And now he’ll be leaving for three months on his ship’s maiden voyage.
I swallow, remembering that wise Queen Teragram wrote that there is no ocean that can separate love, for it is a feeling and not a location. If she could survive ruling a kingdom under siege for two years while her husband was off at war, then I can survive three short months without Royce.
It’s what rulers do.
That thought steels me as Royce takes a knee before my father, lowering his head. Strands of hair fall forward. My fingers itch to swipe them back, so I instead run them along the thin necklace tucked under the high collar of my dress. The necklace consists of a string of pearls with one sunrise tellin seashell as a pendant. Royce grabbed it for me from the lair of the Temptresses of Triton, siren-like women who were once Triton’s lovers but who now lure men to their deaths with their enchanted voices and a trove of treasures.
Royce could’ve grabbed any item he’d wanted from their trove, but he’d grabbed only this, saying the rays on the front reminded him of me, of the sunrise on the outside and strength on the inside.
My father is supposed to stand to say his next words, but he doesn’t. “Do you pledge your loyalty, fidelity, and life to the kingdom of Lagonia, its rightful ruler, and those under their protection?” His voice is weak, and I doubt Royce can hear them. But he answers as though he has.
“I do,” Royce’s voice rings out. It echoes through the hall in a way my father’s never will.
“Do you pledge to protect Lagonia and her allies?”
“I do.” His voice sounds deeper now. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it. And something in me reacts to it. My pulse quickens.
“Do you pledge to uphold the honor of all Lagonians as you sail the seas?”
“I do.”
“Do you pledge to uphold all Lagonian laws?”
“I do.”
“And do you pledge to serve and follow the commands of those outranking you?”
“I do.”
“For services rendered to your crown and kingdom”—my father pauses to take a breath—“I hereby promote you to full rank of captain in my armada.” He takes another shaky breath. “And I offer you my personal thanks.” I can’t tell if he pauses to let that sink in or if he’s having trouble getting the words out. “Rise.”
Royce stands and steps forward, offering my father the hat from under his arm. My father tries to stand. To save him the embarrassment of having Tilner wrench him up in front of everyone, I leap out of my seat—careful not to lose my crown—and take the hat.
Lady Lucar scoffs at the breach in decorum. Though it’s worth it because there’s a flash of something in Royce’s eyes as my fingers touch his hand. But he quickly steadies his face.
I ceremoniously place the hat on his head, and he steps back.
“Have you a loyal crew you wish sworn in at this time?” I ask.
Royce bows and steps aside, gesturing to the men lined up behind him.
They all take a step forward and kneel as Royce had done. Rhat, Royce’s first mate, is at the head of one line. I barely recognize him in his blue-and-white uniform. The last time I saw him, he was shoeless and wearing an open vest. Not to mention his hair. His head is shaved except for a long black ponytail, but he’s pulled it up into a bun for the occasion.
I can’t decide if my cousin Hettie will like him more in his uniform or not.
I spot several other sailors I recognize, like Phipps, among those kneeling. Phipps looks older than I remember. More bags under his eyes. Ever since his identical twin brother, Thipps, died saving me, I’ve worried he’ll lose some of his infectious joy. I’ll have to find time to check in with him before the ship sets sail.
“Do you pledge your loyalty, fidelity, and life to the kingdom of Lagonia, its rightful ruler, and those under their protection?”
“We do.” Their voices resound through the hall like a chorus.
“Do you also pledge to follow Captain Royce Denes as he fights for the honor and protection of Lagonia?” I ask.
“We do.”
“Then rise,” I say, “as sailors of the Royal Armada.”
Cheers erupt through the hall. The men shake each other’s hands and spread through the crowd to be greeted by family while members of the aristocracy keep to their own corners of the room and servants hurry to uncover all the platters of food on the tables lining the walls. I can already smell the delicious scent of the buttered honey rolls piled next to towers of different types of seafood packed in ice.
Royce has already been swallowed by the crowd by the time I turn to look where he’d been standing. I try not to let the disappointment show as I shift back to my father.
“Go,” he says, waving his hand, “enjoy the feast.”
I take my seat next to him and grasp his hand. “My place is here with you.”
“Tilner will take care of me. Go congratulate the captain on my behalf.” He offers me the largest smile he can, which is really no more than a slight upturn at the edges.
As if saying his name summoned him, Tilner appears at my father’s side. He stands there silently, watching the crowd, waiting until he is needed.
“Go,” my father repeats.
I bite my lip. This might be the last chance I get to talk to Royce before he sets sail. I give my father’s hand one last squeeze and head down the dais steps.
Phipps appears before me, a wide smile on his face. It’s the kind of smile that tugs so far up at the ends that I’m not sure his lips could go any wider, and it hints that he’s probably up to something. But I don’t care if he steals all the gold chandeliers; I’m glad to see him smiling again. Although I can’t help but notice the tightness around his eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks.
“Hello.” He bows awkwardly, his large ears sticking out even more as his hair sweeps forward.
“Phipps.” I offer him my hand. “How have you been?”
“Oh, good, good,” he says, pumping my hand up and down.
From behind him, a short figure peeks out.
Phipps motions behind him, and the person steps forward. “I’d like you to meet my younger brother, Lenny.”
Lenny looks to be about thirteen or fourteen and has the same lopsided grin accented by lips that are just a little too big for his face. Scraggily hair down to his shoulders does nothing to hide ears as big as his brother’s.
“I didn’t know you had another sibling,” I say.
“Well”—Phipps ducks his eyes—“my maw didn’t think he was ready to go to sea, but with . . . with . . .” He trails off, as if having trouble getting the words out.
Lenny gently nudges Phipps’s shoulder and nods encouragingly.
Phipps laughs nervously and swallows. He nods down at his brother, and after a few moments his smile returns, though it seems forced. “It was finally time for him to get his sea legs.”
Lenny bows rigidly at the waist, and I notice one of his coat arms swing forward, empty.
Phipps notices where my gaze has gone. “He was born a little differently.”
Lenny grabs Phipps’s elbow, tugging on his brother’s sleeve without taking his bright eyes from me.
“Oh, and he can’t speak.” He then holds his hands up defensively. “But don’t you think for a minute he can’t hold his own. One time, Thipps and I were backed into a corner by these guys who thought we’d cheated them at a game of Lavender Luck, and Lenny showed up out of nowhere and took all three of the guys down.”