The Lost Prince (25 page)

He peeked over the edge of the deck and looked around. The tiny, flickering flame of her candle made her easy to spot. Waverly had not gone to the spyglass but to a staircase on the wall instead. Dean watched as she went all the way up to the open hatch in the dome.

What is she doing?

She climbed through the portal and went outside. Dean raced up the steps after her and slowed his pace as he neared the top. He tiptoed the rest of the way to the wall and looked outside. Waverly was standing on the ledge overlooking the water. Dean watched as she took off her robe, tied a weight around it, and threw it into the darkness. She wore a formfitting one-piece suit as she stepped up to the precipice and took a deep breath. Dean’s heart leapt into his throat. She was way too close to the edge.

Is she going to jump?

“Be careful!” Dean rushed out and grabbed her wrist before she fell.

Waverly screamed a bloodcurdling cry that felt like a knife in Dean’s ears. She almost lost her footing as she pulled herself free
of his grip. In trying to save her, Dean had almost scared Waverly to death. “You!” she said, after she realized who had grabbed her. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you! What are you doing here?”

“Jumping!” She backed away from the ledge in a hurry. “You nearly killed me!”

“No, I didn’t.” Dean was confused. “Nearly killed you? You just said you were going to jump!”

“Into the water!” Waverly clarified. “Where else would I go?” Dean said nothing. “It’s called cliff diving, we’re just not on a cliff. It takes concentration. You nearly knocked me off the roof. I would have fallen to my death.”

Waverly’s green eyes burned with anger. Dean felt like a fool.

“I see. In that case, I’m sorry. Carry on.”

“Carry on!” Waverly repeated, indignant. “Thank you very much, Your Grace. How lucky for me that you were here to save me!”

“I was only trying to help. I didn’t mean to—”

“How long have you been here? What are you doing up here?”

“Where? Up here?” Dean sputtered out words, stalling. “I … wanted to see the watchtower. Your father made it sound so intriguing, I couldn’t resist.”

“My father.” Waverly looked up at the stars. “What would he have said if I’d died doing this? It would have made him right all along.” She shook her head. “I would never have forgiven you.”

Dean scratched his head. “You’d have been dead. So there’d be no forgiveness to be had either way. But I am sorry, and I’m glad you’re just here for a little diversion, even if it is a touch”—Dean searched for the right word—“insane.”

Waverly gave Dean a playful look. “Says the boy who wrestles sea serpents and flies off waterfalls.”

“Heard about that, did you?”

“I did.”

Dean smiled. “I looked for you at the trial today. Where were you?”

Waverly’s anger was faded. “I’m here now. Care to join me? There are two ways off this tower. The safe way.” Waverly pointed back inside. “And the fun way.” She pointed out to sea.

Dean looked down at the ocean, nearly one hundred feet below. It dawned on him what Waverly was asking. “You’re joking. I’m not following you down there.”

Waverly looked disappointed. “Suit yourself.”

Before Dean could say another word, she turned and sprang off the roof with a light graceful step. He gasped as she executed a perfect swan dive, holding her form all the way down.
She’s mad. That’s all there is to it. She’s crazy.
Waverly sliced into the water with the tiniest hint of a splash. In the moonlight, he could see her waving him down. Dean took another look at the water.

“I must be crazy too.”

He backed up a few steps and ran full speed ahead toward the
ledge. He didn’t dive like Waverly. He just leapt out as far as he could, trying to clear the rocks the tower was built over. He was scared of the fall, but he jumped anyway.

When he hit the water, it hurt.

“Ow.”

“Not bad,” Waverly laughed as she swam for the shore. “No points for style, but high marks for bravery. Not bad at all.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Dean grunted. “I doubt your father would.”

Waverly stepped onto the beach and found the robe she had thrown down. “There are a lot of things my father doesn’t approve of. Too many, in fact.”

