Chapter 3

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We sail at dawn, our galleons heavy with the expropriated goods. Waves boil under the stern as we gain speed, feet stomp on the deck, commands get shouted out as the sails are being hoisted.

Lotinen's capital sees us off in silence, its walls and roofs bleeding with the pink of the sunrise.

"Not a bad visit," say Sagaristio behind my back. "Quite productive. Although that fifty percent tax raise was perhaps pushing them too much."

"They've offered it themselves," I say. "It'll be a lesson they'll remember."

"Right," says Messenio. He and Sagaristio are the only ones keeping me company in watching the distant shoreline slowly disappear in the morning fog. "When are you going to claim your prize?"

I glance back to find him grinning at me, a cool breeze ruffling his curly black hair.

"I have all but forgotten about him," I say honestly.

"He's in your cabin," he says. "Being watched, of course."

"Why didn't you put him in the crew quarters?" That's what we usually do with my new brides. I look at Sagaristio who normally takes care of such things, but he just rolls his eyes and nods at Messenio.

"I figured you'd like to play with your new toy," Messenio says. "We've crushed them, and you're usually horny after big fights." He grins at me unabashedly, and I can't suppress a smile. Having grown side by side with me, I guess these two have no choice but to know me well. "But if you want, I'll have him locked away."

"That's fine," I say, turning away. "I'll tend to him soon enough."

"I'm sure you will." Messenio chuckles, and then I hear their retreating footsteps.

I return my gaze to the distant shoreline. It's almost invisible by now, but I can still see some of the masts of the sunken ships sticking out of the water in the harbor, as my fleet, unscarred, journeys away from the shore.

They will remember their lesson all right. Perhaps they thought that after my father has passed away, things would change. If so, it was my duty to show them that I'm a worthy successor to my dynasty, and the punishment for disobedience would come just as swiftly as it did in my father's days. They will remember that no matter whom they call their king, they really have only one ruler, which is me.

Bawdrick will remember it better than anyone. I'm sure that on top of all the fires and deaths and the humiliations he's witnessed yesterday, the moment he'll remember most will be his son turning to him in the silent great hall and saying, "Father?"

There was so much in that word and that look—the confusion, the pleading, the disbelief that he couldn't allow himself to express out loud, all packed in one word and one pained glance.

Bawdrick returned him a look equally charged with all the fury and the helplessness he must have been feeling. He couldn't refuse me, though. If he did, I'd have killed him there and then and would have probably claimed the young prince right there in front of them, just to teach them a lesson.

There was nothing to be gained by trying to argue with me. If he gave me his son, he could still have another one. Sure, he had hopes for this one—hopes that would have to be abandoned if he agreed to my deal. Even if he could have his son back one day, nobody would ever respect or follow a prince who had served as a bed warmer to his enemy.

After a long pause, Bawdrick said, "It must be done."

Then, he turned away and left—and so did we.

Oh, how I loved to see him crushed.

###

I step away from the railings, the deck rocking slightly under my feet, and turn my back to the retreating shoreline just like Bawdrick has turned his back on his son.

Two guards stand in front of my cabin. I nod at them curtly and proceed inside. There I find another man guarding the door. He bows his head and steps into the shadows by the wall.

The prince is standing by the illuminator, facing the sea, his hands crossed on his chest. He's been taken straight from the great hall, without a chance to gather his belongings or even change, so he's still dressed in the red and black outfit I saw on him before—sans the cape that's now hanging over the back of a chair.

He doesn't turn, even though he must have heard me entering. I wonder if he can still see a part of his homeland shoreline from his vantage point. I stop and wait, and, after a while, he turns slowly and meets my eyes.

"So," I say. "You still haven't told me your name."

"You know my name," he says coolly.

"I do," I admit. "Yet I want you to introduce yourself in a proper manner."

"Proper manner?" He chuckles. "Coming from a barbarian like yourself, that's something."

I suppress a smile. This is going to be fun.

"Get out," I tell the guard, and wait until the door closes behind him.

The prince's eyes travel around the cabin as if verifying that we're alone now. He stands a little straighter.

"Let's try again." I walk over to the low table to the other side of my bed, laid out with fruits and meats and a wine jar. The food seems untouched and the jar is full. I pick it up and pour myself some wine.

"I am Harpax, the ruler of the Heladien island and the Choret sea and, by extension, all the kingdoms that surround it. And you are...?" I gesture at him with the goblet.

He swallows, his eyes following my hand. He must be thirsty, and hungry. He could have drunk and eaten while he was alone, but his pride must have prevented him from doing so.

His eyes shift to my face.

"I'm your hostage, I believe," he says. "Is that a proper enough introduction?"


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