Chapter Fifteen

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Vivian

The Chapala people could rival one of the Vale's extravagant carnival's, if one is judging the energy of the festivities. What they lack in capital, space and riches, they gain with the surrounding ocean, cuisine and the whole of their families this close together.

I've been to many ceremonies before like the one we just experienced, but I've never partook in the excitement that comes after.

Tonight is different.

Euce has leeched herself to Antony's side since he stepped foot in the gathering hall. Even now, hours later, she guides him from tent to tent, insisting he taste the various delicacies that only a trading port of their caliber would have in their possession.

Roasted pire fruit, spiced chocolate, sweetened wine.

He indulges her—invites her warm smiles. Bastard or not, he is a prince and there has never been a royal to step on these lands in this lifetime. It's not just his social standing that makes eyes follow in his direction. They admire his muscular physique, more so now that he's without a coat, effortlessly drawing attention to his chest, the leanness of his waist and bulk of his thighs in black leather. Suntanned from the day we spent in the rainforest, that bronze exudes from his skin even under the thick cloak of night.

I've been unable to avoid him, although he's trying as hard as I am.

Being back in the village, away from the majesty of the caves and waterfalls, our coupling seems insane...ridiculous. And yet, I'm unfamiliar with the feelings coursing through my veins when I see Euce cling to his arm, laughing as any normal woman would to a prince possessing a kind demeanor.

Euce hasn't seen the world.

Euce hasn't seen the worst of men.

I have watched her grow up, taken her aboard the Orion, let her experience my ship in all it's glory, dipping and crashing through vibrant blue waves. I have loved her and her family as best as I can love anything. But I feel envy as I look at them. Disturbing envy.

Tearing my gaze off of them, I exhale, finding Leona stirring a long ladle inside a stone cauldron. The scent wafts through the hot air, mixing spices, liquor, sugar into the breeze like a recipe. There's a group waiting for her concoction enthusiastically. Her eyes catch mine and she tilts her head, beckoning me closer.

"I should go check on the ship."

"Your ship is fine. Your crew has been taking turns watching the waters since we began the ceremonies." She pats the log beside her. "Come. Sit. Allow yourself to enjoy things."

"You know, your daughter is on the search for a husband," I say, chuckling softly. I'm bruised from the night's adventures—our near-death experience. I still feel the pulsing in my veins, the adrenaline rush that hasn't subsided. "She hasn't left his side since we returned."

After serving the others, she hands me a cup of her lethally strong mixture.

"She's become nothing short of a dreamer lately, much like me when I was her age. I couldn't wait to leave this island." She smiles. "Not even a full day on the mainland and I was homesick. I longed for the ocean breeze, the smell of the cooking here. The people, most of all. I came back and never left again." She sits with a sound, laying her cane beside the fire. "Not all of us are meant to wander."

"You're content with that?"

"Yes. I have everything I need. What is it that you need to be content?"

The rum stings my throat. "You know what it is."

"You think finding Michel will bring you peace? That his death will settle the score?"

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