“I was wondering how long that would take!”

  I jumped back with a hoot of laughter as Selwyn pushed past me and flung his top half over the railing of the ship, retching into the churning sea below. The sound echoed across the water, drawing glances from nearby passengers that I pointedly ignored.

  Chucking, I took my piled-high dinner plate and sat at a nearby vacant table. The wood beneath my fingers was worn smooth from countless voyages. “Will you be wanting dinner then?”

  Selwyn turned to glare over his shoulder, the venomous stare made far less threatening by his sickly green complexion and watering eyes. Even in the fading evening light, I could see the misery etched into every line of his face.

  “You know I hate bloody sailing!” His voice rasped, raw from seasickness.

  I speared a piece of meat with my fork and raised it with a deliberate smirk. “Oh, I know. It’s hilarious.”

  As Selwyn opened his mouth to form an answer, a groan came out instead and he turned quickly back to his position hanging over the side of the boat. I watched him with a smile, happily tucking into my ample meal. The food was decent, not as good as Leonard prepared at home, but decent enough for ship fare. The salt in the air somehow improved the taste.

  As I ate, the weight of someone’s gaze settled between my shoulder blades. I continued eating calmly, muscles loose but alert, happy to ignore the reason until they made themselves known, if they did at all. Years of navigating the social hierarchies of the upper class had taught me patience.

  Selwyn wobbled back from the railing to the table, dropping down into a chair opposite me with a long, pained exhale. It was then I saw the person eyeing me move closer. One of the waiters, a young man barely out of boyhood, with a nervous energy that reminded me of a hummingbird.

  The young man hurried to the side of the table between us and looked at Selwyn with what seemed to be genuine concern.

  “Sir? Can I get you some water?”

  I stifled my laughter in my drink as Selwyn turned his glare on the boy.

  “I’m not drunk, I’m sick. Sick of this bloody boat!” The vehemence in Selwyn’s voice caused a muscle in his jaw to twitch.

  The boy moved his panicked gaze to me and back to Selwyn, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his serving cloth. “Yes, Sir, that’s what I meant. The water will help.”

  Selwyn turned his glare instead at the tabletop, as if the polished wood had personally offended him. “Water is the bloody problem.”

  I gave the boy a reassuring grin, a practiced look that usually put the servants at ease. “Water will do him nicely, thank you.”

  The boy looked at me with sudden recognition brightening his features. “You’re from House Velez, aren’t you, Sir?”

  I nodded.

  “I thought it was you. I recognise the crest on your ring. It looks like the one Miss Joy wears.”

  My fingers instinctively moved to touch the signet ring, the metal cool on my skin.

  “Well, moreso, hers is like mine.” The correction came automatically.

  The boy nodded with a grin. “Of course, Sir?”

  Selwyn’s hand suddenly flashed out and grasped the boy’s wrist, causing him to wince. I recognised the desperation in my brother’s movement, the barely concealed fear.

  “Sir?” The waiter’s voice wavered.

  Selwyn looked up at the boy, trying to get his composure before he spoke. “You say Joy? How was she?”

  The waiter looked down at his wrist pointedly, and Selwyn released it, mumbling a quiet word of apology under his breath.

  “How did she seem? She was fine.” The boy rubbed his wrist absently. “Apart from the trouble with that bloke that was hanging around.”

  I placed my fork back onto the table with a calmness that didn’t match the sudden rush of heat through my veins. My heart kicked against my ribs and I leaned forward, fixing the boy with a stare.

  “Do you know his name? Can you describe him? Was he a bit taller than you, dark hair, face you can’t help but want to punch?”

  The image of Marcelo formed in my mind, his smug smile, his eyes that never seemed to focus on anything but what he wanted. The man who had torn my household apart, who had taken Ellah when he couldn’t have Joy. The way he looked at Joy like she was a prize to be claimed. Not so different, perhaps, from how I had looked at her myself.

  “No, Sir, that doesn’t sound like him. I know who he is anyhow. He works for that new press organisation, they write up stories from people and send it all around the place. The man, he’s the one that prints it, he calls himself The Admiral.”

  I sighed and sat back in my seat, tension uncoiling from my shoulders. Not Marcelo. I stretched my neck to the sides to try to release some of the pressure building beneath my skin.

  “I know of him. He’s nothing but an annoyance.”

  A self-important muckraker who styled himself as some kind of truth-teller. The thought of Joy with him was irritating, but not terrifying.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Selwyn moved his hand and the boy flinched, in turn making me glare at my brother, who looked at the waiter with a rueful expression. “Sorry about that.”

  The boy looked at me, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Is Miss Joy in trouble, Sir? She was lovely to us all here.” He bit his bottom lip nervously as he paused, voice dropping to nearly a whisper. “We’d hate her to be getting in trouble for going off with The Admiral.”

  Selwyn quickly turned in his seat, and the sudden movement drained all natural colour from his face. Seeing this, I reached out and tugged the waiter out of Selwyn’s way as he jumped up from his chair and charged back to fling himself over the railing again. The night air carried the sound of retching back to us.

  The waiter exchanged grins with m, then remembering his place, cleared his throat. “I’ll get that water for him, Sir?”

  I turned my full attention to the boy, smiling easily, though I couldn’t make it reach my voice. “Tell me more about what you said. Joy went off with this press fellow?”

  Was she going to him for help? Or had she been manipulated somehow? Joy was clever, brutally so, but she had blind spots when it came to people who showed her kindness. It was what made her vulnerable to me at first.

