Blood Ties

Chapter 22: Declan

The sun was shining when they docked at Astroia's port city, Moyena. Declan could have whistled to himself as he adjusted his hat and prepared for the chillier temperatures of his home country. Without mountains to block the buffeting winds and without water to temper the fierce snowstorms, his country could be significantly colder. But, it was home. He neatly packed his clothing and other necessities into two trunks, carrying them out of his suite and toward the upper deck of the ship. The planks squeaked beneath his boots, clearly having just been swabbed. Declan scanned the perimeter for anything amiss and found nothing. Nolan had yet to pack or to arrive, but Declan was not about to turn the tables and check on him.

As he watched, Nadia marched down the gangway with Rowena in tow, her hair pinned into a neat knot at her nape, exposing her throat. He kept his eyes on her as she moved, the ripples of her dress so unlike the more structured, bulky gowns that Astroian girls wore. There was something entirely sensual to the way Milonan women dressed, he thought, and perhaps that was the only reason he felt so pulled to her. Simply the novelty, the intrigue, the mystique. The movement of the fabrics that sometimes revealed and at other times concealed a woman's body was too tantalizing for him not to stare. It didn't have to be Nadia, he reasoned. It could be any other Milonan woman.

"What are you looking at?" Luke remarked, appearing suddenly and jostling him with an elbow.

Declan turned to look at him with a flat expression that read, I am your superior and you shall address me as such. Then he dropped the subject entirely. "It's certainly refreshing to be back on land and Astroian soil after so long, is it not?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Luke gulped, adjusting the parcels he carried.

The boy took Declan's subtle hint: we are in Astroia, a land of which I am the prince. You would do well not to mock me or treat me like we are drinking companions. Good. He did not need anyone else pretending to be his friend.

Lugging his trunks off the ship, he caught sight of a confrontation. Nolan, Nadia, and... a blonde. One he didn't recognize. Whoever she was, she and Nadia did not seem to be getting along very well. He walked closer and set down his trunks, sitting on one and putting his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers under his jaw.

"You... I thought you were dead, Mari! I mourned you and grieved you and cried over you. And this entire time you've been, what, living as a prince's cousin's concubine?" Nadia said, her voice shaking. The fire in her words was absent from her tone and posture, both of which trembled, unsteady. "As for you, Nolan, here I thought you were so honourable. I thought you had a woman back in Astroia whom you wanted to marry. Yet you pull this stunt... do you suppose she will want to marry you now?"

He smirked as she pointed her finger at his cousin. Finally, Nolan was being smeared as the not-so golden boy. Yet his smugness and petty victory were short-lived and ill-contrived as he watched the heated conversation play out before him. Part of him wanted to run to Nadia and wrap her in his arms, to hold her firm. Part of him hated to see her upset.

"I am no concubine," Mari shot back. "We are betrothed. And you don't seem to have done too badly yourself, being a prince's pet."

The look on Nadia's face was one of pure betrayal. Declan understood it all too well and wished he didn't. The startled realization that the fluid dripping off of one's skin was blood... the gradual sensation of the knife in one's back... the slow pivot to see one's attacker was the closest person to you... it never became any easier, no matte rthe amount of times that he had experienced it. No matter how many times you came to expect it, no matter how many layers of armour one wore... at the end of the day, every defence could be penetrated, every shield could be torn to pieces, and every wall that one built could come crumbling down.