Stomachs full, and perhaps a little drunk from the alcohol they had found in the ship's cargo hold, Nadia and Declan made it back to the Leyria, where they found Nolan and Rowena waiting for them, looking for all the world like they hadn't been aware at all of their disappearances.

Nadia thought that they at least should have brought Mark and Luke with them. If nothing else, they could have run off and warned the others of their kidnapping. Or, perhaps they would have been sold right along with them. Who knew?

She glanced at Declan, at her side. Part of her was almost resentful of him. Upset that he hadn't protected her, hadn't saved her, hadn't taken care of her. But why should she be? He had sworn no oaths to her, had made no promises, had vowed no vows. He was not her knight in shining armour, nor was he a prince on a noble steed come to save her. He was simply Declan.

An arrogant, irritating, metropolitan, prone to seasickness, pompous prince who had no ties to her nor she to him no matter what her blood that ran gold might say.

She gritted her teeth. He'd come with her to save her, or to watch over her, hadn't he? Yet that one thing, he had failed in. It made her miss her bodyguards, Ilyas and Jack. As silent as they were - or perhaps that silence was a boon - they had been good at what they did. Except when Declan's host had struck the city...

"The two of you look rather dishevelled," Nolan noted. "And you smell like rotting fruit."

Declan remained as unruffled as ever, his eyes still scanning the perimeter as though looking for signs of danger. "We were besieged by slavers looking to sell us for a quick infusion of gold. Someone must not have alerted him to my royal status and her magical one, because otherwise, I assure you that we would have fetched a far higher price at any slave market. Or, a king's ransom."

His words were amused, almost mocking, but she thought she tasted the fear beneath them. Fear of confinement, of captivity, of slavery. And who wouldn't be? Who wouldn't fear that loss of freedom, a state that she was all-too-used to?

"I'm glad you're back safe," Rowena said, running up to Nadia and flinging her arms around her before Nadia could react. She had never been one for physical contact, mostly due to her curse. This... this, felt like friendship. Foreign. Odd. Yet, not unwelcome. "Oh, you do smell like fruit. And wine. How did you get out?"

Nadia patted her on the back. "I'm going to take a bath. I'm sure the prince here can regale you with tales of our daring escape."

Truth be told, her hands hadn't stopped shaking, even after they'd stopped at the Vytian restaurant and Declan had sat across that table from her looking at her like she was a puzzle he wanted to take apart and piece together again. She wanted nothing more than to sink into a tub of hot bubbles and never resurface, at least not until her fingers and toes resembled prunes and her bones had lost the deep ache mixed with the cold bite of terror.

"Well, first, I had my knife on me..." she heard him say as she strode off.

She hoped he mentioned that she had kicked a man in the face, and she would have smiled to herself at the thought if the memory wasn't still vivid in her mind, in her body. The blow reverberating through her leg, the sound of his scream of pain. She had never fought anyone before. It was too dangerous, too risky; there were too many possibilities that she could hurt herself. Yet when her foot had connected with the man's nose and she'd smelled the iron tang of his blood, seen the gush of it over his swollen lips, something visceral had snapped into place inside of her.

Nadia wanted desperately to learn to fight now, especially if they would be ending up in dangerous situations like this one. The feeling of the ropes on her hands was still too raw, too vivid, for her not to want to wash it off of her skin. When she reached her cabin, she found a maid there drawing water and perfuming it with purplish petals.

"Thank you," she said, surprised, and reaching for some money to give her before remembering her purse had been stolen.

The girl shook her head. "The prince paid me handsomely to draw you a bath, Miss."

"Give him my..." Her what? Her thanks? Her appreciation? "Give him my regards."

The maid nodded and slinked out of the room with the pitcher. Nadia stripped off her dirty clothes, leaving them on the floor despite the fact that she'd been brought up to be neat and tidy in a temple where nothing could be out of order and sank into the bath.

Ah. Steam rose up around her face, the fragrant scent of flowers and the sweet aroma of honey mixed with almond oil perfumed the bathwater. She crushed a handful of lavender stems between her fingers, trying to let the water wash away the day. An hour later, she emerged from her bath smelling of flowers and honey and something sweet that was far from matching her mood.

No, her mood was foul. The bath had at least calmed her nerves, but far from soothing her tense muscles and aching joints from spending a good half-hour today tied up in a cargo hold. And, her toenail was bruised, dark blood welling under it, and painful to walk on from having kicked a man in the face. Next time, she ought to wear more sensible shoes.

Next time. Would there be a next time? She didn't want to be helpless and always guarded like some delicate flower, but neither did she want to constantly be in danger. Would there be any compromise, an in-between state? Somehow, she didn't think so.

Her hair damp, she pinned it up with a large tortoiseshell clip, donned a loose-fitting silk taupe gown and sandals, and exited her chambers.

Right as she shut the door behind her, she stumbled directly into a hard, muscular chest. She looked up, half-expecting to see Declan. Instead, it was Nolan. The frisson of disappointment that fluttered in her was hard to stomach. "Hello."

