The next day Anara avoided the captain’s stateroom as if it contained a virulent disease. Oh, she was seen by Dante. She made certain of that. She practically paraded herself upon the decks to make sure he saw her—and continued to see her. If he saw her outside, then he would know she wasn’t spending time inside. Surely he would never know that she had peeped like a voyeur into his personal things.

After he went into his stateroom for an hour or so, Anara prayed that the captain hadn’t gone near that case of books. Hopefully he had only gone to his desk to scribble about with his papers.

After he came back out on deck, the Wind Steppe princess avoided direct contact with him as much as possible. Anara meant to avoid contact with him completely. Every time he got within a hundred paces of her, inspecting a piece of rigging, giving orders to his crew, or whatever else a captain did on one of these tubs, she made sure to find an excuse to move to another part of the ship while trying to look as if she were simply enjoying her time in this new world she had never before explored.

But finally, he cornered her at the forecastle. She had learned that was what the front was called. Or at least the raised part. She had been standing on deck. One moment he had been far off when she had been looking out to sea. And then when she turned to survey the deck, he was there, in front of her.

Her heart thumped her something awful and she swallowed.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched on his handsome face.

“I’m well,” she answered, perhaps too quickly. She needed to act normal.

“Are you quite certain?”

“Yes. And you? How are you feeling?”

He glanced at the water, then back to her. “I could not be better. I just learned something.”

She made sure not to lose her composure. “Oh?”

“Indeed,” he added, sounding intrigued and excited. “Iizuhlia. That’s the largest of the Wind Steppe khanates.”

“Yes. How did you learn this?”

“I’m something of an entomologist with words,” he said. “I was looking at some old maps of the Thithian Empire—a fascinating people.”

“To be sure. And what did you find?”

“The maps contain a territory titled Iizhulus, though quite small, I believe this territory remained largely intact before the Shattering and the creation of the Wind Steppe.”

He didn’t know, she thought. This talk of history, though intriguing for Anara, was fascinating to her in this moment. “But you know that the Wind Steppe tribes are not originally from the Wind Steppe.”

“Oh, I do know that,” he said, “but it didn’t stop your ancestors from adopting the names of the land to their own tribes, cementing their claim to the Wind Steppe. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

She smiled. “I believe you are correct, Captain. Few outsiders can guess at the origins of any of the tribes.”

“Not a guess,” he said. “An educated inference.”

“Quite so,” she agreed.

He breathed in deeply and walked past her to look out at the blue waters. “Thank you for cleaning up,” he said.

He heart lurched. “I made the mess. It was the least I could do. Thank you for the cabin.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else you need, Princess?”

She looked at him, and he was looking at her—straight into her eyes, like before. She shook her head, trying to seem as non-concerned as possible. “No. Nothing.” She glanced away.

“You adapt so quickly,” he said, his tone admiring. “I can only imagine what things have been like for you.”

“You will find that the tribes of the Wind Steppe live and survive by adapting every single day.”

“I have no doubt,” he said, smiling. He seemed to have a thought, nearly said something, but stopped himself.

Anara was about to speak, but they both spoke at the same time.

“Forgive me,” she said. “Please.”

He nodded appreciatively, finding whatever words he wanted to say to her. “Please feel free to avail yourself of anything on board the ship. My cabin is yours.”

She chuckled nervously, unable to help it. Dante was acting strangely. Did he know something? She swallowed. “Oh, thank you. But I would never intrude upon you.”

“You aren’t.” He seemed about to end the conversation and walk away, but he continued. “Please read any of my books, should you feel yourself getting bored.”

Her heart quickened as she took a step back.

“You have already. Have you not?”

“What?”

“You’ve read my journal,” he said plainly. “Or rather seen it.”

Her jaw nearly dropped.

“No I haven’t!”

He laughed. “Do not deny it, Princess.”

Anara flushed so furiously she could feel her breasts and neck heat right along with her face. She opened her mouth. She closed it. She opened it. She looked away, off to the waves. What she did was so unnatural it could only be described is aggressive disregard for his physical presence, but of course, that did nothing. He was still standing there, watching her.

She turned quickly in an attempt to leave the forecastle, but she was stopped when his hand clasped her wrist. “Where do you wish to go, Anara?” He had used her given name for the first time. “There is nowhere on this ship that you can go that I cannot follow.”

Anara was frozen in place. She must have looked like an animal caught in a trap. Her embarrassment was so strong, she felt dizzy, and yet her anger rose so fiercely, it surprised even herself.

Yanking her wrist from his embrace, she turned on her heel.

“How dare you,” she said through gritted teeth. “How—how dare you!”

“Be careful. You’re beginning to redden, little pomegranate.”

“Pomegranate?” She looked at him. “Pomegranate? So that’s what you were on about the other day when you were talking about sucking pomegranates!”

