Sullen, Gideon stared at his plate and crumbled a crust of bread into a puddle of olive oil.
“I told him...” I swallowed hard and picked at a loose string on my napkin. These words had been burning on my tongue since the moment I’d said goodbye to Gideon’s father in Steinerland. The only relief was to confess them. “I told him I loved you. And your sister. And that I promised to look after you both and take care of you as long as you’d let me.”
Gideon’s head jerked up. Heat smoldered in his gaze. “You told my father you loved me?”
My throat went dry. I bobbed my head.
His eyes sparked. “But you’ve never told me.”
“I haven’t loved many people, Gideon. And those I have loved were all taken away from me. Losing them hurt worse than any wound I’ve suffered.” I touched the raised pink line of scar tissue on my chest. “It scares me. I’d rather be shot through the heart again than to ever know the pain of losing you.”
A fierce intensity lit his face, and I almost couldn’t bear the raw emotions he revealed. He tossed coins onto the table, tugged me to my feet, and led me away from the café. At the first shadowy back alley we came to, he pulled me around the corner and drew us into the gloom of a deep doorway. His arms cinched around me, fingers tracing deep circles along the groove in my back. As he held me, his eyes blazed. “Say it, please. I need to hear it.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed. “I love you, Gideon. Maybe I have since the day you followed me into the forest outside Daeg’s castle.”
He pressed his cheek against mine, his breath coming fast and hot against my ear. “No, you hated me then.”
“Hate and love.” I half sniffled, half chuckled. “So very similar, sometimes.”
“You hate Jackie.”
“I refuse to waste that much energy on him. He’s a wasp that needs swatting. That’s all he is to me.”
Gideon cupped my jaw and stroked a thumb over my cheekbone. “Look at me, Evie.” I blinked until my eyes cleared, and his stormy gaze pierced mine. “I already watched you die once. I lived my worst fear and survived. Loving you is easy compared to that.”
My heart soared into my throat, throbbing like a white-hot star on the verge of exploding. I knew he loved me, knew it in every action and sacrifice he’d made on my behalf since the day he helped me escape from Inselgrau. But to hear the words in his deep, gravelly voice as his warmth burned against me... My throat was too swollen to speak, so I whispered, “I need to hear it too.”
He kissed me. So, so, sweetly. “I love you, Evie. Both the goddess who commands the storms and the woman who washes dishes and tames mechanical lions. Maybe I have since the day you found me bleeding and half-dead on the road to Thropshire and took me to the inn and cared for me, even when I was horrible to you.”
I laughed, remembering those early days and how terrible they were, and how his strength and steady presence had convinced me I could survive. “I deserved some of your anger—for being so careless.”
“It wasn’t anger as much as fear. You were so naïve.”
“But not anymore, am I?”
“No, and I sometimes regret it.”
“I don’t regret anything. If I hadn’t gone through the things I’ve been through, I wouldn’t deserve the crown or Inselgrau’s throne. What I’ve been through was the crucible that burned away those spoiled and childish weaknesses. It’s what I had to go through to be the person who could defeat Le Poing Fermé and be the queen Inselgrau deserves.” I glanced away as a blush rose into my cheeks. “It’s what I had to go through to be worthy of you.”
He grunted low in his throat, a sound of disagreement. “We could argue worthiness all day, but I can think of better things to save our breath for.” He plopped a kiss on the tip of my nose. “But not here. Not now.”
Pulling myself away from him, I inhaled several deep, calming breaths. “Right now, we’ve got more immediate issues to deal with. One in particular.”
Gideon’s brow furrowed. “Like what?”
“There was one item I left off Niffin’s list. I wanted us to see to it ourselves.”
“I saw your supply list. It seemed thorough.”
I took his hand and pulled him out to the street. “Yes, but how are we going to get to the island, without a—”
“Boat.” He clicked his tongue. “How did I miss that?”
“You can blame me for keeping you distracted, I guess.”
“Do you have something in mind?”
We tromped down the street, keeping our gazes trained on the canal, studying the numerous boats. Most were the narrow water taxis used to ferry people around the city, or the pleasure barges of the rich and elite. Neither would work for our purposes. “We need something strong enough to propel us through ocean currents.”
Tugging me to a stop, Gideon snapped his fingers. “I think I know the place we should look.” His expression turned serious. “How much money did Brahm give you?”
“A lot, but it’s not limitless. Brigette has been burning through it like kindling on a cold winter night.”
“Hmm...” He tapped a finger against his lip. “We might have to make this up as we go along.”
“Make up what?”
Gideon started off again, pulling me alongside him. “You’ll see soon enough.”
We stayed off the canal and threaded through the crowds on the streets. I lost my sense of direction in the city’s labyrinth, but eventually the tall buildings spread apart, replaced by lower, squatter structures that allowed for a view of the wide Isolas bay. Gideon’s route had spit us out several miles east of the hotel, in an area reserved for industry—boat making, primarily, it appeared.
Several wide warehouses crouched on the banks. Vessels in all states of construction and disrepair littered the yards and docks. A weathered old fishing boat, half rotten and riddled with holes, listed to one side in an open field between two buildings. A glistening new steam ship, something worthy of cruising the deepest oceans, floated at a dock as workers climbed about it like gnats swarming a carcass, hauling ropes and sails. A large, steam-puffing device with a long, tall arm and a system of pulleys and ropes loaded crates stamped with the word carbone onto the ship.
I pointed “Carbone? Is that—”
“Coal,” Gideon said. “Seems like only pleasure sloops and cutters or old retro-fitted ships still have sails anymore.”
“We don’t need anything very big or sophisticated.”
