Page 43 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
They both chuckled at the silently stunned males, and Aryn’s eyes darted between them, wide like saucers. The Hydrafort family were the closest relations to the royal family in Azaria. They’d been one of the first to venture with Admiral Darkon during the two-hundred-year war, resulting in becoming the wealthiest and most noble of all the houses.
In the eyes of citizens, Bree Hydrafort was a princess.
Who was sat, in a brawly sailor tavern in the port town of Stormkeep Fortress, drinking ale—almost.
“As much as I adore your company, why are you here?” Kora asked.
“I received news that you hadn’t returned from Scarlet Bay. There were speculations that you’d shipwrecked in the Shaurock Sea when silence persisted.” Bree’s face was taut with the worry she’d experienced, and Kora placed her hand on her friend’s. Aryn’s stare narrowed on their clasped hands, his jaw ticking.
“I wouldn’t believe it. Captain Kora Cadell shipwrecked?” She let out a single, sharp laugh.
“Aye, no one can bestHell’s Serpent!” Samuel thumped the table.
Bree nodded. “I left the Citadel at the first mention you’d gone missing. I refused to accept that you, of all people, would be defeated by pirates. Orworse. Not with your amazing crew. I arrived a few hours ago and have been checking every tavern since.”
“That’s a long way to sail alone, Bree,” Kora reprimanded gently as she squeezed her friend’s hand.
“Yes, yes,” Bree squeezed back. “I disguised myself on the ship and sent word to Erick of my arrival by hawk. His guards are outside the tavern as we speak.”
“Please say you told your father you’re here,” Kora groaned.
She didn’t need Otto Hydrafort, the governor of the house, condemning her. Not with her goals of advancement to admiral. Erick would befurious. Weeks of shamefully visiting their old manor in the upper district, bestowing gifts to Bree’s family for ruining her debut in society, wasted. Bree had laughed it off, claiming she despised the restraints of nobility, but Kora knew, deep down, Bree thrived on it.
“Of course, I did,” she gibed. “Wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”
The two friends smiled warmly at each other, and Bree patted Kora’s arm, her bright sky-blue gaze sparkling as she relaxed, knowing her friend was safe—and alive. Silence shrouded the group, and Bree attempted another sip of her ale.
“I can order you some wine, if you prefer,” Kora offered.
“When in Aldara!” Bree raised her stein, shaking her head at Kora’s offer, and took a hearty gulp.
Amber liquid spilled from the lip of the stein, trickling down her chin and splashing onto the table. Bree shyly wiped her mouth and grinned at Samuel and Aryn, who launched into a series of questions about her family, the Citadel, and her connections to the royal family.
Kora sat back, comfortably easing into the flow of conversation, whilst keeping her gaze fixed on the entrance to The Abandoned Barnacle.
No one else entered the tavern after that.
The room tipped and swayed as Kora sagged into her bed at Cadell Manor.
Samuel, Aryn and Bree had convinced her to continue drinking at The Abandoned Barnacle, going as far as purchasing entire barrels of grog from the suspicious barmaid, named Circe Quinn.
What a funny name.
Kora’s super smart and amazing plan to question John had been foiled, as the male never returned by the time Circe shooed them out with a cloth, swatting Samuel’s wandering hands. EvenConan had disappeared—taking himself to bed so as not to be disturbed by their rowdiness.
What a moody mutt.
Kora placed a bare foot on the floor, using the cool, terracotta tiles to steady the dizzying torrents of her vision, and she blindly fumbled for the covers, hoisting them up to her chin. A chilling breeze wafted from the open window she’d dumbfoundedly climbed through to avoid the presumptuous eyes of servants, or risk awaking Erick.
What a spectacular idea. She was really, really, smart.
Dawn was in a matter of hours, and she groaned as her stomach threatened to heave up the contents of the evening. Kora reached out with her hand, seeking for a glass of water on her bedside table. Nothing but smooth, oak wood. Bile loomed in the back of her throat and she choked it down.
With one eye slitted open, she gauged the distance to her bathing chambers across the room. Nope. That was too far away. Nope, nope, nope. Not when her bed felt like a cloud, cushioning her sore limbs from falling through the window.
She giggled, but it croaked from her mouth, turning into a hacked cough.
Gods, she was thirsty.
