Page 118 of Her Cruel Redemption

‘That’s because I know you better than most.’

‘I don’t know if this means I forgive him.’

‘No, maybe not. But maybe you’re giving yourself a chance to try.’

‘What will you do after this?’ I wished she would come with me. But I knew better than to ask it. Not when I didn’t even know where I was going or what fate awaited me there, what sort of life I’d be leading her to.

‘I think I want to help Princess Gwinellyn. She seems like she could use some guidance.’

I felt a wash of relief at that, at the thought I wouldn’t be leaving Gwin without a voice of wisdom I could trust. But that feeling was short-lived. Footsteps sounded, growing closer, and we stiffened, already preparing to jump to our feet. But it was just Draven and Lester returning, their forms materializing out of the darkness.

‘We can hide under the pier,’ Draven said. ‘Swim to the ship from there.’

‘This is where we part ways,’ Lester said as I rose to my feet. ‘You’re better off with fewer people down there so you don’t draw attention.’

I nodded, though the thought of splitting up now hit me with regret.

‘You’re sure you don’t want to try your luck sneaking aboard with us?’ I asked, keeping my voice low.

Lester smirked, the dim glow of a distant lantern catching the hard lines of his face. ‘I don’t much fancy a swim. Can you just do me one favour?’ He spoke with solemn intensity.

‘What?’ I asked, suspicious.

‘Can you send me a letter to let me know when you finally end up killing him? I don’t want to miss the funeral. I’d like to stand over his corpse one last time and say I told you so.’

‘Who knew you were so sentimental, Lez?’ Draven clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm, brief. A silent understanding. No goodbyes.

I wrapped my arms around Leela, pulling her tight. ‘Look after Gwinellyn,’ I said, my voice thick. ‘Look after her the way you looked after me.’

‘I will,’ she whispered, hugging me back. ‘I hope you find some peace.’

When I released her to face the docks, she was swiping at her eyes. My heart ached as I followed Draven back into the night.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Ishivered in the cold, arms wrapped around myself. The black water looked even colder. The wooden planks of the pier loomed above us, casting deep, broken shadows over the water. Somewhere above, a board creaked beneath boots as someone passed.

Draven was already knee-deep in the water, his boots sinking into the mud with every step.

‘Wait,’ I whispered, grabbing his arm as he reached for the next beam. A voice drifted down from above.

‘Nothing there. Tell Margrave he’s clear to cast off.’ The soldier's voice was sharp, edged with impatience. ‘But do another sweep of the dock.’ We held our breath. A pause. Then boots scuffed against the wood, moving away.

‘How deep is it?’ I barely mouthed the words. I hoped it was shallower than it looked. I wasn’t a strong swimmer.

He glanced at the water, at the ship waiting to carry us away. Held out a hand. ‘Just hold on. We’ll use the pilings to guide us.’

I swore quietly as I took his hand. ‘You’d better not let go.’

‘Never.’

The water pulled at me, the cold creeping up my legs with every step, the mud sucking at my shoes as it rose to my waist, my chest, my neck, and when the ground dropped away a surge of panic swamped me. I kicked my legs wildly, scrambling for the next piling as above men were shouting to one another, preparing to cast off. As we gathered at the last piling, I struggled to keep my head above water, my breath fluttering in and out of my chest in frantic gasps, holding on to Draven’s hand like I would sink into the black abyss below me if I let go. That point of contact was the one thing keeping me from flailing about in panic, the one thing anchoring me to a feeling of safety. Because whatever else he was, Iknewhe wouldn’t let me drown. He had already proven that.

The scrape of the gangplank being drawn aboard was our cue, and we were striking out towards the stern, crossing the gap between the piling and into the open. If we were going to be seen, now was the time, but I couldn’t concentrate on that. I had to just focus on kicking my feet, on gasping down breaths, and blinking through the waves assaulting my eyes. Closer… closer… then… Draven was reaching out, grasping at a rope on the hull, and we were scrambling up the slick ladder. Halfway up, my foot slipped. His hand shot out, catching my wrist before I plunged back into the black water.

Voices drifted from the deck. Sailors shouting orders, boots thudding on planks. We barely had seconds. Draven peered over the railing, then vaulted over in one smooth motion. I scrambled after him, flattening against a stack of barrels as a sailor passed mere feet away.

The cargo hatch yawned open ahead, just as Margrave had promised. We slipped inside, vanishing into the hold just as a voice barked, ‘Check those lines again!’

---