Chapter 7

It was not worth it.

We spent the night in the brig. The cells are enclosed on all sides with mangi stones mined from the ocean floor, the door a single wooden plank with iron bars in the window so the guards can check on their captive. There are four cells spaced along the perimeter of the grove located at the bottom of each watchtower, damp from the sea water that slaps against the stone walls. It's cold and loud and wet.

The captain took the time to escort us to our respective cells himself, first Kai, then myself. His frown was nothing short of telling as he shut me in. He's furious at Kai's defiance, but it burns extra hot because it's with me.

There's always that one couple who gets caught breaching the no-contact rules of engagement, but they usually get kitchen duty or mucking stalls. They also don't usually do it in front of the captain's face either, father or not.

The true punishment comes in the form of the extra weight of all of Alaha's eyes on me. The whispers and stares follow me everywhere. The taunts have grown quiet during training, but they've been replaced with cold avoidance and harsh glares. Gods forbid the adored and precious son of the captain chooses me as his match .

Messer slaps his breakfast down in front of mine as he takes his seat. "If you needed to know the secret hideout I use for moonlight trysts, you should have just asked."

Aurora rolls her eyes. "Everyone knows about your spot behind the tanner's shop."

The only reason Messer's never been caught is because everyone avoids the hide shop like the plague, including the night guards. The stench of urine seems to cling to anyone who draws near and is next to impossible to wash out.

"Beats spending the night in the brig." Messer shoves a pile of eggs into his mouth and grins around the bite. "Besides, I haven't had any girls complain."

"It brings into question the type of girls you're into," Kai says, sliding into the seat next to me. "Good morning."

I smile at his unkempt appearance. "Is it?"

"It's my last morning mucking stalls, so I'd say yes."

An added punishment Wren issued to his son. He knew the real reason Kai made such a public announcement of his intention to marry me: it makes it more difficult to walk back on once it's public knowledge. Wren needed to give Kai a reminder of his place—beneath his father's thumb.

Kai surveys the veranda, checking to see if the guards on breakfast duty are watching before squeezing my knee under the table. They're meant to keep a close eye on anyone attempting to swipe food or cause a disruption, but their attention lingers around Kai and me ever since our transgression, undoubtedly on Captain Wren's orders.

"How's your arm?"

I lift the underside for him to see. "Almost healed thanks to the ointment you sent to my room."

"You can thank Messer," Kai says. "He offered to pay for it."

This is news to me, but Messer shrugs it off. "I felt bad after I defeated you so easily."

I scrunch my nose at him. "How very humble of you."

Kai leans closer, eyes darting to the guards patrolling, voice low when he speaks. "Two went missing last night."

Dread fills my stomach.

"Who?" Aurora asks.

"Drago and his son," Kai answers.

Messer cusses, pushing his plate away. "That's the third vessel to disappear since the beginning of the year."

Kai nods. "My father is talking about pulling all the fishing exhibitions."

"For how long?" I ask.

His eyes reveal there's not a definitive answer.

We all pick at our food, appetites gone after Kai's news. It's not uncommon for a boat or two to go missing every year, but it's increased tenfold the last three years. We honor our fishermen. Their jobs are dangerous enough. Disappearing at this rate can only point to a predatorial problem.

Something is taking our people.

After, Messer invites us to a game of poker on the Main, which we all decline, but he says he might meet a girl later, anyway—to fill the void of his dull friends, he says. Kai tells me he'll see me later, which means he'll find me after his shift in my usual spot on my roof. Aurora doesn't tell us her plans at all.

I grab my lantern and sketchbook and climb onto my roof with my bounty. I've been trying to train myself back into my routine, finding joy in the simple things I did before the Market. I used to be satisfied with my charcoal drawings. With nothing to compare them to, I was proud of the odd sketch here and there. But after seeing the art of some of the vendors, I see everything my drawings lack, like extra color to add depth and dimension where I want it most.

Even the deepest of blacks can't convey the darkness of the soldier's irises. I've drawn and redrawn them over and over, so many times that I'm starting to think they're more of a figment of my imagination than actual memory. I flip to my previous renditions of him to compare, each unfinished and as disappointing as the first.

A sound vibrates the air, a heavy baritone that rattles the breath in my lungs. It's a sound I've never heard before but recognize in an instant.

The horn from the watchtower signaling incoming .

I cut off my lantern and shove my things into my pack, launching myself back through my window. I tuck the black blade into my waistband and shove my feet into my boots on my way out the door. People are already converging along the walkways outside their homes, eyes turned toward the north tower…the tower that faces Kenta.

I run.

