of your favorite meals.”
Arsinoe considers the basket, as well as the poorly hidden glances from Mr. Bukovy as he haggles prices with two market merchants. What are they whispering about her these days? The scarred queen. Attacked by her sister in the woods and nearly done in by a bear. Even those who are loyal will have their doubts now. Even Luke.
“Fried chicken?” she asks, and steps into the boat.
Billy casts off. It is not long before they are past the seals, sailing north along the west side of the island.
“If we go farther, we might see frothbacks,” Arsinoe says. “Whales. We should have brought Jules. She could make them pull the boat, and we could tie down the sails.”
Billy laughs. “You sound almost bitter, you know,” he says.
Not almost. She does. So many times she has wished for just a fraction of Jules’s gift. She reaches up and touches the bandaged gashes on her cheek. They will not even be healed to scars at Beltane. They will be red and scabbed and ugly.
“When do you leave for the Disembarking?” Arsinoe asks.
“Soon,” Billy says. “Longmorrow Bay is not far. My father says we won’t stop at night, and if the wind holds, we will even be early. Besides, we only have to make it as far as Sand Harbor. Then it’s a slow processional into the bay. I remember that much from Joseph.”
“I suppose he has told you everything,” Arsinoe says.
“I should have paid better attention,” Billy says. “But none of it was real to me until I passed through the mist and watched Fennbirn grow larger.”
Arsinoe looks back at the island. It looks different from the sea. Safer. As if it does not breathe and demand blood.
“I’m disappointed that the suitors miss the Hunt,” he says. “That’s the only part of the festival that sounds like real fun.”
“Don’t be too sad. When you are king-consort, you will lead the Hunt every year. And even if you don’t become king-consort, the suitors participate in the Hunt of the Stags next year, before the wedding.”
“Have you ever been to where we’re going? To Innisfuil?”
“No,” says Arsinoe. “Though it’s very near to the Black Cottage, where I was born.”
“And where Jules’s aunt Caragh is now,” Billy recalls. “That will be hard. For her to be so close. Will Jules and Madrigal try to see her, do you think?”
“Jules may have a temper, but she will not break the council’s decree. No matter how unfair. And as for Madrigal, she and Caragh never really cared for each other.”
“Do no sisters care for each other on this island?” he asks, and Arsinoe snorts.
“Speaking of sisters, shouldn’t you be courting mine? Why are you not in Rolanth, with Mirabella?”
“I didn’t want to go, after you were hurt. I will see her at the festival, like everyone else.”
His words give Arsinoe a warm feeling in her belly. He is good, this mainlander. And though he was not lying when he said she would make for a poor wife, he will make a very good king-consort to one of her sisters. She does not dare to think he would make a good king-consort for her. Such hopes are dangerous.
Billy eases the sails as he turns the daysailer away from the island, bearing off into open water.
“We shouldn’t go out too far,” Arsinoe says. “Or it will be dark by the time we return.”
“We aren’t going back to Wolf Spring.”
“What?” she asks. “Then where are we going?”
“I’m doing what any civilized person ought to do. I’m taking you off this island. Straight through the Sound, and home. You can disappear if you want. Or you can stay with me. I’ll give you anything you need. But you cannot stay here.”
“Stay with you?”
“Not with me, exactly. I will have to come back for the festival. If I don’t, my father will have my scalp. But if I am not made king, I will return and find you. And my mother and sisters will all help in the meantime.”
Arsinoe sits quietly. She did not expect this. He is trying to save her, to take her away from the danger by force. It is such a mainlander thing to do. And a brave thing to do for a friend.
“I can’t let you. You’ll be punished if I go,” she says.
“I’ll make it seem that you pushed me overboard and left me to swim,” he says. “You have tried it before; no one will doubt me.”
“Junior,” she says. She looks out at