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CHAPTER ELEVEN

TANWEN

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My supper of onion soup and fresh bread had tasted good at the time, but now it settled in my stomach like a stone. What time was it? Still hours before sunrise, judging by the black square that served as my window to the outside world. But I felt I’d been lying awake for days, unable to sleep.

Brac’s snores weren’t helping matters. I could hear the lad through the inn’s thick walls. Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure all Physgot could hear him. He would make the town crumble if he wasn’t careful.

I sighed and swung my legs out of bed. The bare floor chilled the soles of my feet, summer though it was. Must truly be the middle of the night.

I pulled the strings around the top of my nightdress a bit tighter, then grabbed the shawl Karlith had knitted for me during her long hours beside Gryfelle’s bed. Karlith had knitted half the wool in Tir into sweaters and scarves in the past moon.

My feet slipped into my soft leather shoes, and I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders. Didn’t bother grabbing a candle. We were right in the middle of the village, and the street was dotted with oil lamps. I’d be able to see enough to make it to the docks.

The shops and storefronts felt familiar as I crept along, even though I’d seen them for the first time earlier that day. I supposed every peninsular village had some commonalities. The sign I tiptoed beneath read “Patty’s Pub,” but it might as well have said, “Blodwyn’s Tavern.”

Wondered if I would ever get back to Pembrone to see Blodwyn. Would I ever taste her grazer stew again? And if I did, would I remember it?

I shoved the thought aside. No use dwelling on that. Right now, I just needed to soothe my anxious heart so I could get some sleep.

The rhythmic song of the waves reached my ears, and I knew I was close. Sounded so like the waves lapping at the cliff below my cottage in Pembrone. I’d fallen asleep to that sound most nights of my life. Maybe it was what I needed now, on the eve of saying good-bye to my father. Again.

It hadn’t really struck me until I reached the docks, but I was angry with him for leaving me after we had just found each other again. Angry and terrified.

It hadn’t been easy to adjust to our new life together, but . . . what if he didn’t return from this voyage? The sea was no man’s friend. It seemed sailors entered into a tacit agreement with her that might be revoked at a moment’s notice. Pembrone had boasted a proper dock once and nearly as much shipping trade as farming. But half those boats had been lost to storms, while half the merchandise to ship had been swallowed by famine. Pembronis respected the sea enough to fear her.

And Father was gallivanting off on a mission for the queen before we’d even had a chance to get to know each other properly.

Though I had been rather quick to do the same. Not a moon ago, it had been me planning for this adventure and he the one remaining in Urian. I closed my eyes against my own hypocrisy.

I plunked down onto the planks of one of the smaller jetties. Didn’t really want to go sit on the pier next to the Cethorelle. It would be like sitting next to a pie you weren’t allowed to eat. No, this jetty would do just fine, thanks.

I stared out at the water. Should I tell Father I couldn’t bear it if he left? Should I tell him I needed him to stay? Ask him to put me before the queen?

No. I couldn’t do that to him. I didn’t think he’d know what to do if I shoved him between that boulder and anvil.

There was no clear answer, except to let him go. Pray he made it back and I could learn how to be a daughter.

I wrapped my shawl tighter.

“Are you cold, Tannie?”

I barely stopped myself from screaming. But it was only a moment before I recognized his voice and the way my name sounded on his lips.

“Mor.” My heart felt lodged somewhere around my throat. “What in the name of mountainbeast milk are you trying to do? Make me keel over into the sea?”

By the sound of it, Mor might have chuckled. I couldn’t be sure, so dark as it was out here on this little fishing jetty. He settled in beside me. Not too close. “Sorry. I thought you heard me.”

“No. I was thinking.”

“About?”

I paused, and he cut in before I could respond. “No, don’t answer. I . . . haven’t earned that.”

“What do you mean?”

He turned toward the water. “I’ve been pushing you away, haven’t I? Making sure there’s nothing shared between us. So why should you talk to me now, even if we’re just speaking as friends?”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t.” We let the silence settle, then I asked, “But do you think I could talk with you? Just as a friend?”

Mor waited a moment—too long for my liking. “Five minutes. I can be your friend for five minutes.”

“I hate you a little bit right now, you know.”

“Hey, is that any way to talk to a friend?” Even in the nonexistent light, I could see his wry smile.

I resisted the urge to laugh. “I don’t want my father to go.”

“Because you just got him back.” He answered so quickly, clearly this had occurred to him long before it had to me.

“Aye.”

“The general is unlike anyone I’ve ever known. If anyone will survive this voyage, he will.”

He had a point. Father had lived in the walls of the palace for thirteen years, making friends with rope-tails and writing journal entries in the dark. What was a little trek around the world compared to that? “Aye, I suppose. But . . .”

“If something happened, you’d regret the way you left things between the two of you.”

“Been prancing around in my mind again, Captain?”

“I try to avoid prancing when I can. Plus, we only have five minutes. No time to waste cutting to the point.”

“Indeed.”

He looked down. “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you in Urian. That’s not really how I wanted to leave things when I’m not sure I’ll return.”

My breath caught. “You can’t tell me my father will make it back safe in one piece and then tell me you might not!”

“I’m not your father. Have you seen the way he handles blades and bows? He’s like a walking weapon.”

Tears rose. “I hate this. I hate that you’re both leaving me, just when I—” I broke off before I confessed my sickness. That was the last thing I wanted to say in this moment.

Mor didn’t press for me to finish. “You’ll be all right, Tannie. You’ll have Brac.”

“Stop.”

“I’m not trying to yell at you again. Or make you feel guilty. I mean it honestly. Brac has been like a brother to you. You’ll have him by your side while we’re gone, and all will be well. You’re not alone, even though things have . . . changed between you.”

“Changed?” My voice rose. “That’s an understatement, don’t you think? The lad thinks I’m going to be his wife!”

“And now you’ll have plenty of uninterrupted time to tell him you don’t plan to marry him. Or you’ll have plenty of time to decide if you do want to marry him.”

“Mor, it’s not even a—”

But Mor cut me off by rising to his feet. “Five minutes are up. Good night, Tannie.”

And before I could say another word, he vanished into the pre-dawn blackness.