It's almost dusk, and lanterns fill the open doorways and bridges along the paths. I'm on the opposite side of the grove. It's going to take me an hour to reach the other side and almost another to reach the bottom story.

Unless …

I eye the distance between my bridge and the one running perpendicular below it. It's doable. I think…

It's either that or jump, but it's as daunting of a swim. I climb over the railing and shimmy until I'm hanging by my hands. Taking one last glance at the drop, I squeeze my eyes shut and let go. The landing rattles my teeth, but I'm fine otherwise. I drop at the next crossing and the next until I hit the Main, then I run the length of it. Other guards are headed in the same direction. People keep to the sides to stay out of the way. They're following protocol to hunker down, a sense of panic in the air as people rush to their homes.

When I reach the bottom of the northern watchtower, the guards on shift are standing along the bridge and down on the dock, past the brig, where more off-duty guards are congregating. I see Kai standing with his father and Dupre, back toward the gathering soldiers as they face the open water.

I squeeze through the line of guards only to be met with a disgruntled commander. "No trainees allowed."

"I just need to speak to Commander Kai."

He points over my head. "Go home before I report you."

I ignore him and yell for Kai. His head snaps in my direction, his father following his line of sight. The captain says something to his son, giving me a nod before turning his gaze back toward the ocean.

Kai pulls me to the side. "Brynn, you can't be here."

"What's going on?"

His eyes dart to the closest guard to make sure he's out of hearing range. "There's a Kenta ship on the horizon."

"What? "

"It looks like they're sending in a dinghy. As of right now, all we can do is wait for it to get here."

"They didn't send word they were coming?"

He shakes his head. "Go back to your room and wait."

"What if I watch from the paddocks? I'll be out of the way."

Sighing, he takes inventory of the guards and how high the paddocks are. I can tell he's close to wavering, so I tack on a please for good measure.

"Stay out of sight," he relents.

I nod. "Be safe," I tell him, wishing like hell I could touch him. By the way he fists his hands when he turns away, I can tell he wishes the same.

The paddocks are clean after being scrubbed by the workers or whoever was granted the task as a punishment, and I claim a spot overlooking the dock. I spot the Kenta ship dead on the horizon, sitting where the sky meets the water, the place where the water starts to blur with the setting sun.

A small boat with one lone figure in it rows toward us, the person resembling a man with short hair and nothing more. Darkness falls before he makes it to the dock, but still we wait, all eyes trained on the small portion of ocean lit by the reflection of the lights throughout the grove. We wait and wait and wait until a single shot of light travels into the sky in the distance, exploding into white sparks above.

A signal from the Kenta ship that they come in peace.

As if on cue, the small boat slowly comes into focus, and my heart stops, comes to a complete halt because…

No.

There's no way it's him. I'm imagining things. It's dark. All men look the same in the dark .

Except this man is unmistakable in his stature and beauty. Even with just a glance at his profile, I know it's him.

Five guards await as he pulls his boat to the dock. He hands up a rope to tie off, hands raised into submission before even stepping onto the dock. The guard's voice can scarcely be heard on the wind as he orders him to his knees.

All the while, my heart is in my throat.

There's no way he'd come all the way here for a knife…would he? If I'm caught with it, I'll actually be the thief he accused me of being. I have to get rid of it. I swear I can feel it hum against my waist, as if it's reacting to its owner being so near.

And, as if hearing its call, the Kenta soldier's head snaps up, eyes landing on mine in the same breath.

Kai knows what's holding the soldier's attention, not needing to look up to verify. He stalks toward the man on his knees—the man who held my hand to the wall and has haunted my thoughts ever since—and stands before him, demanding his attention.

The soldier doesn't so much as blink. The other guards take notice, heads beginning to swivel up to see what's caught his attention. Kai leans over to intercept his line of vision. I see the soldier say something, lips moving as his eyes remain on mine.

I gasp when Kai punches him across the face.

The dark-eyed soldier's head whips to the side, and he spits on the dock before finally giving Kai his attention—and his smile.

The guards haul the soldier up, placing shackles around his feet and wrists. They direct him to the captain, who speaks to him. Whatever the soldier says back doesn't sit well with Captain Wren, his face turning stern with anger. He ushers the soldier the rest of the way to the brig.

They pass directly underneath the paddocks, and the soldier's gaze once again finds mine, a single moment of meeting before disappearing into the cell, but the lingering look stays with me the entire walk back home. He wasn't outright smiling, but something akin to one pulled at the corners of his eyes, bright as they met mine.

Like he finds this…amusing.

Finds me amusing.

I spend the night in and out of restless dreams about the soldier and the wall at the Market and wildflowers in a meadow, grass whipping in the wind like a sea of green.