  The waiter stammered and half stepped back, then thought better of fleeing as he returned my gaze with his own nervous one. “They left together at the docks. He was carrying her bag and everything.”

  I rubbed my chin, considering our options, narrowing possibilities.

  The Admiral carrying Joy’s bag. Such a small detail, but it pricked at me in a way I couldn’t identify. Especially in this city, a human carrying a demon’s possessions stood out as unusual, an inversion of expectations.

  “I don’t suppose they said where they were going?”

  The boy shook his head and then stopped, the thoughtful head tilt reminding me of one of the pups at the estate.

  “Maybe she said something to the Doctor, or Mister Gerard. They talked a lot, and they all got off at Mainport.”

  Susan and Gerard, two more pieces on this increasingly complicated board. Susan I’d always thought reasonable. Gerard I knew less well, but Joy had seemed to respect him during our brief encounters.

  I raised an eyebrow, an uncharacteristic grin splitting my face. “I have a feeling I know where I’ll find the happy couple, too.” The boy began to blush a deep red. “I’ll take that as a yes that they went to The Elysium?”

  My amusement faded as I recalled Nalah’s condition when we’d left. Leonard was capable, but he wasn’t Susan. If the girl’s wounds festered… I pushed the thought away. One crisis at a time.

  The waiter shuffled his feet. “I-uh… I only ordered the carriage for them, that’s all.”

  I let out a short laugh at the defensiveness in the boys voice, using the sound to mask the discomfort trying to crawl beneath my skin. “I wasn’t suggesting that you had joined them!”

  The waiter’s eyes flew open in shock and he stared, open-mouthed at me. I looked the boy over carefully. His uniform was well-kept, but threadbare in places, his boots polished but worn at the heels. There was a determination in how he carried himself. Useful.

  “How much do they pay you here?”

  At this, the boy took a step back, body tensing. “I’m sorry, Sir. We aren’t allowed to liaise with the guests. Plus, I’m already taken.”

  I stared at him silently, slowly realising how my slow perusal had made my question sound. A burst of laughter rumbled from my chest.

  “Sir?” the boy said hesitantly, looking around for a polite escape route.

  I managed to get myself under control, at least to the point of occasional giggles. “Now, that’s not at all what I meant, but I appreciate that’s where your mind immediately went.” I wiped the tears from my eyes, as my chuckles subsided and I tried to give him a serious look. “I want to offer you a job. You’re a good kid, and it sounds like you kept an eye on Joy for me.”

  The waited rubbed the back of his neck, shooting a glance back to the closest bar where I now realised there were two other equally-young waiters watching the exchange with concerned expressions. One slender with blonde hair, the other broader, with similar features to the boy before me.

  “I’m kind of… committed… here, Sir.”

  Realising that they’d been spotted, the other two boys stood taller, openly peering out at the goings on.

  I arched an eyebrow, struggling to suppress a smile. “To them both? I’m impressed. Good for you, kid.”

  His attention returned to me, stuck somewhere between blushing to his boots and questioning whether it was worth diving off the side of the boat.

  “To the blonde one. The other is my brother.” He pointed as he spoke, and I lifted my hand to wave at the boys.

  “Bring them.” I linked my fingers over my chest and looked up at the boy, replacing the amusement on my face with earnestness. “I have room to employ you all, if that’s something you’re interested in. I guarantee I will pay more than you get here, and you can help us with the fighters.”

  I watched his eyes light up exactly as I’d expected. He looked back at the two other waiters, who stared curiously back.

  He cleared his throat again, trying to adopt a non-committal expression that failed to hide his interest. “I’ll talk to them, Sir, and see what they think. Thank you for your generous offer.”

  “I hope to see you stay on the island on the next trip back, but do discuss it with your family.” I gestured over his shoulder at the other boys, not missing his expression. Something told me those boys might be the only family he had.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Max, Sir.”

  “Well, Max-”

  “Where’s that water you promised?” Selwyn moved slowly to his seat, holding his tender stomach, his face still ashen.

  Max nodded, snapping to attention. “Yes, Sir. I’ll get that right now!” He glanced at me again, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you again, Sir.” He nodded and ran off back to the bar.

  Selwyn groaned, sinking into his chair. “He’s so noisy. What did I miss? You two had a long chat.”

  I picked up my drink, disappointed to find it considerably cooler than when I’d sat down. “Nothing to worry your head about.” I took a drink from the tepid liquid, wrinkling my nose at the flavour. I wouldn’t take Leonard’s coffee for granted again. “Focus on the problem at hand.”

  Selwyn rested his chin on his hands, looking at me through glazed eyes, the exhaustion evident. “Stop Joy.”

  “And get the girls home safe,” I finished.

  We looked out to the front of the ship, towards the open expanse of water. Somewhere out there, Joy was with this Admiral person. Not Marcelo, at least not yet.

  My thumb rolled my ring around my finger, the match to Joy’s collar. A connection, however tenuous.

  I wondered if she could feel me too, in some way. If the collar reminded her of me, as the ring constantly reminded me of her. Had she tried to take it off? Had she found a way to cut that connection between us? The thought made my chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with ownership.

  My feelings for Joy were a tangled mess, desire and frustration, possessiveness and respect, irritation and something deeper that I refused to name.

  “We’ll find her,” I said, as much to myself as to Selwyn.

  The mainland was still hours away. Hours to think about all the ways this could go wrong. Hours to imagine Joy falling into Marcelo’s hands.

  I closed my eyes against the thought, but it followed me into the darkness.