Chapter Fifty-One

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Antony

"Restock for the journey. The ship's surgeon has asked for more dried herbs," Callum states, handing off a letter to the cooper. The man in charge of the ship's supplies bows and leaves without a word, approaching the harbor master who will be able to find an apothecary nearby.

Gibson walks to me, staring off into the open waters as I am. "How far are we?"

"Months away. And that's depending on how difficult it is to penetrate the border."

"Without a ruler, the place has fallen into chaos. The lands would be fair game." He chuckles. "Imagine you secure your brother a continent while you're on this chase. I suspect he'd give you anything you desire."

There's nothing he can give me that I desire.

I stare off into the unknown. "The corruption in that kingdom must be rampant but pirates have no use in a place like that, save petty thievery."

"Why?"

"The war was cruel and the lands left in destruction. Once King Launius was defeated, our forces had to retreat to save our soldiers. Pirates have no use there because there's nothing left. Just rubble and poverty. His people suffered from his arrogance and corruption and we lost many on our side for it."

Gibson looks down at his leg. Due to the muscle work as well as poultices handmade by the royal physician, in the months since we've reconnected, he manages to move without a cane. His steps are not perfect, not yet, but progress has been made to the leg that suffered war wounds. "I would have still been limping around, doing slop work, if you hadn't come to find me."

I turn, squeezing his shoulder, walking on. Somewhere nearby, there must be a place for drink.

I can hardly get through the days without something to ease the edge.

Gibson and Callum follow at my heels, watching those who gawk like a hawk as I enter the tavern. The barkeep has three drinks on the slab before I ask for it, having seen the royal colors of my cape.

"On the house," he says nervously, bowing his head.

I close my eyes at the first taste against my tongue, wincing at the throbbing pain in my skull. These days, it seems I am at war with my own body. Despair will do that to someone.

It will strip you of sleep, of sanity, of even fleeting joy.

This mission is one I swore I would never carry out and yet, each morning, I wake knowing I will find her. Seize her. Make her pay for what she's taken, how greatly she's tricked someone who loved her.

It didn't have to be this way.

A fool in the corner sings folk tunes, squealing on his string instrument.

"Lads, mark your doors with this if you wish to live," a drunk man hiccups, passing around weaved rope. "They say a siren's song becomes tangled in the threads. The evil may not pass through your doors to feed on your wives and children whilst it's on two legs."

I stare at them intently, catching the drunken man's attention. "Highness, you should take one." He stumbles over towards me and Callum moves between us protectively.

"You can let him pass," I say, taking the rope, recognizing the sailor's knot. "Why do you need protection from a siren?" I probe, expecting more mindless blabber.

He leans in close conspiringly. "The Sea Siren is near these parts."

My heartbeat stills. Energy fills my chest as I step towards him, my features tensing. "What do you mean near?"

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