Dean got out of the water and looked up at the watchtower. “In this case, I might have to agree with him. I don’t understand. Surfing’s one thing, but why do this?”

“Why did you do it?”

Dean shrugged. “You dared me to.”

“That’s right. And you don’t show your stern to a challenge. Do you?”

“Not usually.”

“Neither do I. Was it fun?”

Dean struck a pose with his hand on his chin like a man deep in thought. “I’m not sure yet. I think so.” He thought a little more. “Yes. Yes, it was,” he added with a smile.

Waverly laughed. “Good. Enjoy it while you can. You’ll have to
give up this kind of fun when you’re king. Your life is too valuable. That’s what they’ll say. My father never lets me do anything for that exact reason.”

“That’s because you’re his daughter. It’s different with me. He’s perfectly happy to risk my life.”

Waverly’s smiled faded. “That isn’t fair. The trials are island tradition. It’s not his fault you’ve been thrown into them this way.”

Dean nodded. “Maybe not.” He still wasn’t sure about the regent, but even if he was trying to kill him, the man was still her father. She didn’t know what he was up to. She couldn’t have known, and she couldn’t be blamed for missing it, either. How could she see her father as a killer? Even Dean had a hard time seeing it. “I don’t mean to insult your father. I’m sorry if I offended you last night at dinner too, but I have to admit I don’t know what I said wrong. I thought the evening was going fine until you ran out.”

“It
was
going fine. I thought you understood me, but then you said—” Waverly turned away and shook her head.

“What did I say? Whatever I said, forget it. You might as well. I was only saying what I thought I was supposed to say. That’s all I ever say to anyone.”

Waverly squinted at Dean. “You don’t speak your mind?”

“No,” Dean laughed. “Hardly ever. I can’t do that. Not with you. I don’t know how to speak to a”—he was going to say
girl
but stopped himself—“to a lady.”

“Ugh,” Waverly scoffed. “Don’t say that. It’s not me.”

“Of course it is.”

“No. It isn’t. I don’t want a sheltered life at court with royal galas and fancy gowns. I want to go out there and see the world as you have. I’ve been stuck on this island all my life. Now that you’re here, it seems I always will be. Queens don’t get to have adventures, no matter how much they might wish for them.” She looked at Dean. “You know, I considered running away when you came back?”

Dean was taken aback at Waverly’s admission. “I had no idea.”

“It’s true. Did I manage to shock you this time?” Her eyes were welling up. She wiped them clean before any tears escaped. “You must think I’m ridiculous. Especially growing up the way you did.”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t think you’re ridiculous.”

“Yes, you do. You must. You think I’m a spoiled little rich girl.”

“No, I don’t. And you don’t have anything to worry about, Waverly.” Dean hesitated. “Between you and me, everyone here believes I’m the lost prince far more than I do.”

Now it was Waverly’s turn to be surprised. “You don’t believe it?”

Dean pursed his lips. “Let’s just say I’d be very surprised if my blood turned the palace water blue.”

“But last night you said—”

“What was expected of me.”

“Do you always do what people expect you to do?”

“I try to go my own way. It never works out.”

“At least you’re being honest.”

“That’s me. Honest to a fault.”

Waverly turned up her palms. “I suppose it’s of little consequence. It doesn’t matter what we believe. For better or worse, truth always comes out in the end.”

“I’m not usually around for that.”

Waverly gave Dean a puzzled look. He could tell she wanted to ask what he meant, but she didn’t. For his part, he wanted to tell her, but couldn’t. He could feel Waverly opening up to him, and he didn’t like lying to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. He could only trust her with part of it.

“I’ll tell you a secret if you like, Waverly. I don’t want to sit on a throne in the Aqualine Palace all my life either. I know what it’s like to be stuck somewhere, unable to leave. My life is out there on the waves. You and I both want the same thing—freedom to live life on our own terms.”

“If that’s the case, you should leave this place now, just in case you’re wrong. Royal life is a gilded cage. Kings have to stay with their kingdoms.”