"Hi." He rubbed the nape of his neck. "How are you? Are you alright?"

She lifted a hand, brushing a stray strand behind her ear. His eyes followed the movement and she realized why: her wrists were reddened with rope burns. The thought brought up the memory of Declan cuffing her after she had tried to run away, and that memory, too, was painful in a different way. "Fine. Thanks for asking."

His face fell. She realized she was being rude and sighed. "I'm just a bit shaken up. I haven't really... ever been kidnapped before. Not unless one considers their city being destroyed and going off with its destructor to be kidnapping."

Nolan's grin was boyish, sheepish. She had always found him more palatable than his cousin, at least in terms of someone with whom she could be friends, or at least amiable acquaintances. "Declan told me everything. Sounds like you dealt those sailors a nice kick to the head."

She laughed, something like relief bursting inside of her, bathing her in warmth. So he had told them. "Yes, but at no small expense to my foot."

They both glanced down at the bruised toenail in question. She cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the attention. "So, what did you and Rowena do today?"

"Well, we had a far less eventful day, I'm afraid," he said. "We only went to the market and looked around for a bit, and had lunch."

"Did you buy anything?" she inquired.

He shrugged. "Not much, only a new belt. Mine was wearing thin... Oh, and a few charms and trinkets, for my mother and some cousins back home."

His tone was even. His eyes looked directly into hers. So why did she have the feeling he was lying?

Probably because you've been told far too many lies already, a voice whispered in her head. She brushed it away. "That sounds like a lovely day. Speaking of your day, where's Rowena?"

"Eating dinner, I was sent to fetch you," he said.

She was still full from her foray into Vytian cuisine, so she declined, instead opting to explore the ship further. Declan's warnings about the ship captain's dislike of her - though dislike might have been a weak word - echoed in her mind as she wandered through the halls, nooks, and crannies of the ship. Nadia found herself in the ship's library, hopeful that it was not a place the captain would venture as it was on the opposite side of the ship from his rooms.

"I didn't know you liked to read," came Declan's voice out of the depths, startling her.

Nadia forced herself not to jump as she perused a tome, relishing the feel of the hard leather cover against her fingertips. In the temple, she had read sparingly, with little time to do it, and always with gloves on for fear the pages might slice her skin open. Here, she decided to take up the practice.

She turned around to see him: freshly bathed, as she was, a few drops of water glistening on his unshaven face and collecting in the faint stubble on his jaw, with damp hair soaking the collar of his white shirt. "I was rarely allowed to in the temple. I thought I might try to have a go at it now."

"Well, an admirable pastime, for a girl who claimed she wanted adventure," he said, nearing her.

"I think we've both had enough adventure today," she said, snapping the book partially closed but holding it open with her finger. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"True," he mused. "A book can be an adventure, too, I suppose, though never the type I've been partial to, myself."

"Really?" she said. "And what do you prefer? Swashbuckling swordfights on the decks of pirate ships, as a prince effortlessly swoops in to save a damsel in distress?"

Declan gave her a once-over, and she was painfully aware of the way her dress clung to her meagre curves. His gaze seemed to burn her alive. "We already had that, didn't we? Though you were hardly a damsel. You held your own quite well, though your form could use some improvement if your foot is anything to go by."

She refused to curl her toes in and hide the injury from his sight, though before him, she felt exposed as though she hadn't bothered to get dressed. "And you're going to recommend yourself to teach me?"

"I admit I have many talents, but patience is not one of them," he said. "I don't possess the forbearance to take on such a task."

"I'm a quick learner," she said, feeling insulted by his words. Then again, why did she want him to teach her anyway? She didn't need him to train her. She could learn herself. She didn't need the thought of him correcting her form, rearranging her posture, his hands on her skin. "But I suppose you might not be a good teacher."

His eyes flashed in the light of the setting sun, shining through the small portholes, or perhaps it was with annoyance. "I'm an excellent teacher, I'll have you know."

"How many students have you had?" She folded her arms across her chest, the book hitting her collarbone.

"Two," he admitted, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "But they went on to become..."

"Vagrants?" she suggested.

"I would say you wound me, but really, you seem to have missed your target and injured yourself," he said, his gaze pointedly fixing on her bruised toe. She grimaced.

"Then where did my barb land?" she wondered aloud, half-tempted to flip open the book and continue reading even in his presence. Surely, it would rile him up to see her ignore him. And surely, some part of her was mad to want to rile him up.

"Lost at sea," he said. "It drifted through the window. Would you like me to train you or not?"

"I would rather see a wider selection of tutors," she said. "Perhaps Nolan could do it... He seems to be more of a play by the rules type."

Declan shook his head. "Your opponents won't be playing by the rules. Criminals play dirty, Nadia."

"So did you. Are you a criminal?" she asked, tilting her head back to look at him.

A smile flickered across Declan's face, just the ghost of amusement. "I am the worst of men, but I have never hidden it from you, priestess. Let me know if you want to accept my offer."

With that, he strode out of the library, leaving her flushed and confused and unable to concentrate on her book at all.