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“Shall we?” Erick held out his arm, his voice tentative.

She could tell he knew something was wrong, and didn’t want to test the waters between them just yet. Not in front of the admiral. But their awkwardness was affecting her crew. Samuel and Aryn’s gazes averted, their hands wringing. So, she took Erick’s arm, and the four of them strolled to the towering set of gilded marble doors leading to the ballroom.

The size of a capital vessel, it spanned for hundreds of yards in every direction. The ceiling was at least three floors high, and a skylight window dominated the centre, casting beams of moonlight into the marbled room.

Endless dancers graced the floor, twirling and spinning along to music played by a string orchestra at the rear. Large marble tables lined each side of the room, filled to the brim with exotic spiced meats, seafood, herbal rice, and boar stew. Lemons, oranges, and melons as large as her head were fanned on silver platters—enough to feed an entire kingdom. Crystal bowls were filled with enough grog to kill Samuel. Rum, ale, and wine, along with punch for little lads and lassies.

Golden-paned glass windows exposed the left side, and a large roaring fireplace, as big as her chambers back home, took up the right side. Her vision swirled along with the endless dancers in an array of colours.

“Erick,” a raking voice appeared beside them.

“Barron,” Erick replied, his grip tightening on Kora ever so slightly.

“Captain Cadell,” Barron bowed gracefully in his black suit. It hugged his muscles and accented the darkness of his hair and eyes. She eyed him curiously, casting her stare over the black waistcoat, cravat, and shirt. It was unusual attire.

It reminded her ofHell’s Serpent.

“Would you honour me with your first dance?” Barron smiled.

“I don’t think that’s wise. I was hoping for some time with Kora,” Erick answered before she could, and she cut him a glare.

“I’m sure you have plenty of time to spend with your . . . daughter,” Barron spoke smoothly. “I’d like to get to know your protegee. After all, she is the only femalecaptain in my fleet.”

At last, someone who could acknowledge and respect her.

Erick’s mouth thinned as she untangled from his grip, placing her hand into Barron’s icy one. He guided Kora towards the dancefloor and whispers followed, the crowd parting for them like a wave. She averted her gaze from watchful eyes surrounding them, as Barron placed a hand on her waist, the other taking her left hand. Every muscle within her tensed.

As the music swelled, he took off, and she concentrated on keeping up with his steps, stumbling in the awful footwear she’d been forced to wear. After a few beats, he slowed, a wry smile on his lips.

“Not a dancer then?”

“No,” she replied breathlessly. Had she always been this unfit? “Dancing isn’t a required skill when you’re sailing a ship.”

He laughed, the sound causing her muscles to tense so much she thought she'd snap in two. Why was she so nervous? A gentle puff of air circled her, and she tried to force herself to relax as Barron spun her across the dancefloor, their steps in time with the string notes.

“I understand you want to become admiral,” Barron murmured, his mouth too close to her ear for her liking.

“I-er, yes. I do. Not that I aim to replace you, of course,” Kora swallowed her anxiety.Gods,what was wrong with her?

A chuckle rippled from his broad chest. She felt so tiny in his arms.

“Don’t let go of that ambition. You will progress, as long as you know where to remain loyal. It will serve you well. I made a good choice in who to escort the sentinel. Pity Theron hasn’t shown his face tonight. I’ve been eager to make this next step with him.”

Kora’s brows flew so high they nearly faded into her hairline.Barronhad requested them for the escort? He must’ve known of her and Blake’s achievements via Erick, believing they’d be most appropriate for the job.

Good gods.It’d ended in a massacre. They had been theworstdecision. It made sense to an extent. Her and Blake had achieved their careers through a deadly contest designed to create killing machines. And that’s exactly what the empire received.

He leaned closer. “Besides, I have my heart set on a far greater goal now.”

Before she could enquire, he spun her again, and pulled her back close enough she could hear his steady, slow heartbeat. His fingers splayed on the small of her back, and his thunderous gaze dipped down to her lips, tracing the sharpness of her jaw. The music swelled, the notes cresting and rising like a wave.

“Unfortunately, I’ve decided to focus my efforts on my position as viceroy for the Citadel,” Barron rumbled into her ear. The proximity caused every hair to prickle across her skin, and her shimmering scar toscream. “Which means . . . you have a chance to step up.”

Her eyes widened as reality slammed in.Almighty Thanos.She was dancing with aviceroy—with a leader of their lands. Her grip slackened as she craned her head, trying to create space between their bodies. She glimpsed Erick standing at the edge of the ballroom, his brown eyes transfixed on every single movement they made. His mouth was so thin, his lips had practically disappeared.

As they twirled again, she saw Blake standing on the opposite side by the windows, his face glowering with rage as he, too, watched them waltz across the sleek marble floor. Another twirl, and Bree came into focus, her face poised in restrained shock as she lingered at the entrance to the ballroom with the Hydrafort family. Kora glanced away, shame oozing from every pore.

“I-I didn’t know,” she stammered.