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Chapter 13

"Deal me in?"

Everyone's heads swivel up at me in surprise, Messer most of all with a smile spreading across his face.

"You heard her," he says, slapping the deck of cards in front of Lawson. "Deal her in."

I've never accepted Messer or Kai's invitation to play cards on the Main before, but I'm desperate to avoid my shiel at whatever cost, even subjecting myself to the awkward looks between the players as I take a seat.

Lawson shuffles the cards. Ophelia, one of the commander's daughters we were in primary with, accepts the cards he slides across the smooth, wooden table. "Does she know how to play?"

Messer opens his mouth to reply, but I cut him off. " She ," I say, inspecting my cards, "knows enough to get by."

"Enough to put a wager on it?" Lawson says, licking his fingers as he lifts his own cards off the table.

"I'm not wasting my coin on a game."

Messer smiles. "That's not our kind of bet."

Ophelia rolls her eyes. "They've been going back and forth on how they're going to ruin the ceremony tomorrow."

"Ruin how?" I say, narrowing my eyes at Messer's grin.

As we sit, the committee is setting up the stage to be used for the Matching Ceremony in the evening. Blue and white streamers hang from the maypoles where a dance for fertility will take place after everyone is matched—well, the ones who are lucky enough to be chosen.

"Whatever it is you two are scheming, please don't," Willard says from the other side of the table.

"You just don't want to delay getting back to your shiel with your match," Messer says, grinning. "Who you've yet to reveal, by the way. Scared I might swoop in and steal her?"

"Yes," he says, dead serious. "You're just enough of a spiteful bitch to claim my match as your own for shits and giggles."

Messer feigns offense, a hand against his chest, falling away with a full dimpled smile. "I'm flattered you think I could steal your girl."

Ophelia, the only other girl at the table, rolls her eyes. "You have your pick and you know it. Half the girls available would die happy if you picked them."

"Sounds like you're speaking from personal experience," Messer says, turning his charm on her.

I watch as a blush overtakes Ophelia's cheeks. I've never met a girl who wasn't immediately enamored by Messer—hell, any female of any age, Grenadine included. Even the Kenta women in the Market reacted to him. If there's anyone with influence, it's Messer. I've always chalked it up to his build and dimples, but perhaps…

I've spent the last few days refusing to acknowledge the constant hum that radiates from below my breastbone. A futile endeavor since I've been made aware of its presence, but I tap into it now .

"Thank the gods Aurora isn't the jealous type," I say, eyeing him over my cards.

It's a poor attempt at flirting, but I hope I do a fair job of conveying my intent without being too obvious. His smile falters for a split second before he's able to mask it.

He matches my tone. "Should she be?"

I don't know what I'm looking for or if it's possible, but I send a net out from my magic like I did when retrieving the blade, searching for something with it, anything from Messer.

And feel nothing.

The only thing I sense is his confusion, and that's less to do with my magic and more to do with being familiar with Messer's personality.

We play late into the night. It serves as a needed distraction, and I'm surprised to discover I'm not half bad. It helps that none of them are acquainted with me enough to know when I'm bluffing or not. It's enough of an advantage that it knocks out a couple people early in the game.

The players dwindle until it's just me, Messer, and Lawson. The committee has long since dispersed after decorating for tomorrow.

Lawson throws his cards down. "You're a damn cheater, that's what you are."

Smiling, Messer slides the chips to his pile stacked before him. "How many months of kitchen duty do you think you'll get for streaking through the ceremony?"

I give Lawson a look. "More than it's worth."

"He doesn't have a choice." Messer shuffles the cards, folding them over in his hands to make them cascade into order. He lifts a brow at Lawson. "Unless you want to up the stakes."

He sighs, shaking his head before scooting his chair back. "I'm calling it a night."

"Yeah. It's probably a good idea to get a good night's rest. Might be your last for the foreseeable future."

"I suppose the brig is a better alternative than being forced to watch the matching ceremony and move into Urchin Row."

