he picked up the nickname, although she very much doubted it. More like his intense curiosity coupled with his razor-sharp cunning and disarming charm earned him that moniker.
A long stretch of silence followed as he sloshed the dark burgundy wine around in his cup. “When I was a captain, this was the only wine onboard. I swore the second my feet found the shore for good that I would never drink another drop of this swill. But here I am, sitting atop the most expensive collection of wine barrels in the entire mortal lands, and this is what I crave.”
She took another drink, fighting the spasm that clenched her throat. “It does have its . . . charm after the fifth or sixth sip.”
“The undersea room we dined in? I have ten more chambers just like it, filled with furniture and artifacts of solid gold. Elaborate rooms meant to impress Sun Lords. Even our royal bedroom is underwater. And yet, the only place I feel normal is here, on the roof with the seagulls and rats.”
Compared to his formality from earlier, his confession surprised her. Perhaps he was trying to disarm her with his sudden vulnerability, make her loosen up and make a mistake, but . . . it truly felt like he was being genuine.
“I think all of us find comfort in what we know.” She watched the tall harbor gate in the distance slowly open to let a single, white-sailed vessel through. “I’m supposed to be the daughter of Freya, but I cling to mortal emotions and desires.”
Stolas came to mind. The way he kissed her. The way her skin shivered at his slightest touch. Desire was too tame a word for what she felt around him.
A long stretch of quiet descended as they watched that solitary ship grow closer to the docks, Eros rhythmically tapping his forefinger over his cup.
When the tapping stopped, he turned to her. “What are your plans for the mortal lands?”
Haven blinked, not expecting the question. She had been so busy the last few weeks trying to survive that she hadn’t thought what her plan was two weeks from now.
A month.
She watched the trading vessel dock and begin unloading their goods, wondering what it would be like to live such a simple life. “I have no plans other than allying Solis, mortal, and Noctis against the Shadeling.”
“And afterward? Assuming there is a war against Odin and we are victorious, then what?”
“You mean, will I try to rule?”
It was his turn to blink.
“I don’t want lands. I don’t want gold or power or more magick, and I certainly don’t lust after anyone’s throne, yours included.”
“Then what do you want?”
The same question she could ask of him. “I . . . want to live in a world free of fear.”
“That’s it?” If the almost comically arched brow didn’t tell her, his voice made clear his skepticism. “And what of your Chosen, King Bellamy?”
“What about him?”
“Do you seek to reinstate him on the throne of Penryth?” His eyes were razor-sharp as he turned to her. “Mortals can overlook a lot, but a Kinslayer is universally reviled.”
“You’ve met King Bellamy. Does he seem like the kind of king who would poison his own father?” Her cup clinked over the brass roof as she set it down, hard. “I imagine you’ve also met Renk by now, who as king is undoubtedly ten times worse than he was before—and he was already awful. So, tell me. How is that working out for you? Do you see a long and fruitful union with that tantrum-throwing tyrant?”
She had no idea if they’d actually met yet or what Eros thought of Renk, but the muscles flexing in his jaw said they had met—and it hadn’t been an amicable affair.
“King Renk is . . . troublesome, but he is young and green enough that he is manageable.”
“For now.” Her hand fisted around the handle of her tumbler. Renk had hurt Bell their entire lives, but what he did in Effendier . . . that betrayal earned Renk a dagger with his name on it.
When the day came, she would help Bell twist it into the bastard’s greedy black heart.
Eros unbuttoned the top of his collar and gave a long, tired exhale. “You know, what they don’t tell you about being king is how utterly exhausting it is. I used to spend nights on the open sea with nothing but Neri and a bottle of wine and the stars.”
“Who knew being a pirate was