Page 176 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

Hard eyes staring unseeing out over the wild sea.

A lifted chin and lowered shoulders with a back so straight a soldier would have been envious.

A ruthless leader seeking only power.

A mirror version of the uncle standing in the bow of the ship opposite them, his elaborately decorated cloak billowing behind him and that crown she’d once snorted at glittering atop his head.

ChapterForty-Three

King Rioner’s dark ship moved through the water as if it were it and not the waves that controlled the movement.

And with Rioner’s water power, perhaps it was.

Going against the wind, the ship turned sideways, the wood creaking softly as its sails folded and its pace slowed.

The black ship was unbothered by the rushing torrents beneath it as it sidled up to their vessel, the deck towering a few feet above their own as it came to a halt.

From the corners of her eyes, Lessia could see that the males had taken up the positions they’d decided upon this morning.

Merrick and Loche right behind her—Loche to her left and Merrick to her right.

Kerym casually leaned against the mast beside Merrick, his legs crossed but face betraying him—the smirk lining it a tad too forced to be natural.

When Lessia shot him a glare, he wiped it off completely, his features shifting into the same mask Merrick wore—boredom mixed with sharpness, the one Lessia had come to know intimately during the election.

Raine stood on Loche’s side, his face the same as his two brothers, but she didn’t miss the flask he stuffed into the breast of his tunic before his hand fell to his side.

With a final look at Merrick, unsure whether to feel glad or worried that not a single emotion danced in his eyes, Lessia turned back toward the ship.

Her uncle’s eyes appeared to have followed her survey of the males, and although he wouldn’t meet her own straight on, she felt when they landed back on her, the cold trail they left in their wake helping her keep her guise in place.

Especially when her father was dragged to Rioner’s side, a rope of water rushing around him, the steam rising from it telling her why her father kept recoiling from its walls.

Still, when Alarin’s eyes found hers, he made a rush for it, his head shaking and mouth forming one word:

Run.

Lessia shook her head imperceptibly back.

She was done running.

Fate would catch up with her whether she wanted it to or not.

And this time, she wanted it to.

Wanted to face it head-on.

Tell it exactly what she thought of it.

Clenching her jaw, she stepped forward, as they’d discussed.

“I see you’ve finally figured it out,uncle.” Lessia let her lips pull into a frosty smile as she kept her eyes on Rioner, refusing to let the fear and worry she could smell from her father fester in her mind. “Took you long enough.”

A cool laugh floated toward her over the sea. “You cannot expect me to assume my brother of all people would stoop so low as to producehalflings?”

Lessia sucked on her teeth. “I guess not. You appear to lack any type of imagination.”

Rioner stepped toward her, and her eyes landed on the many guards behind him.

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