had questions, but there was so much genuine feeling beneath the way he touched me. I knew enough to trust my instincts, and some instinct deep within me wanted him—the same instinct that had brought his name to my lips during the wedding.
“Thank you,” I said softly, “for what you did for me. For altering the vows.”
His ocean-colored eyes were deeply green today, touched with gold like sunshine playing over the water. “For what I tried to do, you mean? I failed you.”
“I don’t think you did, husband,” I said, my voice arch, and I was rewarded with his genuine grin.
Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a knock at the door.
“Enter,” he called.
Two sailors came in, carrying trays; a delicious aroma of food and coffee came with them, and my stomach growled. It had been a long day, I’d never exactly gotten the chance to enjoy apps-and-cake at my own wedding reception, and then I’d passed out all night and perhaps well into the morning. I was starved.
“There are some things I need to tell you,” Raile said.
“Good. There are so many answers I need. But first…is that coffee I smell?” I asked, disentangling myself from Raile and flopping onto the edge of the bed.
Raile tried to catch me, failed, groaned at the loss of contact.
“Yes, coffee—” he began, then turned to look at the entrance.
Tiron sauntered in through the door. The servants had been standing there looking around the wreckage of the room. Tiron helpfully bent and lifted a table right-side-up.
“I don’t recall inviting you,” Raile began.
The servants placed the trays on the table and headed for the door, then stopped, their way blocked by a big figure in the entryway.
Duncan. He stepped in, and the sailors hurried past him with a nervous glance, as if Duncan had already managed to terrorize half the ship. He certainly elevated being surly and intimidating to an art form.
“I didn’t invite you either,” Raile told him, throwing up his hands.
“I needed to keep an eye on this one,” Duncan said, jutting his jaw toward Tiron.
“You needed to get some sleep,” Raile chided him. “I’ve seen you all try to escape my ship before. I wasn’t worried.”
Tiron didn’t dignify either of them with his attention. He came straight to me, his eyes intent, asking, “How are you?”
“Fine,” I said stiffly. Tiron and I had so much to talk about, when we could, but it was uncomfortable to talk to him in front of Duncan and Raile.
He nodded. There was a flash of his usual boyishness sweetness when he said, “I was careless when—when you stabbed yourself. I was so self-centered, I failed you. I’m sorry.”
Raile snorted. “You could extend that apology to a few other things.”
“Raile, shut up,” I ordered, but without any rancor.
“He’s right,” Tiron admitted.
Raile and Duncan loitered in the background. Duncan snorted, and Raile was at the bar pouring something, with a smirk on his face and no respect for the early hour. But Tiron didn’t hold back, even with a hostile audience. Something about that made me admire him, no matter how pissed I was.
“I wronged you,” Tiron said, crouching in front of me at the edge of the bed. “At our…wedding. I’d like to make it up to you, but I don’t know what the days to come will bring.”
His voice was calm. He didn’t promise that he wouldn’t wrong me again.
“That doesn’t put me in a forgiving mood, Tiron,” I warned him.
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said. “One day, I’ll earn it, Alisa. I love you, and I always will.”
“Convenient thing for a husband.” Raile examined his glass full of amber liquid before he took a sip. “Also, you two broke half my liquor stash with your rampage. When do I get apologies?”
“Sorry, seaweed king.” Tiron leaned forward as if he would kiss me.
I stopped him, pressing my hand across the hard planes of his chest to hold him back. “I’m eager to see if you can, in fact, earn that, Tiron.”
He nodded and straightened, his hands going to his pockets. He looked exhausted, his skin pale but shining, like snow under moonlight; he looked like the king of winter. “Very well.”
“If he isn’t going to grovel properly, can we at least move on to breakfast?” Raile asked. He was moving around the table full of food, then he headed toward me, carrying a mug. It smelled delicious, and I took the mug from him with excitement.