The palms of his hands showed as he shrugged innocently.

“To what notion did you think I was speaking?”

“I’m a little fool.”

“Surely not.”

“Like a soft hopper in an eagle’s nest,” she said, more to herself than to him. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

“Is what you?”

“The girl!”

He knew what she was talking about; the woman in the sketches. He was feigning stupidity!

“Of course she is.”

Anara stopped. She felt as though she had been hit in the stomach.

“Are you all right? Please, let me get you something.”

She brushed his hands away and gritted her teeth. “I’m not your pomegranate, you wicked, perverted, violet-eyed demon!”

She was taken aback at his reaction. What? He thought that was funny?

“How can you be so perverse?” she continued once he had recovered from his bemusement. “Have you no decency? No shame?”

“Perverse? Find me a man who does not have such thoughts about beautiful women.”

“They aren’t thoughts,” she said through clenched teeth. She tried to hit him, but he side-stepped the blow. She turned to face him again. “Those are drawings. Where you found the time to create them, I don’t know—I want them burned, you heathen.”

“Forget the drawings, Wind Steppe Princess.” He spoke plainly, his tone more serious now. “I want you.”

“You can’t have me,” she declared. She couldn’t believe his audacity. “You must be mad to think I have any desire to be a part of your debauchery.”

He looked away. They stood there in silence together. Anara almost turned to leave, but finally Dante regarded her once more.

“Debauchery?” he asked. “Are you not a woman? Can I not desire you as so, Anara? It would be unnatural for me not to want you this way.”

The Thithian statues came to her mind. She stared at him, but she said nothing. After a long time, he smiled. “Well, you shall be rid of me quite soon. You’ll be delighted to know. I’m sure.”

“What?”

He chuckled. “Surely you’ve noticed my crew is on the verge of a mutiny, have you not?” He gestured to the ship.

Mutiny? The day she had bathed in his stateroom came to mind, the way the ship’s boy had intruded—and how Dante’s first reaction was to grasp his sword hilt, the same sword he wore on his belt now.

He was telling the truth.

“What are you going to do with me?”

“You will stay one more night aboard the ship, he said, and then I’ll allow you to go free when we make port in Crenasa tomorrow evening. From there, you can find passage to anywhere you like. I will provide you with gold so that you may do so.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes. Why?” she asked, feeling confused. “If you believe your playing at mercy and generosity will buy you my adoration, you’re mistaken.”

“No,” he said, thoughtfully. “I have no delusions of such a thing coming to pass, though I wish it were so.”

“You would buy me?” she asked, incredulous.

“Were you for sale, absolutely,” he said, honestly. “I would take you any way I could.”

“You don’t even know who I am.”

“Know you?” he asked. “Must I know you? You’re a maiden. A princess of the Wind Steppe tribe Iizulia. Rroyal blood. If Royal can be used for barbarians such as yourself, and I know that I’ve wanted you since the moment my eyes came to you. The rest will come in time. Nobles in my land know less than that when they’re engaged. What’s to know, Princess? Does Duke Korr know you?”

Barbarian?

He had a point, and something inside her wanted more than anything to respond to those questions in a way that would please him, but Dante’s last question had Anara grinding her teeth.

Did he think he somehow deserved her? Simply because he was better than Duke Korr? Was he better than Duke Korr?

Anara stared up defiantly into those violet eyes. Dante’s lustfulness had shown itself. It hadn’t taken long.

Something was strange. She actually felt his intention and made to step away, but he was too fast in taking her in his arms.

She gasped, tried to push him away, but she could not, for his thick arms and muscles, she might as well have been a delicate bird in a grip of a prairie cat. When she realized that he wasn’t going to force her here on the deck, she relaxed her vane struggles against him. There was no point.

“What are you doing, Dante?”

“Why, I’m kissing you, Princess.”

And then he did kiss her.

She almost melted into his warm embrace, into his wonderful kiss as he held her there in his strong hands and powerful arms. But she would not fall to this man’s lustful needs.

Grunting in disgust, she squirmed and he released her. She didn’t think—she reacted, and brought her open palm against his face.

The captain didn’t react to her slapping him in the slightest. “Would that I could take you on this deck right now, Steppe Princess!”

She narrowed her eyes. How dare he touch her, force his mouth onto hers after what he did. She felt dizzy. Her ears throbbed and her gut trembled. She stepped back, surprised at her own coolness to his advances, neither snarling nor raising her voice through gnashing teeth.

“I told you, Dante. You cannot have me.”

Something in her gave Anara a fright. Not a sudden fear, but a prolonged consternation. She had felt it the first time she had seen him. There was a part of her that wanted Dante to take her here, just as he had declared he would should she let him.

The Wind Steppe princess turned and stalked away from him.