Lawson's father is a fisherman and his mother is a laundress. He's already moved ahead in class by becoming a guard, but boys outnumber the girls by two to one for the last three generations. He's ordinary in looks and social standing. A chance of a match would have come by now.

Messer and I share a pitying look.

Lawson shrugs as he stands. "Maybe I'll get lucky and score a young widower in the next couple of years so I can bed a woman before twenty-five."

Messer chokes out a laugh. "If you're still virginized by then, I'll do you a solid and suck you off myself, mate."

Lawson gives him a taunting smile. "I'll hold you to that."

We watch him walk south toward his parents' shiel on the other side of the Main. Despite his humor, there's a slouch to his shoulders as he walks past the night guards stationed out tonight. This shift is relegated to the guards without a match or children to go home to. They live a solitary life besides their brotherhood. Lawson's future, undoubtedly.

Would have been mine, too, if the day at the Market hadn't changed that.

"He's a good guy." He deserves more .

Messer nods in agreement, mouth in a firm line as he watches Lawson's retreating figure until he's out of sight. "Want to play one more round?" Messer says.

I shake my head. "I have a meeting with the dressmaker, then I'm meeting Kai." Anya has been working overtime to finish some last-minute alterations on my dress. The clock tower reads ten minutes until midnight. I need to leave now if I'm going to arrive at our scheduled time.

"Risqué. I like it."

Smiling, I push from my chair. "Thank you for letting me win."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He does a terrible job of hiding his smile. "I'll beat you next game."

We share a smile.

The rest of the shops along the Main are closed for the day, but Anya's store is lit from within when I enter. She's sewing a delicate flower design by hand on fabric draped across her table. Looking up over her spectacles, she erupts in a smile.

"I just finished," she says, laying her current work to the side to retrieve the red gown hanging behind her. "Try it on so I can get a look at you."

I take the garment from her and duck into the section cordoned off by drapery. It feels wrong to slip it on. The material is soft, but I can't help but note that it's nothing in comparison to the softness of the dresses the women wore at the Market.

Simple but rich in color was my only request to Anya. It swoops across my collarbone and stops inches from my feet, hugging my figure, but not too tightly to be considered inappropriate for a captain's wife.

Stepping out, I blush at Anya's overinflated gasp of delight. "Gorgeous girl. Absolutely gorgeous." She leads me to stand in front of the mirror, placing her specs on top of her head to see me better. "I can tack it a little here," she says, tugging on the neckline. "Just so we don't give anyone a show."

I smile at her. "That would be great. Thank you."

She turns to grab her pincushion when the bell over the door signals someone's arrival.

It's Kai. He takes a hesitant step inside. "Pardon. May I come in?"

If Anya is surprised by the future captain's arrival, she doesn't show it. "You are going to get me in trouble, boy."

He smiles as he closes the distance. "I don't think I'm the one who's going to cause all the trouble." His eyes rake over my dress, sending another wave of heat to my cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, glancing at Anya before lowering my voice to a whisper. "I thought we were meeting later."

"I'm here to pay the tab," he says, pulling coins from his pocket. He drops them in Anya's hand, adding an extra gold with a final clink. "Could you give us a minute, Anya?"

She bites the coin and winks at him. "I can give you a few." Then she disappears behind the counter.

Kai comes closer and slides his arms around my waist. He laces his fingers under my breastbone, smiling as he meets my eyes through the full-length mirror.

"I wanted to see you in your dress before the ceremony tomorrow," he says, perusing my figure. "And I can say that I am not disappointed."

Relaxing into his hold, I lean into his embrace, letting myself have this moment, just the two of us. "This is better than being in front of hundreds of people."

We're swaying gently, our heartbeats setting the rhythm. "Remember the time we fell asleep playing hide and seek?"

I smile. "In the pantry."

