I shut my eyes and pray under my breath to any god who might listen as we approach, begging them to spare me. The ship buckles from another blow of the tides, and I brace myself for what’s coming as I see the faint shadow of the fast-approaching buoy I anchored to the sea a full season ago. It wets the air, seeping into my pores and plastering dampened curls to my neck. None of Mornute’s mountains are visible through the milky-white haze that blows in from the north. Today there’s no promise of neighboring islands in the distance. If The Duchess refuses to listen, I’ve no choice but to make her.
“Back the mainsail!” I dig my boots into the deck and grip the helm tight, refusing to let the ship bait me. She tests her new captain, knocking me against the weatherworn helm as grainy seawater slickens the wood and dampens my fingers. It snarls as it thrashes against The Duchess, who lets herself be jarred by the wrath of winter’s tides. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us./piracy.įor telling me to write this series, and for believing in me while I did.īecause there’s no one I’d rather be doing this with.
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