edward’s court, teaching her their customs, manners, and practices. However, that had been under her mother’s reign. Once Aren had become king and made Ahnna commander of Southwatch, there’d been no time in her schedule for dancing lessons or to practice her needlework, because she’d been consumed with protecting the most dangerous location in all of Ithicana. Then the invasion had happened. Then the collision of Maridrina and Valcotta. And keeping up with Harendell’s politics and gossip had felt like such a distant concern. Much of the knowledge remained instilled in her, but the emotional preparation she’d undergone seemed to have disappeared entirely.

Or perhaps she’d only ever fooled herself that it was there at all.

A knock sounded on the door, and Hazel entered. “Your trunk, my lady,” she said. “I’ll go in search of the others. They only had the one.”

“There is only one,” Ahnna said as a sailor carried in her small trunk, setting it down and departing. “I only have…” She trailed off, about to have said that she only had a few belongings. Except that would imply that Ithicana was without means, and kingdomswithout means were seen as weak, which was the last thing Aren needed Harendell to believe. “I prefer to travel light and acquire what I need when I arrive.”

Hazel looked up from inspecting the contents of Ahnna’s small trunk, which was mostly weapons, a few items of sentimental value, and tunics and trousers she’d worn all her life. “We shall have a seamstress brought straightaway, my lady. Day dresses and evening dresses, six of each to start, though you’ll need ball gowns once we reach Verwyrd, for you are certain to be the toast of the season in the Sky Palace. An Ithicanian princess…Truly, your dance card will always be full.”

Ahnna’s stomach twisted as she considered the cost of such dresses. Aren had accounts in her name with the Harendellian banks that she could draw upon, but she was loath to spend the funds on dresses given that most of Lara’s jewelry had been sold to pay for food for Ithicanian civilians. Never mind the prospect of having to wear them while executing complicated dance steps that she hadn’t practiced in years, all under the eye of the most judgmental people in the known world.

“It will be quiet dinners during your journey,” Hazel said, holding up one of the tunics. “There are no other ladies aboard besides your own, who are family, and His Highness is soon to be family as well, which suggests less formal attire is…is…appropriate.”

Hazel’s tone suggested anything but.

Ahnna plucked the tunic out of the woman’s hands, turning her back before removing her damp undershirt and donning the dry garment. Trousers followed, her spare boots forming to her feet as she peered into the tiny mirror on the wall, inspecting the scabbed-over cut on her temple. Warm water arrived, and she allowed Hazel to wipe away the blood smeared on her face, then apply a bit of salve to the cut.

Ahnna expected a knock to sound on the door. For a servant to call through the wood that Aren was on decks. That he’d come to find her. That he wouldn’t let her go without saying goodbye.

But the only noises were of the crew making ready to leave, familiar shouts and orders, for ships were much the same no matter the nation they hailed from.

He’ll come,she told herself.He’ll come say goodbye. Or at least, come to give you orders.

Hazel departed to dispose of the dirty wash water, and Ahnna sat on the bunk.

Waiting.

A knock sounded on the door, too rough to be Hazel. Ahnna leapt to her feet, a smile growing on her face because she’d been wrong to doubt him. Flinging open the door, she said, “Figure out how you’re going to—”

She broke off because it wasn’t Aren standing in the opening.

It was Jor.

“I’m coming with you,” the old soldier said, resting his scarred hands on the doorframe. “You need someone you can trust. Someone who knows what’s what about these northern vipers. They’re all smiles to your face and knives to the back, the Harendellians. Can’t stand the fuckers. Also, your cousin is a drunk, and Bronwyn is going to be busy keeping her from falling off the side of the ship.”

Ahnna stared at him as the ship bobbed beneath them, moving away from the pier.

He isn’t coming.

The realization must have shown in her eyes, because Jor’s weathered face softened. “I know he’s left you behind a thousand times, Ahnna, but this is the first time you’ve left him. Aren’s more rattled about you leaving than he cares to admit, which meanshe’s being a right prick about it. You know how he is when he’s upset.”

Ahnna was already moving.

Why hadn’t she made the effort to say goodbye? Why hadn’t she sought him out? She cursed her stubbornness because this wasn’t how she wanted to leave things with her twin.

Out on the deck, she dodged sailors, making her way to the side of the ship.

Please be there.

Her hands closed on the railing, eyes searching the Ithicanians watching the ship move back, the distance between the vessel and Northwatch growing.

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