With a raise of my brow, I feign shock at this information, hoping the shaking of my hand isn’t visible to the room as I take a dainty sip of wine. The men are listening attentively, and I glance up to see Lennox’s stare meet mine.
“What do we know of the heir?” a man at the end of the table asks, but I cannot recall his name. His dark hair is tied back in a knot at the nape of his neck, and his olive complexion compliments his dark eyes. The light from the candelabra catches on one of his front teeth, as gold as the rings he wears on each of his fingers. He’s handsome enough and hasn’t seemed unpleasant, but these men are all pirate captains – I know the violence required for that title and don’t think I would like to meet any of them alone.
“We only know she was training to become a high priestess when Blackwell defeated Adelaide. The temples were all destroyed and the priestesses…” Marie trails off. I suck in a breath as Marie continues, “Well, as many of you know, met horrible fates. No one knows if Adelaide’s niece perished or escaped; there has been no word of her for the past eight years.”
Again, Marie’s eyes drift to me and I refuse to meet her gaze, to rise to her bait.
“How did you survive, Priestess?” the black-eyed man asks, inspecting me closely.
“I stabbed a soldier through the throat with his own dagger.” My words come out as a hiss, but it cannot be helped. “It was a kinder end than he deserved.”
Familiar restlessness rushes through my limbs, urging me to flee the table if this continues; I will not be questioned and prodded by these strangers. As I move to push back from the table, I meet Lennox’s steady gaze. Mild shock registers on his face at my admission, and my gaze swings wide around the room; expressions ranging from surprise to respect fill the faces of everyone in the room.
“I’m sorry to have caused you distress, Mistress. My curiosity often gets me in trouble,” the man with the gold tooth smiles at me and inclines his head in respect. “I am Captain Mario di Micios. Of the Hellcat.”
“Mario of Cats?” I question the meaning of his surname.
“Ah… Mario the Tomcat, Mistress.” He gives a winning grin and winks at Lyra and me. “A fitting nickname.”
“Indeed,” Lennox mutters under his breath, lips thinning. I can’t help but smirk at his terse response; it’s clear to me that the Tomcat isn’t a close friend. My emotions have muted slightly at the change of topic until Marie’s gaze settles on me again.
“What do you know of the Queen’s heir, Priestess?” Marie’s head tilts with the question, casually sipping her wine as the servants clear the table for the main course. “I was told she may have resided at the temple near Athene where you hail from.”
“If she did, I knew nothing about it. I doubt her identity would have been made known to us though,” I confide.
“I see,” Marie replies as roasted meats and vegetables are presented to us.
Dinner being served seems to have shuttered her line of questioning, but I still feel her keen eyes on me, and my cheeks pink involuntarily as I cut into my meat.
Chapter 24
Despite the questioning, I can’t help but savor the food after our long journey and repetitive meals. Courses are presented, one after the next, and the rest of the meal passes with casual conversations and pleasantries. The captains discuss storms, raids, and ships, while Lyra and I speak with her grandmother about Delosia and its inhabitants.
Occasionally, Marie leans into my side, whispering commentary about the other guests as they speak to one another. The names all begin to run together, but a few stand out — Morel, Trevino, Gunnarson, and di Micios, are all seated around the table with Lennox, Jackson, and Varangr.
Although pirates hold to their own superstitions and rituals, Marie informs me that many of the captains share the old religion. This knowledge is a boon for my nerves, knowing that before Dargan Blackwell allowed the new priests to run rampant through Selennia, women were held in high regard. The Great Goddess was worshipped throughout the different islands, each culture infusing Her myth with their own flavors, but all revering Her. The way these men exhibit respectful behavior to the three women in the room does seem to be in line with the Old Ways, and tension leaves my shoulders as fear for my safety eases.
“How is it you are all able to move about so freely here?” I ask Lennox quietly across the table. “Are there not laws against piracy here as there are at other ports? Or is that why we anchored in the bay?”
From my limited knowledge, I know heavy bribes are often required to pull into port at most harbors if you sail on a vessel well known for piracy, otherwise, you risk hanging or other harsh sentencing. The more I think on it, I vaguely remember witnessing Erik hand a pouch to one of the harbormasters in Athene when I was disembarking, and now assume he was paying the man off.
“Delosia is a bit of a wild card on that front. We have an agreement with the locals, and one another, when we are on these sands,” he replies. “Everyone is on their best behavior, for the most part, to avoid upsetting the leadership.” His eyes sparkle in the candlelight as he cuts them to Marie.
“Most of the inhabitants of the island are running from the same things you are,” Marie adds smartly. “They’re willing to be friendly with the captains in exchange for the goods and commerce they bring as long as they behave and charge a fair price. Those who stay here year-round are almost all refugees of some sort, but we have sailors of all kinds who visit us frequently. The rules are a bit different than you’re probably used to.”
The conversation turns to other topics before the dessert course is served — a delightful sponge cake with light icing and fresh fruit. The taste is so sweet and delectable I can barely stifle an almost sexual moan at the taste. I catch Lennox watching me as I eat, and can’t resist licking the icing from my lips in a far more suggestive manner than is truly proper, ignoring the lust in some of the other captains’ gazes. Heat pools in my belly, and hope fills me that he will breach the shared door to our quarters tonight.
Once dessert is cleared and digestifs are consumed, I plan my exit. As I prepare to depart, a smooth hand lightly touches my arm to gain my attention, and I turn to Marie, glancing down to where she holds me.
“May I speak with you privately, my dear?” she asks, as if she is my grandmother and just wants to have a chat with a loved one. Reluctantly, I agree and follow her down a tiled hallway to a tidy study.
Dark wooden shelves line the walls, laden with books with thick leather bindings. Other artwork and sculptures are interspersed with seashells and various other trinkets from the island among the books and on the walls. I can’t imagine how she was able to acquire some of these pieces all the way across the sea, so I briefly admire the titles and paintings before refocusing on the older woman. She sits at the large gilded desk in the center of the space and indicates I should sit at one of the chairs facing it. For a moment, I feel like I am back in the House of Starlight bargaining with Celeste; she learned much from her mother-in-law.
“You were very quiet at dinner, Andromeda,” Marie again pauses at my name. I swallow and sit straighter.
“I don’t know what you mean, Mistress. I spoke as expected when I had knowledge of the topic or could contribute something interesting to the discussion. I’m not sure what Celeste or Captain Lennox may have told you, but I have never been a verbose woman. I don’t see a point in speaking without something valuable to say.”
“I see. And what do you know of this?” Marie asks as she pulls something from her desk drawer.