We were eleven. Messer was it, and he got bored of searching fifteen minutes in. It sent the entire grove into a panic, and it wasn't until the kitchen staff reported for dinner that our hiding spot was discovered.

"That was the day I told my mother I was going to marry you when it came time to pick a match." He loosens his grip, letting me spin in his arms.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. It's a kiss edged with a desperation neither of us have expressed before, all heat and untapped desire. He frames my face in his hands, deepening the connection, and I'm barely able to stop the moan from slipping from my mouth.

Pulling away, Kai's eyes are smiling as he looks at me. "I couldn't have picked a better bride."

Swallowing past the surprising knot in my throat, I bring his hands to my mouth, kissing the back of his knuckles. "I am honored that you chose me."

He tugs me in for another kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I nod. "Okay."

Then, as if he tries to stop himself but can't, he kisses me one last time. It leaves me breathless and wanting and nearly bursting at the seams with adoration for the man before me.

My eyes follow him out the door, smile falling away once I'm sure he's gone. Tears sting my eyes and I fight to keep them in check as Anya comes back out, fretting over the new wrinkles in the fabric.

The realization burns like hot coals in the back of my throat the entire trek back to my shiel, the first tear slipping past my defenses when I enter my room.

Acker's gaze is careful as he takes me in. "What's wrong?" He stands from the floor, movements slow like he's scared to spook me.

I shake my head and sit on the edge of my bed to unlace my boots.

"Jovie."

Again with the other name, not Brynn.

I can't stop the tears as they overflow and drop onto the top of my shoes. Kneeling in front of me, Acker stops my jerky movements with hands over mine. This is the second time he's touched me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and more tears escape. "What does it feel like?" I pull my hands from his, not wanting his comfort. "What does it feel like when someone uses their power on you?"

He sucks in a breath and leans back, only his knees visible as I stare at the ground. "It depends. Most powers are easy to detect because they're rooted in the physical world: water, fire, sheer brute strength. But anything relating to the psyche is more difficult. Why? What is it you think you felt?"

Placing my palm flat against the spot under my sternum, I find the courage to meet Acker's gaze. "It was screaming," I whisper.

His eyes move from where I'm holding my hand against my body to my face. "Your magic wants to protect you. It can react on instinct. "

There's more to it that I can't find a voice to explain yet, the invasion of smell and taste, like Kai became condensed into a sensation of brine and softness and love.

I wipe the wetness from my face. "I need a shower."

Concern lines Acker's face, but he stands to give me space. "I'll be on the roof. Take all the time you need."

I wait until he's gone to get on my knees and dig out the tin wastebasket I keep all my old sketchbooks in from under my bed. They're labeled by age, and I sort through them until I find the one I'm looking for. I unbind the twine holding year 14 together and flip through the pages in search of the drawing, a specific drawing of Kai. Past the pages of fish and boats and trees, all of them as dull and lifeless as the ones before. I stop when I find what I seek: my first sketch of a human. Of Kai.

He'd convinced me to stay, to sit on the limb to watch the sunset while everyone else swam back to the grove. A handful of us had spent the day climbing a broken and fractured hull of a tree to the lowest limb, leaping from its height and into the ocean, thirty feet or so below.

It was a good day. I remember being happy. No… content .

But it all changed with one touch of his hand on mine. My stomach was in knots as we watched the sun sink lower and lower over the horizon. I was seeing him in a… different light. His hair and cheeks and nose and lips were something to really look at. I tried not to stare but failed. He caught me sneaking glances and didn't bother hiding the smile tugging at his lips.

And he kissed me. Just at the corner of my mouth, as chaste as a kiss can be .

All my drawings prior to this were of nature or random objects, but never of people, too intimidated by the emotion and proportions human faces carry, but after that day, I was determined to figure it out.

My strokes were too heavy and lifeless, the brows too large and eyes too small. I run my fingers over the terrible drawing, hating my tears as they fall onto the image, smearing the charcoal.

For the first time since I was seven, I cry and cry and cry.

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