Page 83 of Crown of the Courtesan

My mouth drops open to curse at him.

What an⁠—

“Hush,” Valora interjects. “What matters is that if you don’t fix it, we’re going to have more than a few problems. We’re going to have an army that’s missing.”

I bite my lip, swallowing the disdain for a long moment. “I suppose we could be more doting to each other at dinner tonight,” I offer, wanting to be done with this conversation. I don’t need any more reminders of what happened last night than the one already standing right in front of me.

“No. It’s going to have to be much more convincing than that,” Valora demands with a bob of her head. “This is going to take two parts. First, we must assure them that Tabitha’s passions truly lie with the Witch-King, and Ashland, you must remind the commanders of their reasons for not surrendering.”

I sigh, knowing this convincing will ultimately fall to me. Acting isn’t one of Ashland’s strengths.

“What are you suggesting?” asks Ashland, finally turning around, his black armor catching a glint of the sunlight like a warning.

Valora nods toward the window and the bay beyond it. “Take her into a rowboat. This needs to look natural—an accident—when we find you. You’ll have to hurry. They’re heading out to inspect the new cannons any minute.”

“A rowboat? I don’t think I understand.” My voice sounds from behind them, but they don’t pay any attention to me.

“When we find you, you’d better have fewer clothes on than you do now, and it had best seem realistic. Do you hear me?” Valora admonishes.

I gasp, “Wait a minute!”

“Go! Now! The commanders are finishing their midday meal and leaving soon.”

Ashland lets out an annoyed grunt and grabs me by the wrist, yanking me down the corridor and away from the direction of the dining hall. I’m still trying to understand what is going on despite the pieces falling into place.

“Okay, okay,” I hiss. “Let me go. I’m not going to run away. Stop, you’re doing this all wrong. Someone might be watching.” I dig in my heels, and he’s forced to stop. I intertwine my fingers with his, our hands locking together. My palm immediately starts to itch and grow clammy. I desire nothing more than to pull away, but nothing can be done about it.

Ashland eyes me warily as we exit the castle and cross the grounds. Once we’re in view of the courtiers and guards, he drapes his arm around my shoulders as we stroll down to the bobbing rowboats moored at the empty shore.

Selecting one, he motions me toward it. “This one will do.”

My heart begins to race.

Whether it’s fake or not, I’m not sure how I feel about being so near him after he tackled me in the forest last night. After we⁠—

“Any day now.”

I sniff and raise my skirts, avoiding the tide. Ashland hoists me by the waist and tosses me into the boat. To avoid nearly falling over the side, I splay my arms out wide, and unfortunately, I don’t miss the smirk on his face as he climbs in next to me.

Ashland positions the oars, and we’re off, farther into the sea with each stroke of his long arms, his armor rustling slightly. The sun has dipped behind the relentless clouds, the afternoon taking on a slight gray hue—muted.

He stops.

We’re alone, surrounded by choppy water as the boat lolls back and forth, stealing the steadiness from my stomach. Naval ships dot the distance in one direction, and the castle appears miniature, raised on the hill in the other.

“Now what?”

Ashland clears his throat.

“Switch seats with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Fine, although I don’t see why where we sit matters.”

I awkwardly move across the rowboat and trade places with him, our torsos brushing in the tight space. Except he doesn’t sit. Instead, he picks up his rickety bench seat. “Lift your legs,” he orders.