Chapter 4

4

T he harbor within the walls of Qwint was packed tightly. Ships of all shapes and sizes bobbed in the waves. They slowly maneuvered through them and headed for a secluded section of dock, reserved for official business, just as Lavette had said.

Eira remained still as a statue as Alyss was allowed to use some basic supplies at the docks to patch up the side of the vessel. It was by no means seaworthy, but it’d float after Eira pulled back her magic. Then, she offered her wrists to the shackles.

The second they closed around her flesh, runes flared and her channel went quiet. The normal hum of power was gone. Everything from the sea to the ambient moisture in the air was…normal. Dull.

They wasted no time in escorting her off first, leading her away from the vessel as other soldiers closed in around her. She glanced over her shoulder. Her friends moved freely, unbound. Good , that meant the soldiers had believed her. There’d be no way they’d allow the true Adela’s crew such leeway.

It also meant that, should the worst come to pass and they had to fight their way out, they could.

Her focus landed on Cullen and he held her attention. A slight, sly smile played on his lips, as if he was as amused as a part of her was with this whole charade. Something about the look filled her with confidence, a rush that went straight to her head. There wasn’t a trace of doubt in his eyes.

Feeling significantly more confident, Eira turned her focus to the city ahead, and the gathered crowds. Word must’ve spread quickly among the populace of Qwint. Men and women were packed tightly on either side of the street, heeding the orders of soldiers and staying out of the main path, but eager to get a look at the alleged pirate queen.

Eira kept her chin high, an easy smile playing on her lips. She glanced at them from the corners of her eyes. Children shrank closer to their mother’s skirts and clung to their father’s necks. Sailors stared with a mixture of horror and awe. Noblemen and women had eyes gleaming with fascination, and hate.

The crowds, the attention…it vaguely reminded her of the first time they’d emerged from the champion’s manor in Risen following the death of Ferro. Their prying eyes. Their misplaced hatred. It had bothered her so much, then. She’d tried to conceal her discomfort with anger and forced nonchalance.

This time, Eira’s footsteps were lighter. Her smile was easier. She didn’t walk in haste and her blasé attitude came naturally.

Think what you want of me . She welcomed it. Your opinions make no difference and hold no bearing .

The attention quickly shifted off her the moment Lavette came into view. Joy and relief at the sight of “Qwint’s daughter” warred with confusion at her association with the woman they perceived to be Adela. Eira glanced over her shoulder at the sound of murmuring and jubilation—the soldiers hadn’t stopped Lavette from darting over to people in the crowd, shaking hands, embracing loosely. Where Eira created worried looks and scowls, Lavette left smiles in their wake.

Qwint was a democracy , Eira reminded herself. A new concept still being tested that Eira could only wrap her head so far around. But based on how it had been explained to her, the will of the people was what mattered most. Those in power were chosen by free and open ballots cast by the average person. The same people Lavette was already winning over on their behalf.

Trusting Lavette to help them navigate the politics of the land, Eira took in the sights and smells of the city. Alleyways led to courtyard marketplaces. Windows opened overhead and people lounged on balconies, pipes hanging from lips and laundry hanging from lines. There was the perfume of incense, and the less savory notes of sewage that couldn’t be escaped even in the finest of metropolises. It was a symphony for the senses boxed in by the towering buildings.

Walls of brilliant white stone, accented by glass of every shade imaginable, cast rainbows of glittering light. Murals were painted and tiled. Even the gutters that ran along the rooftops were works of art, crafted by a meticulous hand.

Eira had the sense that she could wander these streets for years and not uncover the depths of their secrets. Qwint was a city that had been built once, and then built again right on top of its previous iteration. Like children’s blocks, the buildings rose, hiding secrets only Yargen knew.

Despite Lavette saying they would be taken to the magistrate’s office at the docks, Eira got the sense they had long bypassed that location. Her insight proved correct when they crested the top of the hill they’d been plodding up along to emerge into a vast square lined with columns. At the opposite side was the largest of the buildings, domed at the top. It reminded Eira vaguely of the senate’s halls in Solaris, but several times more grand.

They were escorted in without fanfare. The entry was as impressive as the outside. Sculptures stood in alcoves that lined the walls. A map of tiny mosaic tiles spread underneath their feet, allowing them to traverse entire oceans with a few steps to nations and continents Eira had never seen. A small part of her wondered if, someday, when Ulvarth was dead and her work was done, she’d venture to those distant shores.

Eira didn’t have much time to take in the details, as they were already progressing through another series of antechambers—smaller, but all as finely appointed—until they came to a stop before two oversized wooden doors. Heated debate was muffled by them, but only briefly as they swung open and the words came into clarity.

The innermost room of the building was centered directly under the gilded dome. Chairs were positioned along its circular walls on risers, giving everyone a view of two half-circle desks at the lowest center points, where three people stood, addressing the others.

An upper balcony circled the dome that was full of spectators. The citizenry is an active participant of the government, Lavette had said in one of her previous explanations to Eira. The government is beneath them—in service to them. Without the will of the citizens, we have no power . Certainly, from this vantage on the floor of the hall, it did look as though the citizens were above them all.

The attention of all those present in the chairs below the balcony—at least fifty people—was solely on them, the debate on the floor and murmuring of the crowd above falling to a sudden hush. The thrall of silence accented the focus of the ministers. Eira assumed they were ministers, given that they all wore the floppy green hats with wide, white bands around their brims, accented by a blue feather, that Eira had seen in the coliseum.

“I recall your orders having been to kill the pirate queen, not to bring her before us,” one of the three people in the center said. Eira didn’t recognize him. But he did wear a special green sash.

“I believe there has been a bit of confusion.” Lavette stepped around the soldiers, coming to a stop at Eira’s side.

The woman at the center practically threw the man out of the way to rush to Lavette. She swept her up in a crushing embrace. “Darling girl,” she whispered tearfully.

“Hello, Auntie,” Lavette responded with a warm embrace, but pulled away respectfully, not allowing the raw emotion to drag on.

“I thought you were lost with your father and the rest,” she choked out, hands on Lavette’s face, as though she couldn’t believe Lavette was real.

Eira was reminded of her aunt Gwen. For a blink, she was back in the soldiers’ bunks—Gwen telling her not to let the shames of her past hold her back any longer. Eira swallowed her own emotions before they could get the better of her.

“So Father is…” Lavette’s question trailed off.

Her aunt nodded, unable to form words.

“I—” Lavette cleared her throat before her emotions choked her. They were all battling valiantly for their composure and, so far, winning. “I had assumed as much, but it is good to know.”

“There was a vessel of refugees,” the woman explained. “Not many made it.”

“I will thank every rune for protecting those that did,” Lavette said softly.

A heavy tapping of the gavel of the man still impatiently waiting in the center brought all their attention back to him. “As touching as these reunions might be, it is essential that we remain focused on dealing with the allegedly not pirate queen.”

Lavette stepped away from her aunt to address the full assembly. With an open palm, she motioned to Eira. “This woman is not the infamous pirate queen. Her name is Eira Landan; she is?—”

Lavette’s speech was interrupted by a sharp shriek.

“Eira! Eira! ”

Eira’s attention was jolted to the balcony. Her heart skipped several beats. It raced as though she were back in Carsovia, fleeing the knights. Fighting their way out. In an instant, she was no larger than a girl—a small creature in a wide world. Desperate for the love and approval of two, above all others.

“That is not the pirate queen!” The words soared above the pounding of the gavel. Above the frantic beats of Eira’s heart. “That is my daughter.”