Page 59 of Escaping Pirates
As they walked away, Tyrone leaned down again. “Well done. You’ll make a pirate yet.”
I kept my face neutral, but inside, I was screaming.
We continued to make the rounds for another hour. Tyrone kept me close, steering me away from certain captains whose eyes lingered too long and whose presence made my skin crawl. Once, he even intercepted a man mid-approach, Tyrone’s tone sharp enough to draw blood. I was constantly torn between gratitude and terror. Even if Tyrone was merely staking his claim, he still was at least hospitable to me whenever he wasn’t blackmailing me.
The silver shoes were agony on my feet, and I developed a slight limp as the night wore on.
Tyrone leaned in again. “Final stop, then we disappear. There’s a man near the dais, black coat, red trim. Baron Kest. He handles trade insurance. We want him to believe the Arkwrights are willing to underwrite Dargen’s next fleet.”
I nodded numbly, in too much pain to care.
We approached the baron, who looked more like a gluttonous banker than a pirate. “Good evening, Tyrone,” he greeted us cordially. “If you’re here about the smuggler ship that was raided…”
“No, no, I have a new proposition for you,” he said, and launched into a long string of pleasantries and compliments. I smiled, laughed at the right times, and would occasionally interject things like “Yes, my father’s quite interested in new ventures,” when Tyrone squeezed my hand.
“And what about you?” Kest asked me after Tyrone finished his lengthy explanation of his business proposition. “Doyoubelieve in these ventures?”
Tyrone's hand tightened around me.
“Only the ones worth believing in.”
Kest laughed. “Spoken like a true merchant.”
When we finally stepped away, Tyrone guided me over to where drinks and appetizers were laid out on a long table.
“You did well,” Tyrone hissed in an undertone.
I said nothing. After escorting me while I got food, Tyrone helped me into a chair with surprising gentleness. I sat, and the moment that the weight was off my feet, the newly developed blisters began pulsing hot, swelling my feet so they hurt worse than ever.
“Relax,” a thin blonde woman was telling a masked, dark-haired man who could have passed for a statue.
“Relax in this company?” The man returned, his posture rigid and straight-backed. “They’re all thieves and rebels, Dahlia. How can you be so calm?”
“Careful there. You’re engaged to a rebel, remember?” she teased him, tugging on his doublet so he was forced to lean down and kiss her. His shoulder relaxed a fraction of an inch.
“You’re different, though. You aren’t like…Peter Pan or someone like that.”
At the mention of the name, my ears perked up. As he turned, even with his mask on, I recognized him. It was Prince Korth from Haven Harbor. My heart soared. I’d forgotten about the scandal when he’d gotten engaged to a rebel from Ebora. Now, he was here. He could help.
“Tess adores him. They’re great friends.” The blonde woman smiled indulgently and sipped from her goblet.
“Werefriends,” the man corrected. “I couldn’t get her to finishing school fast enough to get her away from him.”
“You’ll need to write and tell her that he escaped, you know,” Dahlia told him. “She’d want to know.”
“I know,” the man sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “But I’d rather have him back behind bars as soon as possible.”
Desperately trying to catch his eye, I tried to focus all my energy into the intensity of my gaze, wishing I could burn a hole into the side of his head. He wouldn’t recognize me, but if I could just pass a message to him without Tyrone stopping me…
“Don’t even think about it,” Tyrone hissed quietly into my ear. “One word from you, and lover boy becomes chum.” His grip around my wrist tightened. “Say nothing. And remember, if we don’t return tonight, Flint has been told to set off the flare. That boy of yours is living on borrowed time.”
Prince Korth didn’t notice us, but his fiancée, Dahlia, did. As she spotted Tyrone, her face tightened and her lips pursed into a thin line.
Tyrone bowed low and touched his fingertips first to his earlobe, then lips, and finally to his forehead. He silently mouthed some words, but I couldn’t distinguish what he was trying to say. It obviously made sense to Dahlia, though she didn’t return the gesture.
Tyrone began to move away, trying to drag me with him, but Dahlia called out to him. “Captain, a moment.”
This was my chance. If I blurted out my predicament and had them arrest Tyrone on the spot, it could possibly save Harlan…or put him in a worse spot.