“Not always,” Dean said, remembering One-Eyed Jack’s promise to come after him. “Believe me, there’s more than one kind of king.”

CHAPTER
25

T
he next morning, Dean got up early and went looking for a palace guard. “Excuse me. Can I trouble you for a favor?” he asked the first one he came across.

The guard snapped to attention. “Your Grace! Of course. Anything. Anything at all.”

Dean smiled. He had expected such an answer, but it was still nice to hear the words spoken out loud. “It’s nothing too important,” he told the man. “I’ve just decided not to use Jarret Ralian as my second in today’s trial. Someone should probably tell him.”

The guard was clearly taken aback, but he didn’t say so. It
wasn’t his place to question princes. “It shall be done at once, Your Grace. I’ll see to it personally.”

“Very good.” Dean waved his hand, already taking his leave. “Thank you.”

As he turned away, he enjoyed the guard’s stunned reaction. Dean wished he could be there to see Jarret Ralian’s expression when he heard the news. The little twerp was probably plotting to kill him right now. Dean wasn’t about to give him that chance. Not after the first two trials.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times … I’d have to be a bloody moron.

It was Dean’s final day on the island. The great storm was fast approaching. It was time for his last trial and last chance to find the orchard. If Dean’s crew came up dry this time, that was it. They had to cut their losses and run. At least, now that he knew when the next harvest shipped out, Dean had a backup plan. The plan wasn’t perfect, but it delivered the gold in a manner he could live with. It squared with his moral compass. The way Dean saw it, if Zenhala had gold to trade, it had gold to spare. He could live with One-Eyed Jack raiding their boats. The question was, would One-Eyed Jack let him? Dean much preferred to deliver the treasure by week’s end, as he’d been ordered to do. He still held out hope that the orchard could be found.

While Rook was roaming the island and searching for golden
trees, Dean and Ronan were deep in a cavern underneath the palace. Unfortunately, no large crowds accompanied the trial this time. Just a small retinue from the regent’s court. Waverly and her father were both present, as were Verrick and the trial judge. Arjent Ralian was there too, along with all three of his sons. Dean was surprised they dared to show their faces around him. He gave the Ralians credit for nerve, if nothing else.

The cave was dark and wet, lit only by lanterns that the small assembly from the palace carried with them. Seawater poured in from outside, ankle deep and still in some areas, waist high and thrashing in others. The trial judge stood on an outcropping of stone and presented Arjent Ralian. “Before we begin, I am told Lord Ralian wishes to make a statement.”

Ronan elbowed Dean. “Bet I know what this is about.”

“Yes,” Arjent began, giving Ronan a stern eye. “If it is not too late, I’m hoping your friend will come to his senses and employ Jarret’s services as his second. Though it has never been this island’s custom to accommodate the prince in such a manner, the sons of House Ralian have answered the call. My children have placed their lives on the line enduring their trials a second time, and serving the would-be prince admirably. Not that he shows any gratitude. Instead, he insults my son, declining his valiant offer to reenter the labyrinth on his behalf. He doesn’t even tell him to his face. He sends a palace guard to deliver his message!”
Lord Ralian looked upon Dean with contempt. “Despite all of that, even now, Jarret stands ready to face this challenge with you, Dean Seaborne. If you ask it of him.”

Dean fought the urge to applaud. In his view, a performance like that deserved nothing less than a standing ovation. Arjent Ralian had done a wonderful job of feigning outrage. His son Jarret was equally talented. All through his father’s speech, he stared at Dean, pretending not to know why he had been rebuffed. Dean recognized the act for what it was. The mask of a practiced liar, taking care to display the emotions that an honest person would feel. He knew that trick well, and saw something of himself in Jarret. The two boys were the same age exactly, but both of them were older than their years. Like Dean, Jarret’s handsome features were young and innocent, but he had the deep eyes of an old soul. Dean liked to think the similarities ended there.