Page 58 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
Kora curled a loop of hair around her finger, using it to cover a thick scar running down the length of skin. Maybe she should start wearing gloves? Salvage whatever unmarred skin she had left? Her hair was beginning to grow past her ears, and wisps hung across her forehead, which she’d attempted to shape in a flattering way.
Bree’s bright, sky-blue eyes tracked the movement. “Has Erick finally given up on making you look like a boy?”
Kora spluttered on her tea. “I don’t look like a boy!” She had the curves to prove it, even if he’d insisted she wear a chest binder during her first year sailing. She had promptly burnt it in the training garden, furious at the suppression. But he always claimed it was for her own protection.
“I can loan you some dresses if you like.” Bree raked her stare over Kora. “I’ll have them tailored, of course.” They would be trailing on the floor if Kora wore them. Bree’s tall, slender legs ensured she matched most males in height, but a flicker of daring hope bloomed. She’d like to see herself in Bree’s attire. A chance to feel beautiful, and feminine, instead of justone of the lads.
“Besides, you’ll have to wear whichever dress I choose when I get married.”
Kora’s eyes flickered up questioningly. “So, youaregetting married?”
Bree waved a jewel-adorned hand. “Maybe. Probably. My parents keep pushing the idea. They’ve received news of the king’s advancement on the remaining islands, and want me to marry into another nobility to create afortified front.”
“And their current choice?”
“That green-thumbed son of the House of Bellmoor. Cedar, I think,” Bree muttered, her fan flicking sharply in her hand. “He’s a beanstalk. A weed. I want aman. I want someone who’s strong. Powerful.”
“Careful what you wish for. Are there no other contenders?”
The noble Bellmoor family resided near the Ebonmoor Mountains. Favouring nature and the green pastures, they were the leading house in farming. Their territory expanded from the sacred mountains down to Whitestone Bay, representing the connecting bridge between Aldara and continent of Azaria. As one of the oldest houses within the noble circles, they rarely frequented any kind of public appearances, always choosing to send messages via hawk instead.
Kora could get on board with their introverted nature.
“There’s the House of Barron, but my father wants me to marry into somewhere further ashore. He has a wayward son, apparently.”
The Barrons were leaders in the naval military. The governor of the house—Admiral Barron—was the current leader of the Talmon Empire’s armadas, and whom Erick directly reported to. The members of the Barron family also lived in the Citadel, along with the Hydraforts, who were the overseers of finance and business.
“What about the Ironguards?” Kora propped her feet up on the chair beside her as she basked in the hot summer sun.
The grass was more luscious and greener in this garden on the western side of the manor, as it was particularly used for hosting guests—which was not a regular occurrence for the Cadells.
Thick green hedges, and bushes full of bountiful flowers, including hydrangeas of all colours, covered all four stoned walls, along with small, herbal patches by the arched entryway leading to the courtyard in the northern stretch.
“Please, they have no brains between their ears. I’d bare feral children who’d beat people with iron sticks,” Bree chided as she sipped her tea.
Servants lingered by the double glass doorway leading from the parlour room, watching Bree’s every movement. The thick black drapes flapped in a gentle breeze, and Kora made a small noise of amusement at Bree’s retort.
The House of Ironguard ran the mines and the outposts across all the empire’s islands. They were experts in crafting weaponry, as well as raising soldiers bred to enter the Darkoning Trials and survive it as champions. The epitome of brute strength, they sought glory in death on battlefields. They favoured the territory above Shannara, using their brutality and lethal weaponry as a force to prevent the witches from invading them, but they also stationed themselves at outposts across the lands.
“Is it too much to ask for?” Bree audibly sighed, her bosom heaving. “I want someone who makes my heart flutter. I want to be swooned. To feel that rush of heat from when he enters the room. I want to know what it feels like to be ready todiefor someone, and to know he would do the same. To have every aching,crushing, thought to be wholly consumed by him.”
Kora stared back at Bree wide-eyed. Since when had Bree become so . . .romantic? For the past few years, Bree had displayed a knack for business, assisting her father in elevating their family’s outreach—and their coffers.
Since Bree became of age, she’d channelled all her efforts into proving to her father that one day she could become governess of the household—and their fortune. Kora frequently revelled in how they were both mastering the world as females.
But now? She was dead set on a marriage. Kora inwardly cringed.
“You’ve given this some thought.” She winked at her friend. “Painful thoughts, at that.”
Bree snapped her fan shut. “Perhaps. What about you? Any men courting you yet?”
Blake Marwood. Champion. Leader. Amazing kisser.
Kora spilled hot tea down her tunic as visions of Blake kissing her in the hallways of the manor invaded her mind. She cursed, shakily placing the cup back on its saucer. Far too dainty and fragile for her to handle. She needed a stein of ale. She dismissed the hovering servants, telling them she didn’t need their help as they began peeling from their waiting stations.
A devilish smile curved Bree’s luscious lips. “I knew it! I knew all those weeks sailing weren’t just boring long days staring at the sea.”
Looking at the sea was anything but boring for Kora.
